One Path
by Lionchilde
Summary: COMPLETE. The story begins during TPM with an unexpected but welcome friendship. When friendship turns to something more, an entire galaxy will be changed, for better and for worse. Obidala.
1. Crossing Her Path

**An Introduction to One Path**

One Path is a co-creation between Lionchilde and Aruna7. We have the utmost respect for the work of George Lucas. We also respect the efforts made by the writers of the SW EU although we have different opinions as to the level of canonicity that the EU should be afforded. We understand that, while portions of the story may have been changed along the way, Mr. Lucas had a vision for the Star Wars Saga even before _A New Hope_ was ever introduced to the rest of the world. We also know that the characters of the Star Wars movies were meant to be in some ways reflective of literary and mythological archetypes. In writing One Path, it is our main hope to keep those characters true to Lucas' portrayal of them while exploring another possible avenue for the unfolding of events in the galaxy.

You will find many elements here with which you are familiar. This is still the story of good versus evil played out on a galactic scale. It is still the story of the love between a man and woman, a father and son, a brother and sister. It is still the story of heroism and betrayal, of faithfulness, sacrifice, and ultimately, of redemption. One Path is also the story of Obi Wan Kenobi and Padme Amidala who find a sort of happiness that they were never allowed in canon. It was conceived in our love for them, and our hope is to honor Lucas' vision of them as we take them down a path they never traveled. Welcome to One Path.

**Due to limitations on this site, I have had to move my full notes and disclaimer. A link to them can be found on my author page. Please take the time to read through the notes before PMing me about questions you may have. Thank you for understanding.**

**From now on I will not be trying to answer questions posted in anonymous reviews. I appreciate continued interest in my work, but I'm going to ask that if you have a question, log in to the site or send me an email. **

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**GUYS. THE AUTHORS NOTES CLEARLY SAY THAT SOURCE MATERIAL FOR ONE PATH IS A COMBINATION OF THE FILM SAGA, EARLY VERSIONS OF THE SCRIPTS, AND THE NOVELIZATIONS BY TERRY BROOKS, RA SALVATORE, and MATT STOVER. PLEASE STOP COMMENTING TO TELL ME I GOT SOME RANDOM MOVIE QUOTE WRONG. I PROBABLY CHOSE THE QUOTE FROM A DIFFERENT SOURCE BECAUSE I LIKED IT BETTER. **

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The story begins during TPM with an unexpected but welcome friendship. When that friendship turns to something more, the galaxy will be changed. For better and for worse.

There is some re-telling of canon events from the POV of the principle characters in One Path. The reference post includes a complete listing of all canon and EU materials that I have drawn on for the story. Also, due to site changes on , the story may now have messed up scene breaks. Sorry, but I have no plans to edit this at the current time.

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_"Shields are up!"_ Ric Olie announced with a shout. _"That little droid did it!"_

Obi Wan felt a surge of relief as the one remaining astromech rolled its way inside and the Naboo punched the thrusters. The queen's transport finally broke through the blockade, and he quickly and carefully brought his emotions under control. There was still an immediate and pressing need to get the transport further out of range of the Trade Federation's ships. Once they were far enough out, Olie began a complete check of the ship's systems, with the Padawan assisting from the copilot's seat.

Once their condition had been fully assessed and options weighed, Olie punched up a star chart, and Obi Wan leaned over it, giving it careful study. "Here, Master," he said with certainty. "Tatooine."

The Naboo, of course, objected, but in the end, Qui-Gon ordered Olie to set course for the desert world. A report was made to the Queen, and the blue-domed R2 unit given over to the ministrations of one of the queen's handmaidens, who was ordered to clean the fellow up.

_Padme_, the queen had called the girl. Dressed identically to the others, she should have drawn no more of Obi Wan's attention than the rest of them. Yet, he found himself studying her as Captain Panaka and his Master vied for Queen Amidala's approval or dismissal of the plan to set down on Tatooine. The handmaiden remained at her mistress's side, seeming to listen with keen interest to both sides.

"You must trust my judgment, Your Highness," Qui-Gon told her with quiet authority.

"Must I?" asked the queen thoughtfully, her gaze flickering over the faces of her handmaidens as she considered. She looked last at Padme, who suddenly recalled that the queen had given her an order. Nodding slightly, she moved to lead Artoo Detoo away, and Obi Wan caught himself following her with his eyes.

In the end, Amidala supported Qui-Gon's choice, and the spaceport of Mos Espa was identified as the most likely place to find what they needed. After deciding that they should land on the outskirts, Obi-Wan's Master sent him to uncouple the hyperdrive. He found the generator beyond repair and sighed quietly, realizing that he'd best find Qui-Gon before the elder Jedi left. He started back to the cockpit where he'd last seen his teacher, but felt himself pulled in the direction that the queen's handmaiden had gone.

He paused when he found her, frowning at the sight of Jar Jar Binks. He'd thrown the annoying Gungan in the droid storage hold and told him to stay put. Obviously, even those simple instructions were beyond the careless creature's powers of obedience. He cleared his throat, taking a step closer, and Jar Jar whirled around.

"What are you doing out here?" Obi Wan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ummmmmmmmmmmm…" the Gungan replied nervously.

Padme frowned and stood up. "He was helping me."

"I'm sorry for you then," Obi Wan said with a snort of laughter.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"I think the droid would be safer out of his reach," he remarked.

"Then I think I understand why you're still a Padawan," the handmaiden said coolly.

"Excuse me?" Obi Wan's eyebrows rose in surprise.

Before Padme could reply, Artoo gave a beep of agreement, and she smirked, glancing over her shoulder at the droid. "Artoo seems to agree," she told the Padawan.

"No accounting for taste," he shrugged.

Padme shook her head and turned back to the Gungan. "Come on, Jar Jar, let's finish…"

Artoo tooted a sharp protest at the mention of continued attention from the Gungan, and it was Obi Wan's turn to smirk. The girl shot him an annoyed look, to which he returned a grin. Then he walked casually over and knelt in front of the droid, picking up the cloth that Padme had dropped. He could feel her eyes on him and sensed her surprise, but kept his gaze studiously on the droid.

His mouth went dry when she knelt beside him and picked up a second cloth to help. He didn't know what else he'd expected, but her proximity made him feel suddenly flushed. He flicked a glance toward her, and she smiled tentatively.

"I'm Padme," she offered.

"Obi Wan," he replied, inclining his head. "Obi Wan Kenobi."

She nodded back, and they worked in companionable silence until Obi Wan felt the familiar presence of his Master and turned, hurrying to his feet. Qui-Gon's eyebrow rose slightly, but he asked only, "Obi Wan. Have you finished with the hyperdrive?"

"Yes, Master," the Padawan nodded. "I was on my way to find you when-"

"I asked him for help," Padme spoke up.

"I see," replied Qui-Gon. Glancing back toward the main cabin to indicate the hyperdrive, he asked, "What did you find?"

"The generator is gone. We will need a new one," reported Obi Wan.

"I thought as much," his Master said, slipping an arm around his shoulders. Qui-Gon led him out of earshot as he added, "We can't risk communication with Coruscant this far out on the edge of the galaxy. It might be intercepted and our position revealed. We'll have to get our own. Don't let anyone send a transmission while I'm gone. Be wary, Obi Wan. I sense a disturbance in the Force."

"I feel it, too, Master," the younger Jedi replied. "I will be careful."

"Good," Qui-Gon turned, striding back toward the others. "Jar Jar. Get ready. You're going with me. The droid as well."

Jar Jar stared at him in disbelief, but the Jedi walked off, unconcerned. The Gungan's expression transformed to one of horror, and he wailed miserably, throwing himself down in front of Obi-Wan.

"Obi-One, sire! Pleeeeeeeease, mesa no go!" he begged.

"Sorry, but Qui-Gon is right. This is a multinational spaceport, a trading center. You'll make him less obvious," Obi Wan told him. Jar Jar's face fell in resignation, and he sighed, getting up to plod back over toward Artoo. The droid beeped and clicked consolingly, and Obi Wan turned his gaze back to Padme as he added softly, "I hope."

She smiled in response, but suddenly excused herself and hurried off. Obi Wan's eyes widened, and he called after her, "Hey, where are you going?"

She halted and spun to face him again, "I-um-have to report to the queen."

Dressed in peasant's clothing, Padme raced along with Captain Panaka, who shouted for the disappearing figures of Qui-Gon Jinn, Jar Jar, and Artoo to wait. The group stopped moving and turned, allowing them to catch up. She carefully kept her expression neutral, allowing the captain to do the talking.

"Her Highness commands you to take her handmaiden with you. She wishes for Padme to observe the local-" Panaka began, but the Jedi cut him off.

"No more commands from Her Highness today, Captain," Qui-Gon said with a quick, dismissive shake of his head. "Mos Espa is not going to be a pleasant place for-"

"The queen is emphatic," Panaka insisted. "She wishes to know more about this planet."

Sensing that the Jedi was not going to be swayed, Padme took a step forward. "I've been trained in self defense. I speak a number of languages, and I'm not afraid."

"Don't make me go back and tell her you refuse," Panaka added with a weary sigh.

Qui-Gon studied her for a moment, his expression suddenly unsure. He seemed to consider, and then looked up at the captain with a sigh of his own.

"I don't have time to argue the matter, Captain. I still think this is a bad idea, but she may come," he decided with a nod. Looking back her, he added in a warning tone, "Stay close to me."

Padme had no objection to doing so, and although she wouldn't admit it, she felt more than a bit safer under the dark and watchful gaze of the Jedi Master. He moved with an air of alertness that was reassuring, but without any obvious concern or fear that might attract attention. As they moved through the spaceport of Mos Espa, she found herself listening with rapt attention to his description of Tatooine and its inhabitants. One phrase hung with her, resonating somewhere deep in the young ruler's mind.

…_Its few spaceports have become havens for those who do not wish to be found…_

"Like us," she remarked.

He gave a small nod of acknowledgement and continued on his way, leading them through the streets to a small salvage shop. She did her best to stay in the background, letting Qui-Gon handle the negotiations with the shop owner, a crass, flitting blue being that she thought she recognized as a Toydarian. Her sharp eyes took in everything though, and she frowned as he shouted toward the yard.

Her jaw tightened, and it was only with great effort that she kept her mouth firmly closed as a small boy raced wildly inside and skidded to a halt at the sight of them. He was obviously frightened, and he flinched as the abrasive insectoid raised a hand.

The shop owner fired a question at him then cut off his response half finished and directed him to watch the store. The boy made no objection, and the Toydarian turned his attention back to Qui-Gon. He ushered the Jedi out back, assuring him that he would be able to find all they needed. Qui-Gon followed, admonishing Jar Jar sharply not to touch anything. The Gungan set down the strange hunk of metal he was holding and stuck out his tongue at the Jedi's back, but as soon as Qui-Gon had disappeared, Jar Jar picked it up again.

Padme quickly noticed that the boy was staring at her and gave him a curious look. He climbed up on an open space on the counter and continued to study her, finally asking in a bemused tone, "Are you an angel?"

The wind was picking up speed. It ripped across the desert sands, whipping and cracking through Obi Wan's robes as the Padawan stared off toward Mos Espa. He knew that Qui-Gon would find shelter, but his thoughts returned again to the queen's handmaiden. There was no question in his mind that Padme was brave and spirited. Obi Wan had spent no real time with the rest of Amidala's entourage, but of them he was sure that Padme had to be the best choice for the assignment that Amidala had given her. Yet he couldn't help but question the queen's judgment.

Obviously, Amidala herself could not have gone, and he suspected that Padme was being used as a means of vicarious experience for the isolated ruler. He knew that it was none of his business; the girl was the queen's attendant, and except in the context of some gross injustice, the Jedi Order had no right to interfere with her mistress' treatment of those who served her.

Why did he feel so protective of this girl in any case? He barely knew her, and from what he had been able to discern from her surface thoughts and emotions, she was entirely happy to be sent on this ill-conceived errand. There were also other matters that should be occupying his thoughts at the moment, Obi Wan realized with an inward sigh as Captain Panaka came clanking down the ramp behind him.

"This storm's going to slow them down," he said, allowing more than a little worry into his tone.

"It looks pretty bad," agreed the captain. "We'd better seal up the ship before it gets any worse."

Obi Wan started to agree when a comlink on the captain's belt beeped, drawing both men's attention. Panaka unhooked it and asked, "Yes?"

"We're receiving a message from home," Ric Olie said.

Panaka glanced toward Obi Wan in concern and quickly replied, "We'll be right there."


	2. The Voice in the Storm

The room was hot, stifling, and it seemed to grow more so as Sio Bibble's garbled voice cracked over the comlink. Padme closed her eyes, her jaw tightening involuntarily as the recording of the transmission from home finished.

_"...cut off all our food supplies until you return...death toll rising, catastrophic...must bow to their wishes, Your Highness…Please, I beg of you, tell us what to do! If you can hear me, Your Highness, you must contact me…"_

She had woken to find Qui-Gon watching Anakin sleep. She joined him, wondering what it was that the Jedi seemed to find so compelling about the boy. He was sweet, and he had definitely inspired her compassion, but she suspected that the Jedi saw something in him that she did not. She didn't ask, though, realizing that she probably wouldn't receive an answer that made sense.

Finally, the two had walked back to the small kitchen table and sat down, talking in quiet voices. Mostly, Padme asked questions about Tatooine and the Outer Rim. For all her education, it seemed that she knew very little about this region of the galaxy. At the moment, Qui-Gon was her most reliable source of information. The conversation slowly turned to what might happen when they reached Coruscant. She wasn't quite sure why she nudged the topic in that direction, since she realized that she would have to be very careful in what she said, but Qui-Gon appeared to realize that she was deeply concerned over the plight of her planet, whether he understood her reasons or not.

The Jedi Master seemed slightly surprised when she asked him if there had been any word from Naboo, but commendably he did not pretend that he had no means of contacting the ship. Padme knew there must be some method, whether technological or by some Jedi skill. She had carefully watched Qui-Gon Jinn and knew that he was experienced and intelligent enough to make certain he would know if the Queen was in any unexpected danger. She pressed him further, hoping only for information, and finally he admitted that he had spoken to his pupil Obi Wan over a comlink. Still, he was rather surprised by her request to use it to speak to the queen.

She tensed, expecting an argument. She knew that if the Jedi said no, she had no means of requiring him to obey unless she revealed herself, but he acquiesced with an air of compassion that made her wonder if he had sensed her worry. Then he discreetly rose from the table and left to give her privacy.

Sabe was in her quarters at the time, and one of the handmaidens aboard the ship had apparently reported a short time before that she had asked not to be disturbed. Believing Sabe to be Queen Amidala, of course, Obi Wan had respected her request and routed the recording from the queen's quarters to the cockpit where he was on watch.

Padme was silent for several seconds after it finished playing, but finally forced herself to ask, "Was a reply sent?"

"No," the Padawan replied, his voice just a bit too certain to be convincing. "The message was a trick. I told the queen not to answer."

She smiled a little, well used to the necessity of having to sound positive of something despite her private doubts. "You were probably right," she allowed sadly.

"Are you all right, Padme?" he asked.

"What?" her eyes widened. She'd expected him to end the conversation with some polite excuse, or at least to try to reassure her that there was nothing to worry about.

"I don't need the Force to tell me that the message upset you," Obi Wan told her gently.

"There's nothing we can do, nothing to be gained by…"

"That doesn't have to mean it's…easy…does it?" he asked, his tone suddenly awkward.

"No," she smiled. "Thank you, Obi Wan."

"You're welcome. Good night," he said softly.

"Wait--" she began as she realized that he was about to end the transmission. Then she bit her lip. "Could I…call you tomorrow?"

He hesitated briefly, and she felt her chest begin to tighten. Then he answered, "You'd--have to ask my Master--but I'm sure he'd allow it."

"All right," she agreed. "Good night, Obi Wan."

-----

Obi Wan found himself waiting eagerly for Padme's call. He told himself that he was simply bored and eager for news, but when the comlink sounded that afternoon, he all but tore it off his belt. As soon as he answered though, he realized that it was Qui-Gon who had initiated the contact. Valiantly trying to curb his disappointment, he listened as his Master explained what was going on.

He was silent for a long moment, both considering the situation and hoping to keep his Master from detecting any hint of his emotional state. Part of him desperately wanted to ask for the elder Jedi's counsel, but he knew that his was not the appropriate time. Finally, he gathered his wits and courage to venture a question.

"What if this plan fails, Master? We could be stuck here for a long time," he pointed out.

"A ship without a power supply will not get us anywhere. We have no choice," Qui-Gon replied. Then he paused for a moment before adding, "Obi Wan, something is bothering you."

"Yes, Master," he admitted, letting out a breath of relief.

"I can't talk now. Remember what I told you. Something is amiss here. You must be very cautious. Guard your feelings, my young apprentice. We will talk more when I return to the ship," Qui-Gon promised.

"Yes, Master," Obi Wan said again. Qui-Gon clicked off the comlink and the Padawan slumped in his chair, covering his face with his hands. He massaged his eyes wearily with his fingertips and wondered how exactly this had happened to him. He needed to meditate, he decided. He needed to clear his mind of distraction--clear his thoughts of Padme Naberrie.

It was late the next night by the time she contacted the ship, and he had been unable to meditate. He tried to center himself and focus on the flow the Force, but his thoughts returned again and again to the queen's handmaiden. She couldn't have been much older than Amidala, and even if that was not a problem, he had chosen the way of the Jedi. Yet he couldn't deny that he'd been glad to hear a smile in her voice at the end of their conversation the night before.

When her call came, though, he blinked in surprise at the anger he both heard and sensed. Apparently, his Master had not wanted to give her the comlink. There had been a disagreement between them, and Qui-Gon's typically irreverent response to the authority of her queen had put her off. Tensions had been heightened later when the Jedi had brought the conversation up again, reminding her that "the queen did not need to know" before he would consent to let her contact the ship. She tore into Obi Wan now, furious with Qui-Gon for agreeing to gamble on a Podrace, for putting their fates in the hands of a nine year old boy that they hardly knew. He let her talk, knowing better than to argue back or try to appease her.

"I don't approve of what your Master's doing, and neither will the queen!" she declared.

"He gets that a lot, actually," Obi Wan remarked mildly.

"Well, maybe he should stop doing such reckless and irresponsible things!" she snapped.

"He gets that too," smiled Obi Wan.

"You Jedi!" Padme muttered, and he could almost see her shaking her head in disgust.

"We get that too," he told her, allowing a hint of mischief to color his tone.

She gasped in outrage. "Are you trying to be smart?"

"Yes," he nodded, grinning.

She paused for a moment, then both burst out laughing. Obi Wan leaned back in the chair, still smiling as their laughter faded, but he felt her suddenly withdraw and frowned. She murmured something he couldn't hear, and when she came back, her voice was low and apprehensive.

"I should go," she whispered.

"Why?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"Qui-Gon wants to know what's so funny. I--sort of told him that I was calling to report to the queen."

"You what?" Obi Wan's mouth popped open, and he stifled another laugh.

"Well, I couldn't say I wanted to talk to you," she said.

He rubbed his forehead. "Padme, even if Jedi wear robes they can't be mistaken for queens, I'm afraid."

"Huh…?" she asked in sudden confusion.

Obi Wan blinked, abruptly realizing how bad the joke had been. He felt his face redden and cleared his throat. "Uh--never mind."

"Right. Here comes Qui-Gon again, I've got to give the comlink back anyway," she told him.

"Oh. Right," he coughed. "Good night."

"Good night," she said as the transmission ended.

Obi Wan sighed, propping an elbow on the console in front of him. Leaning forward to cover his face with his hand, he let out a long breath. Of all the things in the galaxy for him to say, how had he managed to come up with something so ridiculous? He felt his cheeks grow warm all over again, and wished there was a convenient hole to crawl into.

Then he wondered at his own embarrassment. He slowly sat back, letting his eyes close. The attraction he'd felt to her when he'd first seen her was bad enough, but now he was making an idiot of himself.

A few minutes later, the comlink beeped again, and he picked it up, sure that Qui-Gon must have sensed Padme's deception. He felt a moment's trepidation, but his own confusion overpowered any fear of reprimand.

_I'm a Jedi,_ he told himself, shaking his head. _I can't be anything else…_

"Yes, Master?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm transmitting a blood sample. Run a midi-chlorian test on it," Qui-Gon instructed.

Holding back a disappointed sigh, Obi Wan did as the elder asked, then blinked in surprise at the results. "Master, there must be something wrong with the sample," he said.

"What do the readings say, Obi Wan?" Qui-Gon asked in a hushed tone.

"They say the midi-chlorian count is twenty thousand. No one has a count that high. Not even Master Yoda," Obi Wan reminded his teacher.

Qui-Gon said nothing for a long moment, then replied only, "Good night, Obi Wan."

The Padawan let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. What was it about this boy that demanded so much of his Master's attention now? He respected Qui-Gon greatly, but at times he felt his teacher _was_ what Padme had accused him of being--reckless, tending to be so caught in the immediate that it blinded him to the larger picture. At the moment, he knew that his feelings for Padme, either directly or because of his preoccupation with the implications they held for him, were affecting him in much the same way. He was not without his own experience in the ways of the Force, and Qui-Gon had trained him well, but he felt a growing need for the advice of another, older, more objective Jedi.

He replayed his introduction to Padme in his mind, mystified by his own behavior. He _had_ felt the Force draw him toward her instead of leading him back to the cockpit where his Master had been. Still, he had let himself become distracted. The fact that the hyperdrive generator had been so badly damaged was important; helping with the cleaning of an R2 unit was not. Yet, in the end, Qui-Gon had appeared, and had wanted to take Artoo with him into Mos Espa. In one way or another, the needs of the moment had been served by Obi Wan's actions. Could he have actually been where the Force required him to be despite his preoccupation with Padme? He wasn't sure. He did know, however, that the Jedi Order forbade attachment, especially of the nature he recognized that he was developing for this girl.

_I am a Jedi_, he told himself again. _I cannot be anything else._

-----

She lied to Qui-Gon again in the morning, telling him that the queen had asked for a final report. He fixed a long look on her, and she felt a quaver of uncertainty before he finally gave her the comlink. She had to wonder why it seemed so easy to deceive him. From what she knew of the Jedi, they relied heavily on their ability to sense emotions and discern truth from lies. However, she _had_ managed to conceal her identity both from him and his student, so perhaps the Jedi weren't as all-knowing as they appeared. At the moment, Qui-Gon seemed to notice nothing amiss, and Padme quickly forgot her concerns when she heard the weariness in Obi Wan's voice.

"Are you all right?" she frowned.

"Huh?" he yawned distractedly. "Oh--yes, I'm fine."

"You sound tired or something," she told him.

"Didn't sleep much," he explained dismissively.

"Me neither," she confessed.

"Really?" his tone brightened a bit. "I mean--um--"

"Obi Wan, I'm afraid for my people. If we don't get back to Naboo soon…"

"It'll be all right," he promised, suddenly becoming serious. "We'll get there."

"I'm not so sure," she said.

"The Force led us here; it will get us back to help your people," he assured her.

"I don't--know if I believe that. I don't _know_ the Force the way you Jedi seem to," she said.

"Then trust me," he replied.

"You?" she swallowed.

"I've spent my life learning the ways of the Force, Padme. Believe me when I tell you I've seen more impossible situations than this turn out as I needed them to," Obi Wan told her.

"Is…that why Qui-Gon's so confident?" she asked, frowning.

"Partially. He thinks there could be something special about this boy…Anakin?" he inquired.

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded. "You don't sound convinced."

"I haven't met him yet," Obi Wan said.

"Well, he's certainly precocious. And, you know, it's funny, but I think he has a crush on me," Padme confessed with a an embarrassed chuckle.

"I don't blame him," Obi Wan replied so quickly that she almost thought he meant it.

"Stop it, I'm serious! He told me he was going to marry me!" she laughed.

Obi Wan didn't reply for so long that Padme started to wonder if the com signal had died. When he did speak, his voice seemed suddenly strained and awkward. "Well, that's a rather strange thing for--a little boy to say."

"That's what _I_ thought," she agreed, wondering vaguely what his problem was. "It was so odd--almost eerie--oh, here comes Qui-Gon again, I've got to go. I'll talk to you when I get back to the ship…Your Highness."

"I'll be here," Obi Wan said with a laugh.


	3. The Road Home

Obi Wan strode down the ramp, his boots clanging loudly against the metal as he moved. He hurried toward Qui-Gon and Padme, conscious of his own racing heart. "I was getting worried," he said, keeping his eyes determinedly on his Master.

Qui-Gon dismounted without comment and started to help Padme off the back of the eopie. Restraining the urge to help her himself, Obi Wan drew in a centering breath and waited for the elder Jedi to speak. When he did, Qui-Gon's tone was brisk and businesslike.

"Start getting this hyperdrive generator installed," he instructed. "I'm going back. I have some unfinished business."

"Business?" Obi Wan repeated.

"I won't be long," Qui-Gon promised.

Obi Wan said nothing, regarding his teacher for a long moment. Had they been alone, he might have reminded Qui-Gon of his assurance that they would talk when he returned. With Padme's eyes on him, though, he could say nothing--only hope that she would be required to make a real report to the queen once they were inside.

Even the thought of that, though, made his stomach tighten. He had been worried--more about her than Qui-Gon--from the moment the storm hit. If he was honest, he knew he might even have been worried before that. The whole idea of the queen sending her into Mos Espa galled him. Sighing, he pushed these thoughts away, aware that Qui-Gon was now carefully watching him.

"Why do I sense we've picked up an other pitiful life form?" he asked.

Qui-Gon took his arm, leading him away from Padme and Jar Jar as he explained, "It's the boy who's responsible for getting us these parts. The boy whose blood sample you ran the midi-chlorian test on last night."

Obi Wan's jaw tightened. The boy again, of course. What did Qui-Gon think he was going to do with the boy? He was too old to be trained as a Jedi, no matter how high a midi-chlorian count he had. The Padawan said nothing, though, knowing that there was no dissuading Qui-Gon once his mind was set.

He turned away, and as Qui-Gon left again, Padme hurried over to him with a bright smile. She tilted her head teasingly. "You do get cranky when you haven't slept, don't you?"

"Only when I'm stuck in the desert," he groused, stalking off to do his Master's bidding.

She followed, throwing her arms around him from behind. Her chin came to rest briefly on his shoulder and she gave him a companionable squeeze. "What are you so grumpy about? We're leaving!"

His breath caught, and he realized all over again why he _needed_ to talk to Qui-Gon. He felt the tension ease from his frame even as she released him, and he mumbled a self conscious, "I'm sorry, Padme."

"You really have been worried, haven't you?" she asked, pulling him around.

"Yes," he nodded. "I have been. Mos Espa is a dangerous place."

"Things are all right now, Obi Wan," she pointed out with a concerned frown.

He allowed a slight smile of agreement, then gestured toward the generator. "Come on, we'd better help before Jar Jar makes a mess of things."

-----

Sabe and her handmaidens were waiting in her quarters. She'd told Obi Wan that she was going to give a _real_ report to the queen, and he accepted the statement a chuckle. She felt more than a little relieved to be back among the friends she knew and trusted, where there could be a respite from pretense.

The girls wanted to hear about her experiences in Mos Espa, so she talked mostly about the strange culture of the place and the societal rules which, she had discovered, were so very different from those to which they were accustomed. She grew hesitant when the story approached the second evening and her conversation with Obi Wan. It had been entirely innocent, but she wondered if the girls might read more into it than there had been. She didn't want to say anything which could reflect poorly on Obi Wan, whose conduct had been no less than gentlemanly--far more so than that of his Master, in fact.

Sabe realized that there was something she was hiding, though, and shot Padme several long looks as the queen talked. Finally, knowing that she wasn't going to deceive her friend, she dismissed the others and then stood with her back to the door, leaning lightly on it until they were sure they were alone.

"It's nothing, really," Padme assured the decoy.

"Nothing that you can talk about?" Sabe smiled knowingly.

Padme chuckled, glancing down as she shook her head. "No, really. Obi Wan and I talked a few times over his Master's comlink, that's all. I told Qui-Gon I was reporting to you."

Sabe's eyebrow rose. "Obi Wan?"

"The Padawan…?" Padme replied, frowning. In all the time that Sabe and the others had spent on the ship while she was gone, she was sure that they must have learned his name.

"I know who he is, Your Highness," Sabe nodded. "What I don't know is when you started calling him by name."

"Oh. Before I left, he helped me clean Artoo Detoo," explained Padme.

"He what?" Sabe blinked.

"He's really very nice," Padme smiled.

"I see," the decoy smirked.

Padme's eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise. "It wasn't like that! He was only being friendly. And the night when the message came in, I was upset. He was…"

"He was what?" Sabe prompted with the distinct air of someone trying not to laugh.

"Kind," Padme said, raising her chin defiantly.

"I haven't heard you say that a man was kind in a long time, Your Highness. In fact, I don't know that you've ever said it," Sabe observed.

"This one is," Padme said smoothly.

"Then why couldn't you say that to the others?" Sabe asked, still unconvinced.

"I just didn't want there to be any misunderstanding. Jedi are forbidden to have romantic relationships, and I thought it might cause trouble for him if someone assumed that there was more than friendship between us," explained Padme with a pointed look. Then her expression softened. "It's been a long time since I've had a friend besides you and the handmaidens, Sabe. I'd like to have this friendship a while longer."

"Then I suggest you go and talk to him, Your Highness, because once we reach Coruscant, you'll have to be Amidala again," Sabe advised.

-----

Obi Wan was helping Ric Olie install the hyper drive generator when he felt Padme approach. She hung back, radiating what seemed an uncharacteristic uncertainty as she waited for them to finish. He firmly kept his focus on the task at hand, hoping that the installation would be complete by the time that Qui-Gon returned.

He wasn't entirely sure what his Master would be doing in order to bring the slaveboy with them, so he wasn't particularly concerned when Qui-Gon hadn't appeared by the time they were finished. Both men turned, Olie noticing Padme for the first time. He nodded, and Obi Wan smiled warmly as she straightened her shoulders and stepped toward them.

"Queen Amidala wishes to thank you for extending such kindness to me while I was in Mos Espa," she told Obi Wan.

The Padawan replied with a formal bow, "Please tell Her Highness that thanks aren't necessary."

"I'd like to thank you too," she added.

Obi Wan felt a smile tug his lips, and he shook his head. "It's not necessary, Padme."

"Thank you anyway," she insisted.

"You're welcome then," Obi Wan chuckled.

Olie looked from one to the other, suddenly coming to the realization that he was probably intruding and excused himself, murmuring something about running a pre-flight check. They watched him go, and Padme turned back to Obi Wan with a speculative look.

"You think there's any caf aboard? Maybe we could talk a few minutes before Qui…" she paused, suddenly struck by the fact that they were still stealing brief moments of conversation while waiting for Qui-Gon to appear.

Both laughed, and Obi Wan shrugged slightly. "I'm not sure, but I don't usually drink caf anyway."

"Oh," she frowned. "Is that against the rules?"

"What rules?" he asked.

"The Jedi Code…?" she trailed off uncertainly.

"No. I just don't see much point in drinking something that doesn't taste good," he explained.

"It's an acquired taste. It grows on you," Padme replied.

"Well, what's the point of an acquired taste?" Obi Wan asked lightly.

Padme folded her arms in thought and lifted an eyebrow. "That's a very good question. So, what do you drink, then? Maybe we could find some of that."

"Jawa Juice when I can get it. I doubt we'll find any here, but know a place on Coruscant--" he broke off suddenly, turning toward the open entry ramp. "Something's wrong."

"What?" Padme asked.

"Don't know," Obi Wan replied, but he was already moving toward the ramp. Padme sprang after him, and they reached it just as the disheveled waif that had to be his Master's new project burst inside.

"Qui-Gon's in trouble!" he announced, breathless and sweating. "He says to take off now."

"Where is he?" demanded Obi Wan, but the boy's eyes shot toward Padme with real fear. Deciding that Qui-Gon probably didn't have time to wait for him to win the child's trust, he whirled about, racing off toward the cockpit.

Padme and the boy followed, crowding in behind him as Obi Wan moved toward the viewport. "Qui-Gon's in trouble," she repeated.

Olie shifted position to peer over Obi Wan's shoulder, saying, "I don't see anything--"

"Over there!" Obi Wan cut him off. "Get us into the air and over there! Now! Fly low!"

Olie was instantly in the pilot's chair, his hands moving over the controls to obey. Obi Wan forced himself to breathe normally as the ship took off, forced his mind away from fear and self-recrimination as they cut through the desert air toward Qui-Gon.

Part of his mind whispered that he should have known sooner, should have sensed danger directed at his Master. Perhaps he would have if he had not been so distracted. Now, though, he drew on the Force to clear his thoughts and focused his attention on the viewport.

"There," he pointed as Qui-Gon came into view. As the ship moved closer, they could see him locked in a fierce duel with a black robed figure wielding what could only be a lightsaber--a red lightsaber.

"Stand by," Olie said as he brought the ship around and started to drop the ramp.

Nothing was visible through the swirling sand, and Obi-Wan's eyes moved automatically to the view screens, scanning frantically for his teacher. Suddenly, Qui-Gon did appear, leaping onto the ramp, and Obi-Wan felt a moment's elation, but he knew the battle was not yet won. The monstrous attacker came after him, making a leap onto the ramp as they began to gain altitude.

The creature was off balance, though, and Qui-Gon moved toward him, taking up the fight again at the edge of the ramp. Obi Wan stood transfixed as weapons whirled, unsure that this was a battle his Master could win and yet somehow unable to move. "Qui-Gon," he pleaded, only half aware that he had spoken the name aloud.

He felt a strong, slender hand grip his arm and finally tore his gaze from the screen to meet Padme's dark eyes. Then he pulled away, hurrying toward the ramp.

The boy raced through the hall with him, both of them reaching Qui-Gon at the same time. They helped the Master to his feet and Anakin blurted, "Are you all right?"

Qui-Gon reassured him, but Obi Wan continued to frown. "What was it?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. But he was trained in the Jedi arts. My guess is he was after the queen," said Qui-Gon.

"Do you think he'll follow us?" asked the boy.

"We'll be safe enough once we're in hyperspace," Qui-Gon replied.. "But I have no doubt he knows our destination. If he found us once, he can find us again."

"What are we going to do about it?" the boy demanded.

Obi-Wan turned to face him, eyebrows rising. "We?"

-----

Padme didn't know what compelled her into the main chamber that night. She had heard Sio Bibble's message already over the comlink, but felt the need to see it for herself. She didn't know what she thought it would accomplish, if through seeing it with her own eyes she could determine whether or not it had been a trick or if it was simply her guilt that drove her.

As she viewed the flickering hologram and heard the plea again, she hung her head, almost overwhelmed by the hopelessness of the situation. She had been trained to lead and govern the people of Naboo; she had led them to this, and now unless she could convince the Senate to help, her home and millions of lives would be lost.

Footsteps sounded and she looked up with a sharp gasp as Obi Wan entered the room. He strode over to her, reaching for her arm. Even in the dim light of the console, she could see the concern etched on his youthful features.

"Are you all right?" he murmured.

She started to nod, but his gaze held hers, and she shook her head. Obi Wan hesitated for a moment, then drew her against his chest. She had resolved not to cry, but as his warmth and the strength of his arms enfolded her, she felt tears beginning to leak past her closed eyelids.

"What if the Senate won't help us?" she asked tremulously.

"I will," he promised.

She looked up in surprise. "You?"

"And I imagine so will Qui-Gon," he continued with a slight smile.

"The Jedi serve the Republic…" she trailed off in confusion.

He started to say something more, but frowned suddenly and pulled back. He turned, and Padme followed his gaze, eyes widening as she spotted Anakin. She moved quickly away from Obi Wan, hurrying toward where the boy crouched shivering.

She knelt beside him, talking softly to him for a few moments, and then picked up a blanket and wrapped it around him. In return he gave her a carved pendant, which he said would bring her good fortune. Padme couldn't help but smile. She promised that she wouldn't need a necklace to remember him, but the boy's eyes flicked uncertainly toward Obi Wan.

Padme felt her cheeks grow warm as she realized that Anakin had seen her crying in the Jedi's embrace. She smiled reassuringly and reached to turn his face back toward her. "Many things will change when we reach Coruscant, Ani. My caring for you will not be one of them."

"I know. And I won't stop caring for you, either. Only, I miss--" Anakin broke off, his eyes filling with tears again.

"You miss your mother," Padme finished knowingly. She gathered him in her arms and held him for a few moments, then carried him back to bed.

Obi Wan was still waiting when she returned, and she looked down with an embarrassed smile at the necklace that Anakin had given her. The Jedi smiled too, and stepped closer. "Put it on," he shrugged. "Perhaps it _will_ bring good fortune."

"I don't need it for that," she replied.

"Let me help you," Obi Wan offered, reaching to take the necklace from her hands. He walked around behind her, and Padme lifted back her hood to let him fasten it around her neck.

-----

Obi Wan slipped into the small room where his Master was meditating and waited for the door to close behind him. He stood for a moment, then stepped forward and sank down crosslegged across from his teacher, waiting patiently for Qui-Gon to acknowledge him.

Finally, the elder Jedi opened his eyes, but calmly held the silence. Obi Wan looked down, considering his words carefully. He had been wanting speak to Qui-Gon for days, yet now he felt unable to begin. Qui-Gon reached out, laying a warm hand on his arm.

He looked up again and took a breath, deciding that there was only one thing he could say. "I think I'm falling in love with Padme, Master."

Qui-Gon showed no reaction at first, then closed his eyes in thought. "You must be willing to let these feelings go, Obi Wan, if you are to be a Jedi Knight."

"I am willing," Obi Wan asserted, then his brow furrowed. "It's more difficult than I imagined it would be…"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Very difficult. But you will make the right choice, Obi Wan."

"Should I avoid her, Master?" Obi Wan asked, breathing a sigh of relief when the other immediately shook his head.

"No. You must face what you feel, not run from it," advised Qui-Gon.

"How can I do that without…?" Obi Wan trailed off.

"With careful self-discipline. Other Jedi have faced this challenge before you," Qui-Gon told him quietly. "It is never easy. Nor should it be. But if you avoid her, you will have given in to fear.

Obi Wan's lips flickered upward in a momentary smile. "If they succeeded, perhaps they knew things I don't."

"There are times one can succeed and fail at the same time," Qui-Gon murmured.


	4. Beyond the Veil

The weight of the queen's headdress seemed to have increased since she'd last worn it. Padme drew a breath, telling herself that it was her imagination. She was only anxious about the impending Senate meeting. Despite Obi Wan's promise that he and Qui-Gon would help, she knew that the backing of the Senate would be her only real hope of saving her people.

The responsibility of convincing them lay with Padme alone. No one could help her on the Senate floor. Yet she found herself wishing that Obi Wan would be there anyway. It was foolish even to let her thoughts drift in that direction, and she knew it. She couldn't tell the Jedi who she really was. It would make no sense for Queen Amidala to ask Qui-Gon's protege to accompany her.

"Your Highness, the guard says that someone is asking for Padme," Rabe said as she appeared in the doorway.

Padme's mouth went dry, and she swallowed convulsively, but she carefully kept her tone even as she nodded. "See who it is."

The handmaiden nodded and left. Padme moved toward the door, smoothing a hand down over her clothes. What exactly she would say she was unsure, but her apprehension was strangely mingled with relief. Even if she couldn't share a laugh with him, his presence would be reassuring, and she was grateful for it.

A short time later, she heard voices in the outer room. Padme straightened her shoulders, assuming the regal demeanor expected of Naboo's queen, and called out, "Who is it?"

"Anakin Skywalker to see Padme, Your Highness," came the reply.

Padme pressed her eyes closed for a moment, then drew another breath, opened them, and stepped into the room. Taking refuge behind the impassivity of Queen Amidala, she regarded Anakin silently and hid her disappointment.

The boy bowed formally to her, and Padme felt a smile almost form. She hoped that Qui-Gon would be allowed to train Ani; he had a kind heart and a potential that shouldn't be wasted simply by reason that he was too old to be considered a conventional candidate for Jedi training.

"I've sent Padme on an errand," she told him now.

"I'm going to the temple to start my training, I hope," Ani said candidly.

_The temple_, she thought, holding the silence for a while as a plan began to form. The guards, of course, would see it as an inconvenience, and Senator Palpatine might be put off, but Naboo owed this boy a real debt. It might not be expected, but it would be understandable, at least. There would be just enough time to reach the Senate if she hurried.

"I may not see her again…and…I just wanted to say goodbye," Ani ventured.

"We will tell her. We are sure her heart goes with you," she said.

"Thank you, Your Highness. I'm sorry to have disturbed you," he bowed again, starting out of the room.

"Anakin Skywalker," she called imperiously.

He paused, blinking in surprise. "Yes?"

"We will escort you," she announced.

------

Obi Wan felt both relieved and apprehensive as he and Qui-Gon left the Council Chamber. They had been ordered to remain with Queen Amidala in order to protect her if and when the Sith Lord re-emerged. They would accompany her for the rest of her stay on Coruscant, and possibly even be required to return with her to Naboo if their enemy had not revealed himself by the time the Senate had finished deliberating over whether to intervene in the dispute with the Trade Federation.

Briefly, he felt a flood of elation that even surpassed his joy when Qui-Gon had made it onto the ship during the duel. Even through his own happiness, though, he recognized anticipation, excitement at seeing her again--things that he worked so hard to keep out of his emotional make up. He knew the danger these feelings posed for him as a Jedi. He knew that such attachment often led to skewed perceptions and were harbingers of the Dark Side of the Force. His commitment to the way of the Jedi was complete; he understood that he could not allow these things to sway him. And yet…

"I had hoped to be able to free Ani's mother as well," Qui-Gon said suddenly.

Obi Wan paused, giving his Master a startled look. "The mother?"

"One of the most difficult things that I have ever had to do was to leave Shmi behind," Qui-Gon nodded.

Blinking in surprise, Obi Wan studied the older man for a long time. The corridor, which had seemed wide and airy a moment before, grew hot and stuffy as he considered the implications of his Master's words and weighed his own response. In the end, he only gave a slow nod of understanding.

"I decided that I could serve her best by seeing her son trained as a Jedi," Qui-Gon continued.

"Is that why you--?" Obi Wan broke off, shaking his head in apology.

"No. Trust me when I tell you, Obi Wan, the boy is the Chosen One," asserted Qui-Gon. "But what I said about his mother was true."

"I understand, Master," Obi Wan nodded as they neared the temple doors.

He felt her before they even stepped outside. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart began to pound so hard that he thought Qui-Gon must have heard it. He swallowed and forced himself to breathe normally, trying to keep his palms from sweating as he followed his Master through the doors.

His gaze was drawn immediately to Queen Amidala, who was coming up the steps beside Anakin Skywalker. They were surrounded by her cadre of handmaidens and being escorted by a group of distinctly unhappy guards. He frowned, forcing his eyes away to scan the group, and belatedly remembered to bow.

"Your Highness…?" Qui-Gon said as they straightened, lifting his voice subtly to make the greeting a question.

"We have come to escort Anakin to his new life here, Master Jedi," she explained, her hand drifting gracefully down to the boy's shoulder.

The voice pulled Obi Wan's eyes back to her face, and his frown deepened. Padme was not among the handmaidens, and yet he felt her--felt--the queen. He searched Amidala's dark eyes, barely registering the rest of the conversation. He knew those eyes…

"We appreciate that, Your Higness," Qui-Gon was saying, "But you should not have risked…"

"What I risk is my business, Qui-Gon Jinn," said Amidala flatly.

"There is still an assassin out there somewhere, Your Highness," Qui-Gon reminded her. "I could have come to get Anakin myself rather than expose you to danger unnecessarily."

"I deemed it necessary. Naboo owes this boy much. "Perhaps it is time that you trusted my judgment," the queen said calmly. Obi Wan hid a smirk.

"The Jedi Council has instructed Obi Wan and myself to continue in your service, " Qui-Gon said with a slight smile of acknowledgement as he reached to take Anakin's arm.

Obi Wan felt a wave of relief from the queen. Relief and…happiness? Centered on him…? He realized he was staring and quickly shifted his gaze. She and Anakin said their goodbyes, and Qui-Gon promised to join her as soon as the Council had made their decision. He hoped his Master would send him back with the queen's entourage now, but Qui-Gon didn't, and they turned to go.

Carefully keeping his disappointment in check, he followed Qui-Gon, but sensed a sudden spike of apprehension from her as her entourage started off again. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder and called with a smile, "I'll talk to you later…Your Highness."

------

Back in Palpatine's quarters, Padme stared out the window, lost in thought. The outcome of the senate meeting still stunned her, and the weight of her failure was beginning to set in. With the Senate now in the process of electing a new Chancellor, there would be nothing done for Naboo. She would have to go back alone.

_Not alone_, she amended with a wan smile.

Even if Obi Wan and his Master had been instructed to protect her, though, saving Naboo would be up to her unless the Senate granted them permission to act on behalf of the Republic. Jedi were keepers of the peace, not warriors for hire. She could ask no more of them than what their calling allowed.

At a sound behind her , she turned to face Jar Jar, carefully keeping her face expressionless.

"Mesa wonder sometimes why da Guds invent pain," he offered sympathetically.

"To motivate us, I imagine," she said.

"Yousa tinken yousa people ganna die?" he asked softly

"I don't know," Padme said.

"Gungans gonna get pasted, too, eh?"

"I hope not."

Jar Jar straightened, declaring with sudden and unexpected vehemence. "Gungans no die without a fight. Wesa warriors! Wesa gotta grand army! Dat why yousa no liken us metinks."

Padme was about to say more when Captain Panaka and Senator Palpatine rushed in, Panaka excitedly declaring that the Senator had been nominated to succeed Chancellor Vallorum. Padme's heart beat faster at the news, but she ruthlessly clamped off any premature hope. Nomination was not election. The Senator started to ramble and she quickly cut him off.

"Who else has been nominated?"

"Bail Antilles of Alderaan and Ainlee Teem of Malastare, Panaka answered.

"I feel confident...our "situation" will create a strong sympathy vote for us... I will be Chancellor, I promise you," said Palpatine.

"I fear by the time you have control of the bureaucrats, Senator, there will be nothing left of our cities, our people, our way of life…" Padme told him.

"I understand your concern, Your Majesty; unfortunately, the Federation has possession of our planet. The law is in their favor," he reminded her with a gentleness that struck the queen as manufactured.

"With the Senate in transition, there is nothing more I can do here...Senator, this is your arena. I feel I must return to mine. I have decided to go back to Naboo. My place is with my people," she declared.

"Go back!" Palpatine exclaimed. "But, Your Majesty, be realistic! You would be in danger. They will force you to sign the treaty."

"I will sign no treaty, Senator. My fate will be no different from that of our people," Padme promised darkly. "Captain!"

"Yes, Your Highness?" he replied, coming to attention.

"Ready my ship!" Padme told Panaka firmly.

"Please, Your Majesty, stay here where it's safe," Palpatine pleaded.

"No place is safe, if the Senate doesn't condemn this invasion. It is clear to me now that the Republic no longer functions as a democracy. If you win the election, Senator, I know you will do everything possible to stop the Federation. I pray you will find a way to restore sanity and compassion to the Republic," Padme finished, sweeping past him.

By the time that Captain Panaka returned to inform them that the ship was prepared, she had her plan firmly in place. Despite this, she knew that in all likelihood, she was leading everyone who returned with her to their deaths. Yet she also knew that she could not sit safely on Coruscant while the people that she had been elected to serve were slaughtered.

As she climbed into the shuttle with the others, she was glad that circumstances did not require her to talk to anyone. The procession started out, and she had to restrain herself from looking eagerly toward the landing platforms for a glimpse of Obi Wan. She knew, of course, that she could share nothing of her fears and doubts with him--at least not without couching them as belonging to "the queen" rather than herself. Still, that deception would allow her to interact with him without the stiff formality she had to adopt as Amidala, and what she really craved was a moment of conversation with her friend--even if all they talked about was Jawa Juice again.

Her thoughts turned to their meeting on the temple steps, and she frowned softly. Though she hadn't been able to acknowledge it, she had caught him searching the handmaidens' faces for her. That small unconscious gesture of concern had touched her far more than she would have expected. It told her that their unexpected friendship must mean as much to him as it had come to mean to her. Then she remembered the way his eyes had moved back to her face and remained there. Her stomach tightened, both with hope and apprehension.

Had he seen through the decoy when his Master had not? The comment he'd thrown over his shoulder as he walked away seemed to indicate that he had. He'd had only the most formal interraction with Amidala during their time on Naboo. Why would he say something so casual? Something so close to what Padme herself had said on the morning of the Bonta. Still, if Qui-Gon could be fooled by Sabe, why should his apprentice be able to recognize her?

She didn't know, but they were coming to a halt, and she drew a breath, telling herself that she had more important things to think about at the moment. A guard held open the door and she followed her handmaiden's out into the cool of the Coruscanti night. He wasn't with Qui-Gon on the platform, which struck her as slightly odd.

"Your Highness, it will be our pleasure to continue to serve and protect you," Qui-Gon said in greeting.

"I welcome your help. Senator Palpatine fears the Federation means to destroy me," she replied with a nod.

"I promise you, we will not allow that to happen," the Jedi Master assured as they swept up the ramp. Inside, her eyes met those of another protector, whose lips flickered upward briefly as he gave a formal bow.


	5. The Unspoken Truth

The queen called a meeting shortly after the ship entered hyperspace. Obi Wan had not spoken a word to his Master since his dismissal on the landing platform, but he dutifully took his place behind Qui-Gon. With only two handmaidens behind her, Captain Panaka on one side and Qui-Gon, himself, and Jar Jar in front of her, the Padawan had no trouble confirming what he had sensed on the temple steps.

_But is she the queen or the decoy?_ he wondered, his eyes never leaving Padme's face as Panaka and his Master tried to dissuade the queen from the course she'd chosen. It did not make sense to him that the ruler of Naboo herself would have accompanied Qui-Gon into Mos Espa, leaving a decoy aboard the ship. Yet the queen would not have had time to switch clothing in order to appear in the Senate after escorting the boy to the temple.

He supposed there was only one way to find out. She summoned Jar Jar, who was understandably shocked, and Panaka and Qui-Gon continued to try to convince her not to involve the Gungans. Obi Wan might have told them that they wouldn't succeed, but held his tongue and hid a smile. The queen's mind was made up, and nothing they had to say would alter her plan. He waited until the discussion had ended, but hung back when the others moved out of the room and went to prepare for the coming battle.

She eyed him silently, then raised an eyebrow in a delicately imperious question. Obi Wan took a step toward her throne and bowed. "I would very much like to speak with Padme, Your Highness. If you could spare her for a moment."

She considered for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "I will send her out to you."

"Or you could just take off the hat so I could talk to her," Obi Wan smirked.

Padme's cheeks reddened, but she gestured dismissal to her handmaidens, then lifted off her headdress as they filed obediently from the room. Her hair stuck up comically, but Obi Wan made a valiant effort not to laugh. She pushed herself to her feet and stepped down to him, smiling self consciously.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she said.

"It's all right. Your Highness…?" he asked, still not quite certain.

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

The errant brown locks of hair bobbled in the air as she did so, and he couldn't quite stifle a snicker. Her head shot up again, and she frowned. "What?"

"Your hair's sticking up," he laughed.

"Your hair always sticks up," she teased back.

"Very funny," Obi Wan scowled, but she reached to punch his shoulder playfully, and they both laughed.

Her smile faded as quickly as it appeared, though. Her eyes darkened with sadness, and he carefully resisted the urge to draw her into his arms as he saw tears begin to form. "Thank you for making me laugh," she said softly.

He nodded, suddenly unsure of what to say. There had been so many things he'd wanted to talk to her about earlier today. All of them seemed trivial and even petty in comparison to the responsibilities she was carrying. "Can I do anything to help right now?" he offered.

"You just did," she assured him. Then she bit her lip thoughtfully, giving him a speculative look. "You know, I--don't think I've ever had a friend like you, Obi Wan."

He felt his heart lurch at the statement, but nodded in response and forced a smile. "I hope we'll always be friends."

"I do too. But what about you? What's been happening? Something's wrong between you and Qui-Gon. I can tell."

"Are you a Jedi now?" he chuckled.

"I don't need to be," she shook her head. "You two hardly looked at each other."

"We had an argument. I'm afraid he's going to defy the Council over the boy," explained Obi Wan with a sigh.

"What do you mean, defy the Council?" she wanted to know.

"He failed their tests. Qui-Gon's determined to train him despite the fact that they all think he could be dangerous. He won't listen to them--he won't listen to me," Obi Wan grit his teeth.

"Ani's not dangerous! How could anyone say that!" she exclaimed.

"Look, it doesn't matter. I don't care about the boy," Obi Wan said quickly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe that's the _problem_."

"What?" Obi Wan blinked.

"Maybe you should care," she pronounced, spinning away.

His hand shot out to catch her sleeve, and he pulled her back around, entreating, "Padme. I didn't mean it that way."

She stared at him with eyes suddenly hard and icy. "He has a name you know. It's Anakin."

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "It's Qui-Gon I'm worried about. We may not always agree, but he is my Master. More than that, he's--the only father I've ever known."

"Then shouldn't _you_ trust his judgment? At least more than a group of people who've never met Ani before?" she pointed out.

"I do trust him. I just don't want to see him disgraced. Qui-Gon is a great man; he could be on the Council now if he would only obey the Code!" Obi Wan let out a breath in frustration.

"There are some things that are worth challenging the rules for," she said, though her face softened as she spoke.

"Maybe, but I don't know if Anakin Skywalker is one of them," he insisted.

"But that's just it. You don't _know_. You're making assumptions," she said.

"There _is_ anger in him, Padme, and for a Jedi, that is extremely dangerous…" he sighed, trailing off.

"Obi Wan, I don't pretend to understand the ways of the Force the way you do. I know you wouldn't say that if you didn't have reason to, but please don't make a judgment before you've taken the time to know Ani. He has a good heart," she asserted.

"I believe you. And I will get to know him," he promised.

------

There was some security in the fact that Obi Wan knew who she was. Whatever the outcome of the meeting with the Gungan leader, Boss Nass, Padme knew that the next few hours would be dangerous and most probably deadly for all her people. She was not afraid to die; she was afraid that in dying she would fail. Before they had left the ship, she and Obi Wan had talked further about her plan and what it might mean, the implications it held for both of them, and she believed he understood her fears. He was mandated to protect her, and she had no doubt that he would do that, but because he knew her, cared about what was most important to her, she was convinced that, one way or another, he would help her assure that the Naboo people were freed.

_There are some things worth challenging the rules over_, she thought again, her eyes drifting over to where he stood with his Master. As she glanced toward them, a hand slipped into hers, and she looked down to smile at Anakin.

"I have something to tell you, Ani," she began softly, kneeling to be on eye level with him. "The queen has had to make the most difficult decision of her life…"

------

Obi Wan stood silently beside his Master for some time. Jar Jar had disappeared below the lake, leaving them to wait and hope that he could manage to convince Boss Nass to see Padme. Meanwhile, the Padawan's mind turned to his recent discussion with Padme. All the things he'd said to her were absolutely true. Qui-Gon was like a father to him, and while he was hurt and angry that his mentor suddenly seemed to find him an inconvenience, a stumbling block in the quest to train Anakin, he also knew that he could not harbor those feelings. His chief concern was Qui-Gon himself, but he had let petty jealousy cloud his reason. It was no wonder that the elder Jedi had not listened to him.

"I've been thinking," Qui-Gon told him suddenly, pulling the Padawan's thoughts back into the present. "We are treading on dangerous ground. If the Queen intends to fight a war, we cannot become involved. Not even in her efforts to persuade the Gungans to join with the Naboo against the Federation, if that is what she intends by coming here. The Jedi have no authority to take sides."

"But we do have authority to protect the Queen," Obi Wan reminded him, having already made up his own mind in the matter.

"It is a fine line we walk, then," Qui-Gon said, turning to face his pupil with a smile that said he too, was aware of Padme's true identity. "More so you than I this time."

There was no censure in his Master's tone, nor even warning. Qui-Gon had only confidence in him, and Obi Wan smiled in return, grateful for the elder's compassion and understanding. "Master, I behaved badly on Coruscant, and I am embarrassed. I meant no disrespect to you. I do not wish to be difficult in regard to Anakin's training."

"Nor have you been. You have been honest with me. Honesty is never wrong. I did not lie when I told the Council you were ready. You are. I have taught you all I can. You are much wiser than I am, Obi Wan. I foresee you will be a great Jedi, my young Padawan. You will make me proud," Qui-Gon promised.

Obi Wan smiled again at the unexpected praised and clasped his Master's forearm in gratitude. They held each other's gaze for a moment, and the Padawan offered a bow, then turned and walked over to where Padme was kneeling with Anakin.

She looked up in surprise, smiled and got to her feet. Anakin gave her a nervous look, and Obi Wan took a breath. "Anakin, I…wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier. "

The boy's eyes grew wide, and he grinned. "Wow, really?"

"Yes," smiled Obi Wan, offering him a hand. "I'd like us to be friends."

------

The meeting with Boss Nass was not going well. The Gungans were openly hostile, believing that the Naboo had brought the battle droids down on Otha Gunga and that they considered themselves better than the Gungans. Sabe's attempt to request an alliance was falling on deaf ears, but as Boss Nass talked, Padme stepped forward.

"Your Honor," she said, aware of Obi Wan's eyes on her back. Artoo whistled a quiet "uh-oh," and Padme resisted a smile, remembering the droid's part in how a certain Jedi had recently won her trust with an unexpected show of humility.

"Whosa dis?" Boss Nass demanded.

"I am Queen Amidala," she replied, then pointed at Sabe. "This is my decoy. My protection. My loyal bodyguard.I am sorry for my deception, but under the circumstances it has become necessary to protect myself. Although we do not always agree, Your Honor, our two great societies have always lived in peace...until now. The Trade Federation has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. You are in hiding, my people are in camps. If we do not act quickly, all will be lost forever...I ask you to help us...no, I beg you to help us."

As she finished speaking, Padme gracefully sank to her knees, only barely aware of the gasps of shock from her handmaidens and Panaka through the pounding of her own heart. Everything depended on the Gungans. Everything hung on whether Boss Nass would accept her gesture for what it was--a sincere plea for help in saving their way of life.

"We are your humble servants. Our fate is in your hands," she added without turning her head. From the corner of her eye, she saw Obi Wan's cloak shift as he moved to follow her example. Anakin and Qui-Gon too, got down on one knee, and finally all of her people followed suit.

"Yousa no tinken yousa greater den da Gungans," Boss Nass decided. "Mesa liken dis. Mebbe wesa bein friends."


	6. The Price of Freedom

"They're back!" Anakin shouted, racing toward where Obi Wan stood beside Padme, discussing strategy with his Master, and the Gungan generals. The group turned to see Captain Pananka and the rest of his troops scramble out of speeders and move toward them.

He did not think the battle could be won. The majority of their people were in camps, and though some loyal guards and police had formed a resistance, the Trade Federation army was much more powerful than they had anticipated.

"I don't intend to win it, Captain. The battle is a diversion," Padme said determinedly. Obi Wan frowned, waiting for further explanation, and she went on. " We need the Gungans to draw the droid army away from Theed, so we can infiltrate the palace and capture the Neimoidian viceroy. The Trade Federation cannot function without its head. Neimoidians don't think for themselves. Without the viceroy to command them, they will cease to be a threat. "

Her eyes flicked toward Obi Wan, then both turned toward his Master, who was considering the plan with a thoughtful expression.

"What do you think, Master Jedi?" she pressed him.

"It is a well-conceived plan, although there is great risk Your Highness," Qui-Gon responded carefully. "Even with the droid army in the field, the viceroy will be well guarded. And many of the Gungans may be killed."

"Dey bombad guns no get through oursa shields! Wesa ready to do are-sa part!" Boss Nass declared fiercely.

"We could reduce the Gungan casualties by securing the main hangar and sending our pilots to knock out their orbiting control ship. Without the control ship to signal them, the droid army can't function at all," Padme suggested.

"But if the viceroy should escape, Your Highness, he will return with another droid army, and you'll be no better off than you are now," Obi Wan pointed out, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as he spoke.

She looked at him with a grim smile. "That is why we must not fail."

He returned the smile with a nod and let the conversation turn back to tactics and positioning. His instinct was to keep Padme out of the fighting altogether, but he forced himself not to voice the impulse, recognizing it for what it was--the fear of losing her, not the simple desire to protect Queen Amidala that was motivating everyone else and _should_ have been driving him as well. Padme saw participation in the battle as her duty, and he knew better than to try to prevent her from it. She would be as well protected as they could keep her, and with Sabe acting as decoy, she would not be a particular target.

A tug on his sleeve drew him out of his thoughts and he looked down as Anakin squeezed between himself and Padme. "What about me?" he asked hopefully.

"Stay close to Qui-Gon," Obi Wan instructed. "You'll be safe."

------

Padme's pulse raced as she lead the group toward the hangar. They moved through the square as quickly and stealthily as possible, moving smoothly into position. Obi Wan was directly behind her, and she could hear Qui-Gon and Anakin close by as well.

"As soon as we get inside, Ani, find someplace to hide and stay there," Qui-Gon told the boy.

"Sure," he responded.

"And stay there!" Obi Wan echoed sharply.

A smile touched Padme's lips as she signaled Panaka. He opened fire on the battle droids and Padme rushed toward the hangar. Obi Wan's hand shot out to catch her sleeve again, but his fingers slid down it as she moved, clasping her hand instead. She spun back questioningly.

"Padme--may the Force be with you," he said, releasing her.

------

"Get to your ships!" he heard Padme order sharply.

Pilots and R2-Units bolted for fighters while she, Obi Wan, Qui-Gon, and her handmaidens engaged the battle droids. The fighting was fast and intense, but the droids were no real match for the Jedi, and Panaka's forces soon swept in to join them. There was a hasty conference as the two groups came together, and Obi Wan stepped closer to her, quickly and quietly assuring himself that she was unharmed.

"My guess is the Viceroy's in the throne room," she said briskly.

"I agree," replied Qui-Gon

They started toward the exit when a familiar whistle sounded, and Anakin peeked up from inside the cockpit of an unused fighter. "Hey, wait for me!" he called.

"No, Ani, you stay right in that cockpit!" Qui-Gon ordered, already aware, as Obi Wan himself was, of the approach of the Dark presence of their Sith adversary. Yoda had been right about the enemy being drawn out in the open here, and the Padawan suspected that his Master had known when the Sith would appear for some time.

"But I…"

"Stay in that cockpit!" Obi Wan echoed his Master's command as he readied himself for the real battle to come.

The black-robed figure swept into the hangar, scattering the group. Padme, Panaka, and the troops backed off, allowing Obi Wan and his Master to come forward as the red blades of the Sith weapon flowed to life. He and Qui-Gon had fought together before, but never in a situation such as this, with an adversary whose skill with the weapon of the Jedi Order equaled, perhaps even surpassed Qui-Gon's.

He pushed fear and doubt from his consciousness, pushed out even thoughts of Padme, focusing, as his Master had taught him, on the present--on the Force, on anticipating each move their enemy made. He let Qui-Gon lead, but followed without hesitation, working with him to end the combat quickly, as was the Jedi way.

They pressed in, trying to drive him back, but it became apparent to him that, although they seemed to be succeeding, the Sith was subtly directing the combat. He leapt, whirled and somersaulted in a spectacular display, completely unafraid and full of a hatred that battered the young Jedi's senses. Blue and green blades flashing and crackling against the enemy's red, Obi Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn stood their ground, patiently waiting for an opening that seemed as though it would never present itself.

They moved through the hangar doors and into a power station, where they fought their way onto the catwalks that hung between the massive generators. Suddenly, the Sith Lord leapt upward, landing on the bridge above the Jedi. They followed, landing on either side to pin him between them, and another clash began. The enemy moved with stunning speed, and Obi Wan knew that his Master was tiring. He pressed on, determined to find a way to end the combat, but as he drove his saber downward in attempt to pin one end of their adversary's staff, the Sith caught him off guard with a kick so sudden and empowered by the Force that it knocked him entirely off the bridge. He sailed downward, struggling for breath, and landed hard, the momentum carrying him over the edge of one on which he landed.

He let out a grunt, barely managing to grab on with his fingers, and dangled there for several seconds. Above, the clang of boots and clash of light weapons told him that Qui-Gon was still in the game, but he hurriedly hoisted himself up and grabbed his lightsaber, craning his neck to pinpoint the combatants.

He saw Qui-Gon and their enemy above him and drew on the Force to leap onto their level. By the time he landed, they were racing through another door, and he gave chase, thumbing on his saber to engage the Sith again.

He moved through the door and into the corridor beyond, where he skidded to a halt barely in time to avoid striking the glowing red wall of a security force field. Similar ones segmented the entire corridor, cutting off Qui-Gon from their adversary but also permitting him no means of escape.

Obi Wan waited, watching as his Master sank to his knees. Qui-Gon began to meditate, and Obi Wan knew that he should do the same. His mind was full of anger and self-blame; helpless frustration. How could he have let himself be taken by surprise like that? Why had Qui-Gon not waited before pursuing their foe? Now the Sith was prowling just beyond their reach, waiting to pick off Qui-Gon in the elder Jedi's weakened state.

There was nothing he could do, though. Nothing but wait. So wait he did, until the force fields were about to shut down again, and then he charged through the corridor, desperate to reach Qui-Gon, who had already sprung to his feet and taken up the battle again. The force fields reactivated just as he reached the last point and he froze again, gritting his teeth as he stood watching the renewed struggle.

Qui-Gon's meditation had given him new energy, strengthened his connection with the Force, but Obi Wan could see that his Master was still weary, and his stomach tightened with dread as he began to understand that it would not be enough.

_Please_, he pleaded silently. _Please, Qui-Gon, hold on. Just a while more. I'm coming!_

Even as he thought the words, Qui-Gon's weapon came down on the hilt of their enemy's and the Sith shoved him back, pivoting to drive home a blade in a killing blow. Obi Wan let loose a cry of grief and rage, watching helplessly as Qui-Gon fell and the Sith Lord turned to him with a smugly satisfied smile.

_You're next_, it seemed to say, _And I'll enjoy it._

All restraint gone, Obi Wan barreled through as the force field opened, attacking with ferocity born of pain and grief. Fueled by anger, he matched the Sith blow for blow, leaping over one end of his double-bladed weapon to avoid having his legs cut out from under him, driving his adversary back, and finally severing the hilt of the staff. A kick sent his adversary sprawling, but the Sith recovered and kept hold of one half of his weapon. Lost in rage, Obi Wan attacked again, beating off every blow his enemy delivered to hammer home his own. Planning and calculation were lost on him. There was only fury and the intense desire to exact revenge. With all the strength of his anger behind it, he leveled an overhead strike, and his blade crashed downward to lock with the red one. He grit his teeth, trying to power the Sith backward, but his enemy raised his free hand, shoving him back with a powerful Force Push.

He found himself sailing backwards, clear off the platform on which he had been fighting, and barely managed to grab a metal rung underneath. He clung precariously, straining to keep himself from falling into the pit below, and lifted his chin to see the leering face of his enemy as the Sith disdainfully kicked Obi Wan's lightsaber off the ledge above.

His heart sank as he watched it plummet, realizing too late his mistake. He'd given in to anger-- done exactly what he'd tried to make Padme understand was so dangerous in Anakin Skywalker. _Padme_, he realized suddenly. Even if the Naboo succeeded in destroying the droid control satellites, there would be no one left to stop the Sith.

He felt a spike of fear, and above him the Sith Lord gave a predatory grin, swiping at the rim of the pit in an attempt to dislodge the Padawan's grip. Obi Wan's eyes fastened on the body of his Master, on the lightsaber beside it, and he heard again the words that Qui Gon had spoken on their last encounter with the Trade Federation.

_Don't center on your fears. Concentrate on the here and now._ He drew a breath and focused, reaching outward. _Be mindful of the living Force, my young Padawan. Be strong._

The lightsaber above began to move, and Obi Wan bowed his head, gathering the strength of the Force to propel himself upward, flipping to land before the Sith as Qui-Gon's blade smacked into his hand. His stunned opponent only had time to spin and face him. Obi Wan lashed out, sending the evil being pitching over the edge and into the melting pit below.

Then, he raced toward Qui-Gon, hurriedly kneeling to cradle the failing Jedi's head and shoulders. He could feel the other's life force fading and swallowed convulsively as he heard Qui-Gon echo what he already knew.

"It's--it's too late…"

"No!" he shook his head in vehement refusal.

"Obi Wan!" Qui-Gon called urgently, briefly stilling the sobs that the younger Jedi could already feel breaking from his chest. "Promise. Promise me you will train the boy."

"Yes, Master," Obi Wan nodded through the glisten of tears, heedless then of the implications of the promise or anything other than Qui-Gon's wish.

The elder reached up weakly to touch Obi Wan's face, continuing, "He…is the Chosen One. He…will bring balance. Train him…"

Obi Wan nodded again, sealing the promise, and Qui-Gon's eyes closed for the last time. Obi Wan reached to steady his Master's head with his other hand, lowering his forehead to touch the elder's and held him there, softly weeping, until long after the warmth of life had begun to seep away. Finally, though, reluctantly, Obi Wan Kenobi let his father go and climbed to his feet.


	7. Beginnings

The funeral pyre burned, and Obi Wan stood silently beside it. Dressed in the stately robes of her office, Padme watched through unshed tears as the smoke rose, consuming the Jedi Master who had been her protector and her cherished friend's teacher and partner. Like Obi Wan, she had not always seen eye to eye with Qui-Gon Jinn, but she had come to respect and trust him.

The drums beat on, and she stilled an irrational urge to silence them. For her, letting go was not a one time act, over and done with in a simple moment of decision. Letting go was a process of release and a continual action; it didn't lessen the pain she felt, nor did she believe it should. She had tried to voice these things to Obi Wan the day before, but he hadn't seemed to hear. Watching him now, though, she knew that, though the new Knight's mind might have understood that his Master was now "one with the Force," his heart would still require time and healing.

His eyes seemed almost haunted, and there was a new set to his features which, though it added an effect of maturity, saddened her with the loss of the bright humor and easy manner that she had come to rely on in him. She could only hope that his battle with the Sith Lord and the responsibilities of Knighthood would become part of the Obi Wan she knew rather than making him an unrecognizable and unreachable wall the way it appeared that many of his fellow Jedi could be.

At last the drum beat ended and the doves were released. Anakin, close to tears himself, turned toward Obi Wan and looked up questioningly at him. The Knight looked back, holding the silence for a breath, and Padme knew that he was struggling for his own voice.

"He is one with the Force now, Anakin. You must let go," Obi Wan said quietly.

"What will happen to me now?" the boy asked.

"I am your Master now. You will be a Jedi, I promise you," came the reply.

Anakin seemed to accept that news with a solemnity that stung Padme almost as deeply as the change she saw in Obi Wan. Becoming a Jedi was what he had most wanted; becoming a Jedi at the expense of Qui-Gon Jinn, to be trained by a man whose initial reception of him had been so blatantly unwelcoming and whose caring now was still often couched in a Jedi's detachment and sternness must have been a painful blow.

Abruptly, though, the air of detachment that Obi Wan had retreated into wavered. The service had ended, and those in attendance began to drift off, murmuring softly as conversations picked up. Yoda and Mace Windu still stood quietly to one side, talking amongst themselves, but Obi Wan either didn't notice or didn't care.

He started to lead Anakin off and froze, turning back to the now empty bier. Silently, he stared at the char and ash which had been his lifelong friend and mentor, and Padme felt the tears he didn't shed begin to run down her own cheeks. She quickly stepped forward, rested a hand on Ani's shoulder, and bent to whisper for him to go with Jar Jar back to the palace.

The boy nodded understanding and impulsively reached to clasp his new Master's hand before following the Gungan. Padme gestured dismissal to her handmaidens and the remaining guards, then slipped her arm gently around the Jedi. Obi Wan offered no reaction, waiting until even Windu and Yoda had paid their last respects and gone. Then, still without speaking, he lowered himself to the ground beside the cooling bier and hugged his knees to his chest.

With tears streaming her once perfect make up, Padme knelt beside him. She wrapped her arm around him again, wordlessly guiding his head onto her chest. He didn't resist, and rested there as the last of the sun's rays disappeared from the sky. For a long time, there was no sound or motion but their breathing and the soft rise and fall of her chest. Finally, she let her cheek come to rest against the top of his head, and although she couldn't see it, she knew that he finally allowed a few tears to fall.

------

He felt her there before she stepped into the doorway of the quarters that had been given to him and Anakin at the palace. His heart began to thud, but he didn't turn away from the railing of the balcony on which he stood staring out at the night sky. Padme stepped inside quietly, moving across the floor to join him with a soft step meant not to wake the boy.

She joined him, silently leaning on the balcony rail for a while. After a few minutes, she reached to cover his hand with hers. A bit sadly, he turned his wrist to lace his fingers through hers. He had long since realized that Padme did not share his romantic interest, but he had decided that it was better she didn't and was grateful for her friendship.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

"I'm not sure I can do it," he confessed. "I told Yoda that I would train Anakin whether the Council allowed it or not. I meant it--I gave Qui-Gon my word. But I don't know if I can train someone that Yoda himself wouldn't."

"You can only do your best, Obi Wan," she murmured encouragingly.

"I promised Yoda I would do that," he nodded.

"And what did he say?" she asked.

"That as long as I remembered that promise, it would be sufficient," he sighed.

"Then let it be," she told him.

"Padme, I'm afraid I'll fail him the way I failed Qui-Gon," he said.

She turned quickly to face him. "You didn't fail Qui-Gon!"

"I couldn't save him," Obi Wan said.

"No you couldn't," she shook her head. "But you did what you had to do. What he would have expected you to do."

"But is that enough?" he persisted.

"It has to be," she replied.

He closed his eyes in acquiescence, hearing his Master's words again. _There are times one can succeed and fail at the same time._

------

The banquet hall at the palace in Theed was alive with music and dancing. Earlier that day, there had been a grand parade in celebration of the newly won freedom of the people of Naboo. Now that celebration continued in a rich feast presided over by Queen Amidala. Having changed her hair and clothes, Padme stood somewhat apart from the festivities, looking on with an air of regal approval.

She smiled faintly as Anakin approached her. Then he bowed low, offering his arm. "Your Majesty, would you care to dance?" he asked with practiced formality.

She couldn't help but let her smile widen as she stepped forward and slid her arm through his. His Master, watching from across the room with a cluster of Jedi who had come for Qui-Gon's funeral, gave her a private smirk. The crowd on the dance floor parted for them, and she carefully took the boys hands to guide him through the steps.

She quickly discovered that, while Ani might have learned the proper manner of _requesting_ of a dance through observing the adults at the celebration, he had a lot to learn about the practice of dancing. His Jedi reflexes didn't seem to prevent him from stepping on her feet, and although Padme tried hard not to wince, his clumsiness embarrassed him.

"Here," she whispered, quickly picking him up and placing him atop her own feet for a few more turns around the floor. He grinned happily, letting her carry him through the steps. Then the music ended, and a few couples moved off the floor to be replaced by others as the strains of a slower and decidedly more romantic song began.

Padme cast a desperate look over the boy's shoulder, and finally, mercifully, Obi Wan excused himself to Yoda and made his way through the other couples toward them. He tapped Ani's shoulder, and with a somewhat disappointed look, the Padawan stepped away to allow his Master to continue the dance.

"Thank you for the rescue," she whispered as Obi Wan swept her gracefully off.

"Always," he promised, "Although someday I _would_ like to be rescued by you, Your Highness."

"Of course," she agreed, glad to see a genuine smile on his face again. And if he seemed a trifle warm as their cheeks touched, she thought only that the room was crowded. Still, though her people had peace, there was a faint uneasiness in Padme's heart. She closed her eyes, slipping her arms around Obi Wan's neck as they continued to spin across the dance floor, glad at least of this unexpected friendship and the familiar, constant strength of the Jedi's arms around her.


	8. An Unseen Hand

Palpatine sat back in his chair and templed his fingers. Pressing them softly to his lips, he considered the turn of events and nodded, a satisfied smile forming. The transmission that the little blue R2 unit had been allowed to send would be passed along to the Jedi Council. With a bit of nudging, Kenobi would be sent to rescue Amidala, leaving the Chancellor a convenient opportunity to cultivate the seeds of jealousy between Master and Padawan. Perhaps the Master would be killed along with Amidala, but even if he managed to escape the trap waiting for him, it would be of little consequence. Anakin would blame him for Padme's death, and Anakin was the Chancellor's primary concern for the time being…

----------

_Kidnapped_. The word echoed through Obi Wan's mind, filling him with a dull dread that settled in the pit of his stomach. The moment that Master Windu spoke the word, eight years of discipline crumbled. It had been all he could do to shield his emotions from the Council. Now, stepping from the chamber, he tried to banish his fear for Padme, but doubt and worry whispered despite his efforts. He had almost asked the Council to send another Jedi to rescue her, but to do that he would have had to explain himself. No one but Qui-Gon had ever known that he felt more than friendship for her, and he didn't think he could bring himself to reveal the truth before the entire Jedi Council.

Anakin pushed himself off the wall in the corridor and hurried over to him. "What's wrong?" he asked, frowning at the troubled look on his Master's face.

"Senator Amidala has been kidnapped," Obi Wan explained, immediately striding down the hall. "Artoo managed to get off a message. Her ship landed against her security officer's advice to investigate a distress signal that had been broadcast from a downed Naboo craft on Devaron. They were boarded--"

"Boarded? By who? How did they know about the decoy?" he wanted to know, tensing.

The Padawan's emotions became a tumult of fear and anger, and Obi Wan briefly closed his eyes. He knew that Anakin's attachment to Padme had not dissipated over the past eight years. If anything, the childish crush he'd developed on Tatooine had deepened, but the adolescent attraction would clearly be a problem on a mission like this, and Obi Wan's own feelings were far too close to the surface for him to buffer Anakin's as well.

"I don't know yet," he replied.

"What is the Council going to do?" Anakin asked.

"I've been sent to rescue her," Obi Wan explained as they reached a junction in the corridor.

"I'll go get ready and meet you on the landing platform," nodded Anakin briskly, turning away.

"Anakin, you are not coming," Obi Wan said firmly.

"What?" the boy spun to face him again.

"I don't have time to argue. Your feelings for Padme are too strong--you are too deeply attached," Obi Wan told him.

"Me?" Anakin cried. "What about you?"

"Padme and I are friends. That is all we've ever been," Obi Wan said truthfully.

Anakin gave a disbelieving snort. "Right."

Obi Wan's jaw clenched, but he made no reply, starting on his way down the hall again. It _was_ the truth, but perhaps only because that was all Padme wanted to be. He couldn't deny the happiness he felt each time he returned to Coruscant to find a letter or message from her, couldn't deny his gladness when Queen Jamillia had convinced her to make a bid to represent the Chommell sector in the Senate despite her initial intention to retire from public service. If he was honest, he would have to admit that his relief when she was elected had more to do with the fact that her position in the Senate would mean at least some time spent on Coruscant than with the empathy that he was _supposed_ to feel for his best friend.

Though the friendship they'd formed on Tatooine had never wavered, there had been little opportunity for time spent together during her tenure as Queen of Naboo. Obi Wan had not seen a way for that to change once she retired. Padme was too service oriented to sit idly in a villa, and even if she had, his own responsibilities rarely allowed for pleasure visits. They had exchanged letters and holomessages, and once unexpectedly run into each other on Alderaan. He and Anakin had returned from a diplomatic mission with Senator Organa the night before and been invited to spend a few days at the palace. He'd gotten to know Bail Organa fairly well by then, but was unaware of an association between him and Padme, and so had been entirely surprised when she and her retinue arrived the following afternoon. Beyond that brief encounter though, he had not _seen_ her since he left Naboo after Qui-Gon's funeral. He knew, of course, that she would still prefer to spend most of her time on Naboo, and he didn't bother trying to fool himself that work on Coruscant might change things between them, but he had been looking forward to actually seeing Padme nonetheless. He admitted as he reached his fighter that his reason for that was that he still had feelings for her--but those feelings hadn't prevented him from doing what was required on Naboo eight years ago. He didn't intend to let them get in the way now.

----------

Padme winced as her captors bound her hands tightly behind a seat in the cockpit of the cruiser. She did not cry out, but the black robed female gave her a hard smile and dragged a fingernail down the young senator's cheek.

"Don't worry," she said as the man behind Padme finished with her hands. "You won't be bound long."

Padme stiffened, but she made no reply. A chill went up her spine, though, as she realized that this was more than a simple kidnapping attempt. A Republic Senator would fetch a hefty ransom, but something in the woman's manner said that ransom, if it would be involved at all, was only an afterthought.

"What does that mean?" she demanded.

"Only that Kenobi is already on his way," the other replied with a negligent shrug.

The woman smiled again and moved her arm, allowing the silver hilt of a lightsaber to drop from her sleeve. She held it between her hands, considering it carefully before she looked back toward Padme. "That's right. Soon my Master's plan will be accomplished. Remember, Senator Amidala. No heroics when he arrives. We're still holding Typho and your handmaidens."

Padme grit her teeth against an angry retort. A momentary chill of fear swept through her, but she pushed it away. "Obi Wan won't just walk in here."

"Obi Wan?" the Sith raised an eyebrow. The evil smile took on a predatory gleam and she murmured thoughtfully. "Very interesting. In fact, I think it may be quite useful."

The woman swept from the room, leaving Padme with the guard, and the senator let out a breath. She wasn't sure what the comment implied, but it didn't bode well for her friend, and that worried her. She bit her lip, considering. Even if their friendship was public knowledge, there could have been no way to assure that it was Obi Wan who came for her--he _couldn't_ have been the reason for her capture. Still, if this kidnapping was truly meant to target her, why had there been no attempt to extract political information? Had she unwittingly given the Sith some weapon to employ against Obi Wan? This woman did not carry herself with the same air of silent self possession as she remembered in the Sith who had killed Qui-Gon Jinn, though she seemed to radiate much of the same cunning and barely controlled rage. She had spoken of a Master, which seemed to indicate that her training was not complete. Yet it had been as a Padawan learner that Obi Wan himself defeated the Sith that killed Qui-Gon. Padme knew better than to under estimate this adversary; if Obi Wan was coming, she decided, she was not about to let him walk into a trap.

----------

"It pains me to say it, Anakin," Palpatine said with a troubled expression, "but perhaps your Master has allowed his own emotions to cloud his judgment. Jealousy is unbecoming a Jedi Knight."

On the other side of the desk, the Padawan blinked. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's obvious that he feels more for Senator Amidala than he'd like you to think. Why else would he be trying to keep the two of you apart?" Palpatine asked.

"No," Anakin shook his head. "Obi Wan would…"

"Wouldn't he?" Palpatine asked gently.

"No, I don't believe it," Anakin insisted, shaking his head. Palpatine smiled though, sensing the boy's already turbulent emotions take on a new intensity. Whether he would admit now, the seed had been planted. With time and cultivation, it would come to fruit, as would many others.

"Your Master is lucky to have a pupil so devoted," he said now.

----------

Dropping lightly onto the rocky shelf of the mountain ledge, Obi Wan moved quickly into a crouch and studied the scene below. Padme's starship still waited in the valley below, guarded but otherwise unmoving.

_They should've taken off_, he thought, shaking his head. _They have what they wanted. Or do they?_

There was a dark presence inside; a presence too powerful to have been a bounty hunter or any of the typical perpetrators of a kidnapping. Whoever it was in there was waiting, and he had the distinct feeling that he knew what for.

He closed his eyes against the sudden clash of lightsabers in his mind, trying not to smell again the charred flesh and taste the sweat and fear of the duel that had killed his lifelong friend and mentor. His hand drifted unconsciously to his belt, where the cool metal hilt of Qui-Gon's lightsaber still rested.

_Don't center on your fears…_ he heard, his Master's voice still strong in his mind even after eight years. Taking a breath, Obi Wan brought his thoughts back to the present and nodded, straightening.

_Well_, he told himself as he shucked up his hood and stepped off the ledge, dropping down into the valley below._ Let's not keep our host waiting._

Getting past the two guards outside was a simple matter of a few tossed rocks and a mild telepathic suggestion. They were so busy arguing over who was hitting whom in the head with pebbles that they never saw the Jedi slip up the ramp and into the ship.

----------

Padme felt the hair on the back of her neck rise but didn't turn. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she struggled to keep her breathing even as his familiar voice came from the cockpit entrance behind her. "Hello, Senator Amidala."

The guard beside her whirled around, but even as his blaster rose, it flew from his hand to crash onto the floor beside Padme's chair. "Now that was very uncivilized of you," Obi Wan commented.

"Obi Wan, what are you _doing_?" she cried as the guard rushed him.

He sidestepped a punch, then ducked to avoid a high spin kick, calling back, "Rescuing you??"

She let her eyes close and shook her head in exasperation. "And I told her you wouldn't be foolish enough to just walk in."

"Yes, well--" he ducked again, then raised a hand to send the guard flying backward into a control console. "--the door was open, and I couldn't resist the invitation."

"Perhaps you should learn to exercise a bit of caution, Master Jedi," remarked the Sith as she appeared in the doorway. Padme heard the distinctive _snap-hiss_ of a lightsaber and drew a breath in fear, but Obi Wan sighed explosively.

"Couldn't you have tried something a bit more original?" he asked.

"It got you here, Master Kenobi," she replied, stepping back.

At a beckoning motion from her lightsaber, Obi Wan followed her into the hall, and Padme sighed again, glad she hadn't been depending on _him_ to untie her hands. As she continued to work them loose, she heard the clash of weapons begin and grit her teeth, trying to move faster.

A series of loud bangs and crashes told her that more was going on out there than a lightsaber battle. The lights in the cockpit flickered and dimmed, but finally stabilized as she pulled her arms free. Hurriedly grabbing the discarded blaster from the floor, she jogged into the hall, following the sounds of battle

Outside the main cabin, she halted, pressing her back to the wall, and then slid inside, crouching behind a fallen panel and attempting to get a clear shot. Obi Wan and his black-clad adversary were moving almost too quickly for her eyes to follow, their weapons a blur of clashing red and green amid a storm of flying debris, crackling electrical cable and a growing cloud of dust. Finally, Obi Wan pivoted to avoid a slash to his shoulder, and the Sith moved with him, bringing her back in line with Padme. She fired off two shots in quick succession, then ducked back behind cover. A shriek of outrage told her that, while at least one shot struck, it hadn't done enough to stop the Sith. The groan and squeal of twisting metal was her only warning before the grate leading into a vent shaft above her tore loose.

"Padme!" she heard the Jedi shout, just as an electronic sounding scream pealed through the room and Artoo Detoo shot out of the vent shaft. The grate halted inches from her and she scrambled out of the way in time to see the Sith bring her weapon around in a viscious slash down from Obi Wan's left shoulder to right hip. He crumbled as Artoo crashed into his opponent's back, knocking her off balance, and Padme rushed forward, firing as she moved.

Artoo was thrown off again, and Padme saw their enemy's hand stretch toward her fallen lightsaber. The weapon ignited and twitched toward her, but suddenly the hilt spun again, rose, and the blade sailed unerringly through the woman's side.

"Obi Wan…" Padme let out a breath, falling to her knees beside the Jedi.

His brow creased with the effort of focusing his gaze on her, and he offered a faint smile. "Thanks for the rescue."

Tears stung her eyes, but she gave an unwilling laugh. Lowering her forehead to his, she pressed her eyes closed and promised softly, "Always."

She started to move back, suddenly aware of footsteps racing through the ship toward them. With a sigh of relief, she realized that Typho and the handmaidens must finally have gotten loose and subdued the rest of the guards.

"In here, Captain!" she called urgently. "Quickly, Master Kenobi's been hurt."

"Wait," Obi Wan whispered as she started to climb to her feet. She turned back, a soft frown forming as she placed a hand on her cheek. "Something…I have to tell you…in case…"

"Don't talk like that," she said instantly. "We're going to get help."

"Padme…listen to me," he insisted, struggling for consciousness.

"What is it?" she asked gently.

"I didn't want to tell you--never meant--" he shook his head painfully.

"Tell me what, Obi Wan?" she asked, her hand moving to brush the sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead.

"I love you. Always have. Since Tatooine…" he said as his eyes closed and he slipped into unconsciousness.

----------

Anakin froze on the side of the street, suddenly doubling over. Palpatine, beside him, quickly moved to offer support. Affixing an expression of surprise and worry on his face, the Chancellor asked, "Anakin? What's wrong?"

"Something's happened to Obi Wan," the Padawan replied, straightening with some effort. His face was still tight and pinched with his mentor's suffering. "I can feel it."

"Is he…?" Palpatine let the question trail off.

"He's alive," Anakin shook his head. Then he closed his eyes in concentration and added, "Senator Amidala's with him. They're all right."

Palpatine accepted that news with no discernable reaction other than relief. Though he had allowed Darth Tyranus to conduct Merryn's training, he had already sensed her failure through the Force. He had hoped, however, that the Apprentice had managed at least to dispose of one of her targets. Still, the Dark Lord of the Sith knew that the situation was not a total loss for him--some good could be salvaged.

He was aware that Yoda and Mace Windu were still waiting for a second Sith to emerge. He would allow them to believe that Darth Maul had been the Master and Merryn the unknown Apprentice. This had been one of his purposes in putting aside Darth Bane's careful adherence to the tradition of passing the knowledge of the Sith to only one apprentice. By allowing Tyranus to conduct the training, he maintained a distance that could be useful in an event like this. His own existence remained unknown, and the Jedi could be led to believe that the threat of the Sith was over.

"Good," he nodded. "Come, we'll need to inform the Senate and the Jedi Council."

----------

She came to him in the temple a few days after they returned to Coruscant. Anakin brought her to his quarters and then quietly slipped out again. Both of them waited until they were sure that the Padawan's footsteps had retreated out of earshot, and then moved hesitantly into the center of the room. Padme's hands reached automatically for his, but she averted her gaze, keeping her eyes on the floor between them.

"Ani is still very upset," she said, retreating onto the safety of familiar ground. Obi Wan held back a sigh. He knew, of course, that Padme's feelings for him had not changed. Truthfully, he hadn't expected them to. While there was some hurt in knowing that she would never love him, he still believed it was for the best. What hurt him now was this new awkwardness between them. Far more than he ever might have hoped she would come to share his romantic attraction, he had hoped to be able to preserve their friendship.

"I know, he wishes he'd been there to protect you," he replied quietly.

Her head jerked up to give him a sharp look. "He wishes he'd been there to help you, too. He thinks if he had been, you might not have been hurt."

"I'll talk to him again," Obi Wan promised.

Padme nodded, biting her lip before she continued, "I'm leaving for Naboo. The vote ended yesterday afternoon. I didn't want to go without saying goodbye."

"Goodbye as in…?" he trailed off, letting the question hang half formed between them, though he knew the answer almost before it came out of his mouth.

"It's for the best, isn't it?" she asked, eyes filling up with tears.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I'm a Jedi--I would have nothing to offer you even if you did love me. I can't marry you. But I also know that I don't want to lose my best friend."

The tears began to spill down her cheeks, and her arms slid around his neck. "I don't either, Obi Wan," she confessed.

"Whatever you decide, I will respect your wishes," he promised, pressing his lips to her cheek. "And I will be here."


	9. The Pull of the Force

-1**The Pull of the Force**

The blast hit just as Corde reached the bottom of the ramp. Beside Typho, Padme raced back toward the ship, pulling off her helmet as she knelt in the wreckage. Her throat tightned as she reached toward the woman on the ground, barely managing to speak her name.

"Corde…"

The decoy struggled to look at her, forcing her lips to form words. "I'm so sorry, m'lady. I'm…not sure…I've failed you, Senator."

"No," Padme said softly, gathering her friend and companion into her arms.

"M'lady, you're still in danger here," Typho said urgently.

"I shouldn't have come back," Padme said bitterly as she stood. It seemed that every visit to Coruscant occasioned the loss of those closest to her. Two years ago, it had been a kidnapping attempt that had very nearly cost Obi Wan Kenobi his life and indirectly led to the end of their friendship. Although Padme herself suspected Count Dooku, they had never discovered who was behind that plot, and now Corde _had_ given her life to keep her safe.

"This vote is very important," Typho reminded her. "You did your duty. Corde did hers. Now, come."

The words seemed dull and pointless to her ears. Padme stood unmoving, her tear-filled eyes traveling slowly over the devastation, over the faces in the crowd of onlookers, instinctively searching for the face that she knew she wouldn't see.

"Senator Amidala, please!" Typho insisted.

Nodding, Padme let him escort her off the landing pad, painfully aware that she was leaving her friend's body in a heap of rubble as she went.

Once they had gotten back to her apartment to allow her to change for the Senate, Typho discreetly sent word to Jar Jar letting him know that she had survived. He was scrupulously careful that no one else was aware that it had been a decoy who died in the explosion. Yet as they reached the turbolift, the door slid open and Padme felt her breath catch as Obi Wan's eyes met hers.

Without stopping to think, Padme sprang forward, winding her arms tightly around the Jedi's neck. He returned the embrace just as hard, and she pressed her face into his broad shoulder to stifle the return of tears.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his hand moving soothingly over her back.

She nodded against his robe, drawing a shaky breath. His familiar, faintly spicy scent gave the same comfort as it had that long ago night on Tatooine, and she squeezed him still tighter for a moment, then abruptly realized where and when they were. Quickly stepping back, she turned calmly to the security escort and smiled faintly.

"It's all right, gentlemen. The Master Jedi and I are old friends."

"I apologize for not having been there to meet you on the landing pads, m'lady," Obi Wan said with a nod. "My Padawan and I had only recently returned from a border dispute on Anison and were reporting to the Jedi Council when the report came in that you had been assassinated."

"It's quite all right, Master Kenobi," she replied around a sudden tightness in her throat. It stung her how easily he shifted into the formality of a Jedi addressing a member of the Senate. She wondered if he in fact _would_ have been there to meet her. When they had last seen each other, she had told him that she thought it best if they no longer saw one another. He had respected her decision as he promised. When she returned to Naboo, there was no holomessage waiting. No letter came the following week. She knew then that it would be up to her to initiate contact, and she hadn't. His Jedi Code would dictate that he let go of the feelings he professed for her, so she had trusted him to do so. She had hoped he would also not harbor the hurt and resentment another man might; hurting Obi Wan was the farthest thing from what she wanted.

"If you'll excuse us, Master Jedi," Typho spoke up, "Senator Amidala is on her way to address the Senate."

Padme's brow furrowed in annoyance, but before she could speak, Obi Wan inclined his head. "Of course. "

Typho shifted to hold the lift for her, but Padme's eyes followed the Jedi as he stepped further into the hall to let them through. Once he would have turned back to her, offering the subtle encouragement that he had on the temple steps while she was still Queen of Naboo.

_I'll talk to you later…_

He didn't now, and she realized that her security detail was going to notice her preoccupation. Moving onto the lift, she reminded herself that he was only doing what she had asked. She had been the one who wanted to sever ties. True, she had done so believing that to continue to ask for his friendship would be selfish on her part, but how could she ask him for reassurance now?

Tears misted her eyes again as the doors slid closed. She drew a breath and tried to force her mind away from her own problems. If the Military Creation Act was passed, Obi Wan would be the least of her concerns--but his confession came back to her again, as haunting as it had been every time she'd heard it for the past two years.

_I love you. Always have. Since Tatooine._

Could he really have let that love go? Did she want him to?

"I'll--" Obi Wan spun around as the doors slid to a close. He hung his head, pressing the tips of his fingers to his brow. Then he looked up again and took a slow step. His hand drifted outward of its own volition and he let out a soft sigh of regret. "I'll talk to you later, m'lady."

He let his fingers drop downward to touch the call button and stood waiting. Anakin would be wondering where he'd gone by now, but the Jedi Master knew that the time had come for him to seek another's advice. The Council session had been wrapping up when he left, but he thought he knew where he could find Yoda at this time of day.

The lift returned and he stepped onto it, leaning an elbow on the wall. Long ago, Qui-Gon had assured him that he would make the right choice when the time came. Now, though, Obi Wan wasn't sure he understood what the "right" choice was. The Force had set him on the path of the Jedi. The Force had led him and Qui-Gon to Tatooine. It had been there that they had met Anakin, whom Obi Wan, like his Master before him, had come to believe was the Chosen One. Yet the Force had drawn him to Padme, unmistakably, and though he had spent the better part of ten years trying to put aside his feelings for her, she was always present for him. A day never passed when he didn't find something that turned his thoughts to her. Sometimes it was quietly unobtrusive: Anakin's antics or some strange occurrence on a mission that would make him think, "Padme would say…" Other times, it was demanding, more a need than a whimsical wish: some problem or frustration that he could never voice to anyone else, which he knew instinctively that she would be the one to understand. Then there were the moments that became unbearable: the scent of her perfume in a crowd, the sound of her voice even through the vast expanse of space between them, the softness of her skin his dreams.

Outside, the turbolift opened, and he forcibly pushed those thoughts aside. This was the crux of the problem. He drew a long breath and held it as his feet turned toward the temple. Slowly, methodically he let it out again and began the mental recitation.

_There is no emotion, there is peace._

_There is no ignorance, there is knowledge_

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

_There is no chaos, there is harmony_

_There is no death, there is the Force._

He continued the code all the way to the temple, where he found the venerable old Jedi Master deep in mediation. He sat crosslegged in the center of a small garden just beyond his quarters . Small, flat pebbles hung lazily in the air around him, a few quivering slightly, as if shifting with the current of the Force. Obi Wan smiled a little and crossed the walkway between them, then lowered himself onto the ground to wait.

Several minutes later, Yoda opened an eye. "Troubled you are, Obi Wan."

"Master Yoda, I feel I have…failed in my responsibilities as a Jedi," Obi Wan replied quietly.

Yoda's other eye slowly opened and he regarded the younger Master solemnly. "Failed, have you?"

"Ten years ago on Tatooine, I fell in love with Padme Amidala. I know these feelings are forbidden, Master, but if I am to be honest, I must admit I love her no less now," he admitted.

"On Tatooine, a Padawan learner you were," Yoda mused. "Yet when returned, ready to face the Trials Qui-Gon named you. Tell him of your love for Padme, did you?"

"Yes, I did," Obi Wan nodded.

"And what advice gave he to you?" inquired Yoda.

"That if I was to be a Jedi Knight, I must be willing to let my feelings for Padme go. But I have done all I know how," Obi Wan replied.

The elder Jedi did not speak again for some time. His eyes closed in consideration, and he gave a thoughtful hum, then fell silent. Obi Wan could feel him stretching out through the Force as if testing the flow, searching for its will. He closed his own eyes, waiting, and quieted his mind, releasing even the hope that Yoda would discern some answer which had eluded him.

"Strong is pull of the Force between you. Many years have you been friends. Loves you in return, does she?" Yoda questioned.

Obi Wan's eyes popped open, and he stroked his beard. "Until today, I had never thought she would," he said.

"And now?"

"Her feelings were…confused. She'd been frightened; she'd just lost a close friend in the assassination attempt. She was angry. At the assassin. At the Senate bureaucracy. I went to offer my support, but…I fear I only made things worse for her. Any change there may have been in her feelings for me was probably reactionary," Obi Wan answered carefully.

Yoda gave a slow nod. "Confused she is, but soon to know her own heart, I think. What then will you do?"

Taking a slow breath to still his own frustration, Obi Wan replied, "I don't know. I want to let go. Qui-Gon said it was a matter of discipline, but I have tried."

"There is no try, Obi Wan. Only do. Or do not. Choose, you must," Yoda declared.

"Choose?" Obi Wan's eyes widened. "Master Yoda, what choice is there? I am a Jedi. I have always been a Jedi; it's…all I have ever wanted."

"Except Padme," Yoda pointed out.

"But, even if I were to leave the Jedi Order, Padme may never return my feelings," protested Obi Wan.

"Whether Padme loves you or not--what change in your feelings?" Yoda asked.

Obi Wan paled at the question. He lowered his eyes, staring down at his own bent knees. Then he looked up again to reply with certainty, "None."

"To hold to your love for Padme or to the teachings of the Jedi. That is your choice, Obi Wan. It matters not if she feels as you do," the elder said.

"I don't know how to make that choice," Obi Wan confessed. "I thought I had made it when I was knighted. But if I truly had, I don't think I would be talking with you now."

"Believed in you, Qui-Gon did. A great Jedi you would make, he said," Yoda reminded him.

"I know, and I don't wish to disappoint him," Obi Wan said.

"Disappoint him you will not, if follow the will of the Force you do," Yoda promised.

"But what is the will of the Force in this instance?" asked Obi Wan.

Yoda fell silent again, leveling a long, measuring look on the younger Jedi. "Believe you that the Force drew you to Padme?"

"I…" Obi Wan paused. To think it and voice it to another Jedi, even Master Yoda--especially Master Yoda--were entirely different things. Yet, why else had he come here? "Yes."

Yoda nodded again. "Drawn to her by the Force it seems you have been. But drawn to her for love?"

"I don't know," admitted Obi Wan.

"Difficult to see, the will of the Force in these matters is," Yoda said slowly. "For this reason does the Jedi Order forbid such attachment. Clouded by strong feelings a Jedi's perceptions may become."

"What should I do?" Obi Wan asked quietly.

"Dark times, these are. Many things hidden from the Jedi. Made in haste, your decision should not be, but yours alone this decision is, Obi Wan. Difficult is the path before you. Difficult but not impossible," Yoda assured him, picking up his walking stick and hoisting himself to his feet. "Now, to Chancellor Palpatine, I must go."

Obi Wan stood as well, offering a deep bow. "Thank you, Master."


	10. The Viper, the Den, and A Jedi's Duty

**The Viper, the Den, and a Jedi's Duty**

Padme and Senator Organa kept a careful distance between themselves as they entered the Chancellor's office. Both had been appointed to the Chancellor's Loyalist committee, and often found themselves in agreement over many issues, especially in regard to the bureaucracy in which the Senate was entrenched. On the Military Creation Act, however, the two were opposed. Organa was expected to vote in favor of the creation of an Army of the Republic, and Typho insisted that this made him as likely a suspect as any other proponent of the legislation's passage--a far more likely suspect, in fact, than any sympathizer to the Separatist movement. While Padme refused to believe that he could be responsible, their opposition on such a critical issue had strained their normally amicable relationship. She entered first, with Dorme, Jar Jar, and Captain Typho, while he hung back with Horox Ryyder.

As they came in, Yoda tapped her lightly with his cane. "Padme, your tragedy on the landing platform...terrible. With you the force is strong... young Senator. Seeing you alive brings warm feeling to my heart," the old Master said.

"Thank you, Master Yoda," she smiled. "Do you have any idea who was behind this attack?"

"Senator, we have nothing definitive, but our intelligence points to disgruntled spice miners on the moons of Naboo," Master Windu spoke up.

"I do not wish to disagree," she said carefully, aware that she was treading on sensitive ground in regard to the Separatist leader, "but I think that Count Dooku was behind it."

"You know, m'lady, that Count Dooku was once a Jedi. He wouldn't assassinate anyone. It's not in his character."

"He is a political idealist, not a murderer," agreed Ki-Adi-Mundi with a nod of his domed head.

Padme held back a sigh and started to respond, but Yoda tapped his cane for attention. "In dark times, nothing is what it appears to be. But the fact remains, Senator, in grave danger you are."

"Master Jedi," Palpatine began, "may I suggest that the Senator be placed under the protection of your graces?"

"Do you think that a wise use of our limited resources at this stressful time?" Organa asked, stroking his beard in thought. He knew her well enough to realize that more security was the last thing she wanted. Typho tensed at his comment, and Padme could almost hear the security officer's mental conviction of her friend and colleague. Especially as Bail continued, "Thousands of systems have gone over fully to the Separatists, and many more may soon join them. The Jedi are our--"

"Chancellor," she interrupted quickly, "if I may comment. I do not believe the--"

"Situation is that serious. No, but I do, Senator," Palpatine cut her off.

"Chancellor, please!" she pleaded. "I do not want any more guards!"

"I realize all too well that additional security might be disruptive for you," Palpatine assured her. "But perhaps someone you are familiar with…an old friend."

Padme's stomach tightened with dread at the sudden turn of the conversation. There was only one "old friend" she had among the Jedi, and Obi Wan was far too duty-minded to refuse on personal grounds. Nor, she suspected, would he have revealed his feelings for her to the Jedi Council. She kept her features entirely impassive, wondering if she could defer without hinting at the painful position into which this would put him.

"Someone like…Master Kenobi?" Palpatine asked, directing the question not to her but to Master Windu.

"That's possible. He has just returned from a border dispute on Ansion," Windu replied.

"You can't object to him, m'lady. I know what close friends you two have been since he watched over you during the Blockade Conflict."

"This is not necessary, Chancellor," Padme insisted, mentally groping for an argument that would hold weight without embarrassing her friend.

"Do it for me, m'lady. Please. I will rest easier. We had a big scare today. The thought of losing you is unbearable," pleaded Palaptine.

Padme's mouth worked silently, and it was all she could do not to look imploringly toward Bail for help. There was nothing she could say to a request like that--not from the Supreme Chancellor. Obi Wan would probably think that she had asked for him, that she'd hoped _his_ presence would be less obtrusive to her than another Jedi. It was the farthest thing from her mind, and yet she found her pulse racing as Windu spoke again.

"I will have Obi Wan report to you immediately, m'lady," he said as the Jedi rose to leave.

She said nothing in response, but as they walked by, Yoda leaned in close to her whispering, "Too little about yourself you worry, Senator, and too much about politics of many kinds. Be mindful of your danger, Padme. Accept our help. His duty by you Obi Wan will do."

_I know he will,_ she thought with an inward sigh. _That's what worries me._

"Senator Amidala," Bail spoke up when the Jedi had gone. She glanced toward him, and he offered a slight smile. "I can well understand your not wanting to be so encumbered by excessive security, but I have come to know Master Kenobi rather well of late, and since the decision appears to be out of your hands, perhaps there is some consolation in knowing that, as your friend, he would probably rather your safety become his responsibility than that of another Jedi."

-----

Later that day, Obi Wan took the turbo lift to Padme's apartment again. This time, though, he was accompanied by Anakin, who was so comically nervous that the Jedi Master couldn't help but tease his young friend despite his own mixed feelings about their current assignment.

"You seem a little on edge, Anakin," he observed, watching the Padawan rearrange his robes and smooth his hair.

"Not at all," the boy replied.

"I haven't seen you this nervous since we fell into that nest of gundarks," Obi Wan remarked.

"You fell into that nightmare, Master, and I rescued you. Remember?" Anakin smirked.

"Oh yes," Obi Wan said, feeling the tension in his own chest ease as they both laughed. A moment later, though, Anakin was visibly nervous.

"You're sweating. Take a deep breath. Relax," advised the Master, inwardly wishing he could do the same.

"I haven't seen her in two years," Anakin pointed out. "She barely talked to me after that whole kidnapping mess anyway…"

"Anakin, relax," Obi-Wan said again, forcing his tone to remain completely casual. "We both told you that what happened on Devaron was not your fault."

The door slid open, and he stepped smoothly into the hall. As he did, he discreetly drew in the calming breath he needed and tried to turn his thoughts away from Devaron and the echoes of his own half conscious words. _I love you. Always have. Since Tatooine…_

Anakin caught up with him as a door further up the hall began to open, and Obi Wan carefully guarded his feelings. Jar Jar caught sight of him stood for a second, then rushed forward, hopping in excitement. With an enthusiasm only a Gungan could display, he grabbed the Jedi's hand and began to shake it.

"Obi! Obi! Obi! Mesa sooo smilen to seein yousa. Wahooooo!" he declared.

"It's good to see you too, Jar Jar," Obi Wan smiled, more than a little glad of the distraction. Jar Jar continued to bounce around, ears and tongue flapping in joyous abandon at the sight of him, and he glanced toward Anakin in embarrassment.

Finally, Jar Jar regained some composure, seeming to remember his station as a diplomat these days, and turned toward the Padawan. "And this, mesa guessen, issen yousa apprentice?"

Obi Wan nodded, but by then the Gungan had recognized Anakin, and began to jump around again as he clapped his hands and shrieked in amazement. "Nooooooooooooo!! Ani? Little bitty Ani?? Mesa no believen! Yousa so biggen!"

"Hi, Jar Jar," Anakin replied with an embarrassed smile of his own just before the Gungan grabbed him in a hug so massive that it swallowed his entire form, still jumping and exclaiming the entire time. Obi Wan watched for a few moments more, then realized that they would probably spend the entire night in the hallway if he didn't intervene.

Taking the Gungan by the arm, he reminded him politely, "We have come to see Senator Amidala. Could you show us to her?"

Jar Jar looked back at him, seeming not to have understood. Then he nodded. "Shesa expecting yousa. Ani! Mesa no believen!" he repeated as he grabbed the Padawan by the hand and dragged him along.

It was only with consummate effort that Obi Wan calmly followed the Gungan back the way he'd come. Anakin's nervous anticipation battered his senses, a painful echo of feelings he could not allow himself to hold, and he stilled the urge to reprimand the boy. _There is no emotion, there is peace._ The words rang hollow and useless in his ears. He wished again that he could have refused this assignment. Yet Yoda had been present when the Chancellor requested that he be sent to protect Padme. He could have voiced an objection and had not. Perhaps the great Master considered this some sort of test, an opportunity for Obi Wan himself to see whether his commitment to the Jedi Order was sufficient--but that implied that Yoda believed he would succeed.

That confidence flattered him, but despite all that his Jedi training had taught him about perception and reality, the weight of the task at hand was overwhelming. He hadn't known if he had the strength to see her again after the events on Devaron had effectively ended their friendship. Going to her after the explosion had been purely instinctive; his only thought had been to offer support, and yet it seemed that in doing so he had brought confusion and pain to her at a time when she needed clarity.

"Mesa here!" Jar Jar announced loudly, cutting off Obi Wan's thoughts. "Lookie, lookie! Desa Jedi arriven!"

The Master held back a tired sigh and forced himself forward. Padme turned to face them, smiling a welcome, he felt anything but able to let go. Her gaze flicked briefly toward Anakin in acknowledgement, then focused back on him, her expression betraying none of the hope and uncertainty he sensed from her.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, m'lady," he murmured.

She moved toward him, clasping his hand warmly in both of hers, and her smile never wavered. "And you, Master Kenobi. I'm so glad our paths have crossed again. Although I promise you, I did tell the Chancellor and the Jedi Council that I felt your presence here was un…a waste of your valuable time," she amended.

"I'm sure that the members of the Council have their reasons," he said as reassuringly as he could.

She gave him an annoyed look in response, then moved her gaze over his shoulder again toward Anakin. She took a step, placing herself in front of the Padawan, and looked him slowly up and down. Then she tilted her head to meet his eyes. "Ani, my goodness, I think you've grown again since last time."

"So have you--grown more beautiful, I mean," Anakin coughed, clearing his throat awkwardly. "And much shorter. For a Senator, I mean."

Obi Wan scowled, suddenly weary of the boy's behavior. Anakin registered his disapproval silently, but Padme's laugh quickly broke the tension. "Oh, Ani, you'll always be that little boy I knew on Tatooine," she declared with a shake of her head.

"Anakin and I will do our best to make our presence here invisible to you, m'lady," Obi Wan spoke up again, rather pointedly.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi, I'm sure you'll do just that," she smiled, and he could _almost _hear the layer of affectionate teasing she might have used before Devaron. Then her tone became brisk and businesslike. "But I don't need any more security. I need answers. I want to know who is trying to kill me. I believe that there might lie an issue of the utmost importance to the Senate. There is something more here..."

"We're here to protect you, Senator, not to start an investigation," Obi Wan reminded her carefully.

"We will find out who's trying to kill you, Padme, I promise you," Anakin insisted, his words nothing less than an echo of the response the Master would have liked to give.

"We will not exceed our mandate, my young Padawan leaner!" he corrected sharply.

"I meant, in the interest of protecting her, Master, of course," Anakin attempted lamely.

"We are not going through this exercise again, Anakin," Obi Wan told him. It would have been one thing for the Padawan to challenge him privately, or even in the company of other Jedi. This, however, was going to far. "You will pay attention to my lead."

"Why?" Anakin demanded.

"What?" Obi Wan exclaimed, openly incredulous.

"Why else do you think we were assigned to her, if not to find the killer?" he asked, obviously backpedaling as he realized that such blatant disrespect was not going to win him the answer he wanted. "Protection is a job for local security, not for Jedi. It's overkill, Master, and so an investigation is implied in our mandate."

"We will do as the Council has instructed," Obi Wan countered. "And you will learn your place, young one."

"Perhaps with merely your presence about me, the mysteries surrounding this threat will be revealed," smiled Padme, and Obi Wan thought appreciatively what a weapon that smile could be. Few could turn a smile into a command as easily as Padme Amidala. Both Master and Padawan let the tension ease from their bodies, and she added, "Now, if you 'll excuse me, I will retire."

She and Dorme both left the room, and Obi Wan leveled a hard look on Anakin. The Padawan returned it brazenly. Neither spoke, unwilling to let the situation deteriorate into a more serious public quarrel, yet each thoroughly displeased with the other.

"Well, I know that I'm glad to have you here," Captain Typho spoke up. "I don't know what's going on here, but the Senator can't have too much security right now. Your friends on the Jedi Council seem to think that miners have something to do with this, but I can't really agree with that."

"What have you learned?" Anakin asked.

Obi Wan shot him a warning look.

"We'll be better prepared to protect the Senator if we have some idea of what we're up against," the Padawan pointed out. Obi Wan said nothing, knowing he couldn't refute the argument.

"Not much," Typho admitted. "Senator Amidala leads the opposition to the creation of a Republic army. She's very determined to deal with the Separatists through negotiation and not force, but the attempts on her life, even though they've failed, have only strengthened the opposition to her viewpoint in the Senate."

"And since the Separatists would not logically wish to see a Republic army formed..." Obi Wan let the statement trail off.

"We're left without a clue," Typho said in frustration. "It's possible that the assassination attempt was a ploy designed to elicit support for the creation of the army, but in any such incident, the first questioning eyes turn toward Count Dooku and the Separatists."

Obi Wan let his expression darken at the statement. While he did not agree in principle with Count Dooku's politics, the man had once been a Jedi. More than that, he had been Qui-Gon Jinn's Master and friend. He would not believe the Count responsible for treachery such as this.

"Or to some of those loyal to his movement, at least. But why they'd go after Senator Amidala is anyone's guess," Typho quickly amended.

"And we are not here to guess, but merely to protect," Obi Wan said in a tone of finality that ended the discussion.

"I'll have an officer on every floor, and I'll be at the command center downstairs," Typho told him with a bow.

Once he'd left, Obi Wan and Anakin began to move about the apartment, studying the layout and looking for possible avenues that an assassin might use. After a moment or two, though, Anakin turned, clearing his throat.

"Master."

Obi Wan turned as well, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

"I apologize for contradicting you. You were right, I forgot my place. I just--" he broke off, shaking his head.

Obi Wan smiled a little. "I'm sorry too, Anakin. I understand that you wish to protect her, and finding the assassin may seem to be the most effective way to do that. But you must tread carefully."

"Yes, Master," the boy nodded.

They turned back to their work, continuing in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then Anakin caught sight of Jar Jar again. Obi Wan felt the boy's thoughts shift and held back a sigh.

"Mesa bustin wit happiness seein yousa again, Ani," said the Gungan.

"She hardly even looked at me, Jar Jar. I've thought about her every day since we parted, and she's forgotten me completely." Anakin said dejectedly. His gaze shifted toward Padme's bedroom door, and Obi Wan inadvertently let his attention drift there. As he did, he felt again her confusion--confusion and a new sadness. He determinedly turned his mind back to the work before him, knowing that he could best serve Padme by keeping her safe.

"Why yousa sayen that?" Jar Jar asked.

"You saw her," Anakin replied.

"Shesa happy," the Gungan assured him. "Happier than mesa see'en her in a longo time. These are bad times, Ani. Bombad times!"

"Anakin, you're focusing on the negative again. Be mindful of your thoughts. She was pleased to see us--leave it at that…" Obi Wan started to say as he approached the duo. His words trailed off as a flash of memory touched his mind, not his but one so close it might have been.

"Yes, my Master," Anakin replied, but Obi Wan barely heard him.

-----

_Goodnight, Padme._

How could it hurt so much that he hadn't said two such innocent words? Ten years ago on Tatooine, it had been those words more than any others that brought the comfort she needed. He'd spoken them with such simple, quiet kindness, and she'd returned them with an ease and familiarity that should have surprised her, given the short time that they'd known one another. It never had surprised her though; she'd never stopped to ask how it was that she struck up and maintained such an odd friendship with a Jedi Padawan.

_I don't want to lose my best friend._

She hadn't either. Yet she had sacrificed that friendship. Why? She set down the brush in her hand, staring at her own reflection in the mirror on her vanity table. Was it because she thought that in doing so she would spare him greater pain? She closed her eyes, still unsure.

The door chime sounded behind her hand she turned, running her hands over bare arms that were suddenly covered with gooseflesh. She pushed back her chair and stood, quickly moving to pick up a light robe from the foot of the bed. It was sheer and white, and she realized abruptly that it offered very little more covering than her nightgown, but it was all she had in the room.

"Come in, Obi Wan," she sighed as she slipped it over her shoulders.

The door slid open to admit him, and he stepped inside, remaining tentatively by the wall beside it. "I wanted to apologize, You High…I mean, m'lad…" he trailed off, running a hand over his face and trying to stifle a laugh.

Padme bit her cheek, but knew it was already too late. His eyes met hers, and both dissolved into relieved laughter, the strain between them washed away as quickly as it had developed. "I get that a lot, actually," she quipped.

"I imagine you would," Obi Wan grinned, pushing himself off the wall.

She started toward him at the same time, reaching for his hands. He gave them without reservation, and they stood silently for a moment. Then he drew her lightly against his chest, resting his chin on the top of her hair.

"I've missed you, Obi Wan," she told him softly. "I'm sorry."

"I've missed you too," he replied.

Padme closed her eyes, letting her cheek rest against the beating of his heart. Slowly, almost unconsciously, she felt her awareness of his warmth and strength begin to change. The fabric of her robe seemed thinner than ever, and his closeness, innocent and comforting a moment ago, suddenly made her pulse quicken. She felt him shift to replace his chin with his lips and hardly dared to breathe.

"Obi Wan…?" she asked hesitantly.

"Nothing has changed for me, Padme," he told her as he stepped back. "I'm--going downstairs to check the security. Anakin will be here if you need anything."


	11. A Night For a Knight

Anakin was leaning on the wall directly opposite the door as Obi Wan stepped back out of Padme's bedroom. The Master paused, blinking in surprise as he registered the intensity of resentment and envy that the boy emanated. He folded his arms.

"Anakin. What are you doing?" he asked.

"What are _you_ doing?" the Padawan responded sharply.

Obi Wan's brow furrowed. "I was saying goodnight to my friend. Now I'm going downstairs," he said in rebuke. "Be mindful of your duties."

Anakin held his gaze, leveling him a hard look much similar to one that Obi Wan himself had given Qui-Gon Jinn ten years ago. Similar, he thought, and yet seeming to hold more than disappointment or even rebuke. He calmly returned the look, keeping his expression and posture devoid of any discomfort, but it triggered a faint uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. He had often disagreed with Qui-Gon, and when they were alone, he had had no qualms about expressing his opinions to his Master. Still, he had never envied Qui-Gon, and whether justified or not, Anakin's feelings now were unsettling. He knew that the relationship he had with his Padawan was not identical to the one that he and Qui-Gon had shared. There were elements of both parental and brotherly roles between them: affection and rivalry, respect and antagonism. This, though, seemed to have very little to do with a student's disapproval of his teacher's perceived conduct or a brother's irritation and ill-temper.

Finally however, the boy lowered his gaze. "Yes, my Master," he said.

Obi Wan swept from the room, striding out into the hall. Once there, he began to wonder just what it was that Anakin had been thinking. The Master had been careful to shield any emotion or thought that might implicate Padme in misconduct. He had no intention of justifying himself to his apprentice, nor did he feel he should have to, but Padme's reputation was another matter. She was a member of the Republic Senate, a respected diplomat, and most importantly at the moment, the leader of the political opposition to the Military Creation Act. The passage or refusal of that particular piece of legislation would have profound consequences for the future of the Galactic Republic, and while he was not overly fond of politics or politicians in general, Obi Wan realized that a mark on her public image, however unjustified, might have catastrophic consequences. Could Anakin have discerned something of his feelings despite his effort to conceal them? He didn't think so, but the alternative was more disturbing.

He pushed these concerns aside for the moment and focused on the task at hand, checking the positions of Typho's troops and the command center itself. All seemed in order, but after talking with the captain in greater detail about the explosion and all that had been done to ensure Padme's safety--broadcasting false entry lanes to the landing pad, escort fighters and more--he felt no less at ease. Whoever had ordered the assassination, those carrying it out were professionals. Yet the Jedi sensed more at work than a simple hit contract. More--but what?

His perceptions did indeed seem clouded. By his love for Padme or by something else? A sense of darkness had settled over the Jedi Master that he could not shake. He was too much a realist to discard the notion that his own desire to protect her was responsible for this, that his fears were manifesting false awareness. Still, as he examined the situation, he did not believe this to be the case, and a Jedi learned foremost to trust his feelings.

In the end, he arrived at no definite conclusion. He made his way back to the apartment, where he could sense Anakin waiting beyond the door. He started to smile at the Padawan's vigilance, then caught the undercurrent of excitement in the boy as the door opened.

"Captain Typho has more than enough men downstairs," he said, deciding that he didn't wish to renew tensions between them with another lecture. There was little he could say that Anakin had not already heard. "No assassin will try that way. Any activity up here?"

"Quiet as a tomb," Anakin replied. "I don't like just waiting here for something to happen."

The Master gave a resigned shake of his head and pulled a scanner from his belt to check the bedroom. He frowned as he saw a clear shot of Artoo by the door but not Padme herself, who should have been visible in the bed.

"She covered the cam. I don't think she liked me watching her," Anakin explained

"What is she _thinking_?" Obi Wan cried, as close to angry now the Jedi would allow himself to become. "Her security is paramount, and is compromised--"

"She programmed Artoo to warn us if there's an intruder," Anakin cut him off.

"It's not an intruder I'm worried about. There are many ways to kill a Senator," he reminded the Padawan.

"I know, but we also want to catch this assassin," Anakin replied stubbornly. "Don't we, Master?"

"You're using her as bait?" Obi Wan felt his eyes widen incredulously, and he stared at his Padawan in disbelief. He knew that Padme, for all her ability as a diplomat and a politician, could be impetuous, and given how they'd met, he would not put a plan like this past her, but for Anakin to support it…!

"It was her idea," Anakin he insisted. "Don't worry. No harm will come to her. I can sense everything going on in that room. Trust me."

"It's too risky," Obi Wan told him firmly. "Besides, your senses aren't that attuned, my young apprentice."

"And yours are?" Anakin asked with a smirk.

"Possibly," allowed Obi Wan.

-----

_She met him at the door, sliding her arms around his neck before he could react. Instinctively, his own arms wound around her waist, and he grinned down at her, though his eyes were full of surprise. "Well, hello," he said in the moment before their lips met._

_She kissed him long and deeply, making sure that he could have no doubt of her intentions. He responded ardently, his hands sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. Padme laughed, taking a step back, and he gave her a bemused smile._

_"Hi," she replied, grabbing his hands to lead him into the room._

_He followed willingly, blue eyes flicking down over the filmy red negligee she wore, really seeing it for the first time. He laughed softly, meeting her gaze again, and shook his head in fond disbelief. "What are you doing?"_

_She replied with another kiss, leading him toward the bedroom. He didn't resist, but he gave his head a halfhearted shake as he pulled his mouth away. "I only came to change my clothes. I've got to go, they're waiting for me…"_

_"I've been waiting longer," she whispered against his ear._

_The last of his resolve crumbled, and he buried his face in her neck, kissing softly, urgently. Padme shivered at the touch of his lips, letting her eyes slide closed. "I love you," she promised, pressing her hand to the back of his head. "Always have…"_

_"This is all I've ever wanted," he said with sudden desperation, and it was Anakin who raised his head to look at her with a passion so intense that it was almost frightening._

_"Ani…?" she asked, feeling her throat tighten as he raised a mechanical hand to caress her cheek._

_"Don't worry, Padme. I am the Chosen One…"_

She woke with a start, then froze in terror, unable even to scream at the sight of two monstrous creatures before her face. They hissed menacingly, and the door burst open. Anakin threw himself in front of her, his lightsaber flashing out to cut them in half, but Padme's attention was torn away by the sound of shattering glass.

"Obi Wan!" she screamed as he crashed through the window. Anakin stared dumbly at her, and she quickly pulled her nightgown around her shoulders, suppressing a shudder at the lingering memory of her dream. Both turned back to the window, staring in shock and disbelief at the sight of the elder Jedi being carried off by an airborne probe droid.

"Stay here!" Anakin cried, rushing out the door.

As he ran out, Typho and Dorme entered, flanked by a pair of guards. Swiftly taking in the scene, Dorme asked, "Are you all right, m'lady?"

Padme gave a half stunned nod and swallowed, finally managing to pull herself off the bed. Typho moved to intercept her, but she slid past him to reach the window, scanning the night sky for the Jedi. She raised a hand to her hair, tightening her fingers into a fist to give it a tug of frustration and worry. There was nothing she could do, no way to reach or help him. Everything depended on Anakin.

_"Don't worry, Padme. I am the Chosen One…"_

She shuddered and Dorme came up behind her, slipping her forgotten robe over her shoulders. The decoy gently urged her away from the window, and she reluctantly turned, letting the other woman lead her out of the bedroom. _What was he thinking?_ she demanded silently as the initial shock faded. The anger didn't last long, though, dissipated by a fear she hadn't felt since Devaron.

_Obi Wan…_

What was I thinking?? Obi Wan demanded of himself as the droid carried him off. It's defensive systems activated, sending surges of electricity through his hands. He winced and grit his teeth, using the Force to shunt away the pain and absorb some of the energy as he fought to hang on. An idea struck as it darted in and out of traffic, and he let go with one hand to search for the power wire. A moment after he pulled it out, he realized his mistake.

"Not good, not good!" he told himself as the now incapacitated droid dropped toward the city below.

He hurriedly reconnected the wire and the droid lit up again, then rocketed off. Then it decided that if its own defenses couldn't shake him loose, perhaps the surrounding environment could. It smashed him into a wall, but the Jedi stubbornly held his grip. It wove through traffic again, moving behind a speeder to scorch him with the vehicle's afterburner.

_Oh, Anakin…?_ he called through the Force when there was still no sign of his Padawan. His eyes widened as he realized what the droid was going to try next, and he hurriedly pulled up his legs as it skimmed low over a rooftop. It was heading toward a beat up speeder hidden in the alcove of another building when the explosions started.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Obi Wan remarked, shortly before the droid took a direct hit from the assassin's blaster rifle.

He screamed and plummeted, feeling his stomach rise into his throat as he fell toward the teeming Coruscanti nightlife below. There was brief sensation of weightlessness, but the Jedi knew it was an illusion, and he stretched out to the Force, looking around desperately. He saw nothing that could help him, no platform or handhold, nothing on which to attach a grapple.

_Anakin!!!_ he sent again.

_Patience, Master,_ he heard, just before the speeder swooped in next to him. As he brought the vehicle closer and Obi Wan managed to grab the back end of it, his Padawan continued aloud, "Hitchhikers usually stand on the platforms. A novel approach, though. Gets the attention of passing traffic."

Obi Wan was too busy trying to clambor his way into the passenger seat to respond, but Anakin wasn't bothered. Once his Master was inside, he went on, "That was wacky. I almost lost you in the traffic."

"What took you so long?" demanded Obi Wan.

"Oh, you know, Master, I couldn't find a speeder I really liked, with an open cockpit--and with the right speed capabilities. Then you know I had to get a really gonzo color... " Anakin cracked.

"There!" the elder shouted, indicating the speeder that the assassin was using, and Anakin swerved to pursue. Their adversary began immediately firing on them, and Obi Wan ducked, getting thrown about as Anakin tried to avoid being hit. While this went on, he continued, "If you'd spend as much time working on your lightsaber skills as you do on your wit, young Padawan, you would rival Master Yoda as a swordsman."

"I thought I already did."

"Only in your mind, my very, very young Padawan," Obi Wan retorted, then cried out and ducked again as Anakin dove in and out of traffic in pursuit of the assassin. "Careful! Hey, easy! You know I don't like it when you do that!"

"Sorry, I forgot you don't like flying, Master!" Anakin apologized.

"I don't mind flying, but what you're doing is suicide!" Obi Wan told him as they narrowly missed a commuter train and he felt his stomach lurch back up into his throat.

"Master, you know I've been flying since before I could walk. I'm very good at this," grinned the boy.

"Just slow down," Obi Wan told him, swallowing hard to avoid throwing up.

Instead of slowing, though, Anakin increased speed again and took them directly in front of a line of massive trucks. The pursuit continued in dizzying circles until Anakin actually brought the craft up onto it's edge to skim the side of a building.

"He can't lose me. He's getting desperate," Anakin assured him.

"Great," Obi Wan answered dryly. Then he paled as the assassin dove in front of a tram tunnel. "Oh, wait! Don't go in there!"

Anakin, naturally, paid no attention, and just as soon as he had sped into the tunnel, he swerved around and shot out again, pursued by a train. "YOU KNOW I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT!" Obi Wan bellowed.

-----

Dorme quietly handed her a cup of caf, and Padme nodded her thanks to the decoy, slipping into a chair. The decoy stayed nearby, occasionally nodding or answering a question from Captain Typho, who was prowling like a caged beast and restructuring the entire security detail while alternately trying to trace the Jedi. She rolled the hot mug between her hands and tried to focus on what he was telling her--something about Anakin stealing a parked speeder to chase down his Master.

Her mind kept drifting inexplicably off, though. The scent of the caf triggered the irrational memory of her discussion with Obi Wan about the popular beverage while they were on Tatooine. He'd never liked it--in fact, continued not to like it--and when she commented that it was an acquired taste, he'd asked quite seriously,

"Well, what's the point of an acquired taste?"

She bit her cheek to keep from laughing, wondering what exactly was wrong with her. He'd just jumped out a window a miles above the streets of Coruscant. She had no idea whether he was alive or dead. Of all the times for a fit of giggles, this was definitely not it. She knew that stress and worry could do strange things, but she had never been the type to buckle in a crisis.

_What are you doing, Padme Amidala?_ she scolded herself.

What are you doing? his laughing question echoed through her mind. Before she kissed him. She swallowed convulsively and set down the mug, her whole body feeling suddenly flushed with the memory. She had met him at the door in a negligee. Her hands began to shake as she remembered again the touch of his fingers, the taste of his lips. He buried his face against her neck again and she fought a shiver.

_Don't worry, Padme. I am the Chosen One._

She jerked back in her chair, and both Dorme and Typho eyed her questioningly. She gave a dismissive shake of her head and picked up the mug again, hiding behind it as she mumbled, "I must be going crazy."

-----

"I'm crazy, I'm crazy, I'm crazy," Obi Wan muttered to himself, staring straight ahead. The words were a mantra against the memory of the last several minutes. He had just been fired upon from point blank range, and a short while later forced to crawl out on the front end of the speeder to dislodge a flag from one of the air scoops. Next, Anakin had chased the assassin through a refinery and piloted them directly through the arc of a giant bolt of electricity when their quarry fired on a power coupling. Then, when the Padwan pursued the other speeder around a corner, they found their target blocking the next alley, rifle pointed directly at them. Diving under it, Anakin had nearly taken off their heads, then piloted them through a small gap in the building beyond, where he collided with several pipes and lost control. By the time he recovered, he barely had time to avoid a crane, clipped a pair of giant struts, and stalled the speeder when the damage sent up a giant ball of flaming gas that nearly killed them and sent the speeder spinning, and they bounced off another wall before he could stop it again.

"I got us through that one all right…" Anakin attempted.

"No you didn't! We've stalled! And you almost got us killed!" Obi Wan cried, snapping out of his moment of shock at the Padawan's seeming nonchalance.

"I think we're still alive," Anakin grinned, looking himself over and wiggling his fingers in his best attempt to charm the elder Jedi. Obi Wan glared, unimpressed, and the boy busied himself trying to get the speeder started.

"It was stupid!" Obi Wan fired at him, determined, for once, to make the boy understand that his recklessness had consequences.

"I could have made it…" Anakin offered sheepishly.

"But you didn't!!! And now we've lost him for good--" the words were barely out of the Master's mouth when blaster fire began all around them, setting off a series of explosion. They looked up to see the assassin's speeder take off again, and Anakin suddenly pulled their speeder up, moving them in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?! He went down there, the other way," Obi Wan pointed out.

"Master, if we keep this chase going, that creep's gonna end up deep-fried. Personally, I'd very much like to find out who he is and who he's working for," explained Anakin. "This is a shortcut... I think."

"What do you mean, you think?" demanded Obi Wan as they began to move again. Anakin's only response was to swerve in and out of several alleys and passageways, until Obi Wan sighed. "Well, you lost him."

"I'm deeply sorry, Master," Anakin replied in a tone that clearly said he wasn't.

"Well, this is some kind of shortcut. He went completely the other way!" complained Obi Wan as the Padawan began to look around. "Once again, Anakin…"

"Excuse me for a moment," interrupted Anakin, suddenly vaulting out of the speeder.

Obi Wan peered over the side in time to see him land atop the assassin's speeder, about five stories below. "I hate it when he does that," he sighed.


	12. Night's End

"M'lady, the speeder's been located," Typho reported with a bland expression that immediately told Padme there was more she needed to know.

"Where?" she demanded, setting her second mug of caf down with a clack.

"Outside a club on the lower streets," he explained. "Apparently, young Anakin lost control during a high speed chase and almost collided with the assassin. Among other things."

"What other things?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. She felt suddenly cold, but told herself that Obi Wan must have been with him if Anakin was willing to chase the perpetrator down. He could be impulsive, but he wouldn't abandon Obi Wan or jeopardize his Master's safety in pursuit of a criminal.

She listened as the captain explained the details of the chase, holding back a sigh with each new stunt she heard Anakin had pulled. Then her eyes bulged when he went on to say that the Master Jedi had actually been seen climbing out on the front of the speeder to pull a banner out of one of the air scoops.

"I hope he doesn't get them both killed," Padme heard herself say as she pressed a hand to her forehead.

"Master Kenobi seems to have survived the past ten years, m'lady," Typho offered with a faint smirk.

Padme bit her lip, realizing how uncharitable the comment must have sounded. Whatever Ani had done, she knew the boy meant well. His initiation into the Jedi Order had been unorthodox, and she knew that Obi Wan often clashed with him, but the complaints he shared with her were the same as those he had raised about his own mentor. Ani was reckless, impulsive, rarely respected authority--but like Qui-Gon, Ani had a good heart.

"Of course he has, Captain," she smiled now. "Anakin wouldn't really let anything happen to his Master."

-----

"Why do I think that you're going to be the death of me?" Obi Wan said tiredly as he and Anakin entered the club where they had finally cornered their quarry.

"Don't say that, Master," Anakin pleaded solemnly. "You're the closest thing I have to a father. I love you, and I don't want to cause you pain."

"Then why don't you listen to me?" Obi Wan snapped, instantly regretting it.

"I _am _trying," Anakin told him earnestly.

_Please don't make a judgment before getting to know Ani. He has a good heart, _Padme's words came back to him. Obi Wan let out a long sigh. "Anakin," he shook his head, giving the boy's arm a squeeze. "Come on. Do you see him?"

"I think he's a she."

"Then be extra careful," Obi Wan told him with a snort.

"And I think she's a changeling," went on Anakin.

"Go and find her," Obi Wan instructed, heading toward the bar.

"Where are you going, Master?" Anakin wanted to know.

"To get a drink," he replied flatly. He could feel the Padawan's surprise but offered no further explanation. Calmly sitting at the bar, he signaled the barkeeep and ordered a drink, then simply waited. If he was right, the convenient target of his exposed back would draw their quarry out again.

As the barkeep returned with his drink, a being with a wild shock of hair that seemed to be sprouting a pair of antennae sidled up to him. Obi Wan didn't bother turning to focus on the newcomer, already alert to the approach of danger.

"Wanna buy some death sticks?" the stranger asked. "Nobody's got better death sticks than Elan Sleazebaggano,"

"You don't want to sell me death sticks," Obi Wan replied with a slight motion of his fingers as he deftly imposed his will on the other's mind.

"I don't want to sell you death sticks," repeated the stranger.

"You want to go home and rethink your life," the Jedi Master told him calmly.

"I want to go home and rethink my life," Elan Sleazebaggano agreed, then turned and left.

Obi Wan picked up his drink and knocked it back, then signaled the barkeep for a refill. His sense of imminent danger was heightening and he stretched out with the Force, carefully pinpointing the origin. Locating the assassin, he felt a spike of anger at her ruthlessness. _Had she stalked Padme this way?_ he wondered, but banished the distraction as quickly as it entered his mind.

The blaster pistol came to bear on his back and the Jedi Master spun. His lightsaber was in his hand and ignited by the time he finished the turn, creating a perfect blue arc that severed the bounty hunter's arm above the elbow. The room erupted, and Anakin was instantly at his side, raising his hands to calm the crowd.

"Easy!" he called, drawing on the Force to control the crowd. "Official business. Go back to your drinks."

Gradually, the club patrons did as he bid them, and Master and Padawan together took the assassin out to the street where they lowered her onto the ground. The last thing Obi Wan Kenobi wanted to do was treat the wound of the being who had so nearly murdered the woman he loved. He was a Jedi however, and so he forced himself to kneel beside the hunter, who was now staring in silent defiance up at his apprentice. Finally, she nodded.

"Do you know who it was you were trying to kill?" Obi Wan asked her, keeping his tone rigidly under control.

"The Senator from Naboo," was the callous response.

"Who hired you?" the Master demanded, now barely reigning in his outrage.

"It was just a job," the would be a assassin glared.

Obi Wan did not react. He kept himself entirely still and did not reach out through the Force as his instincts demanded. As easily as he had manipulated the death stick dealer inside, he knew he could have reached into this woman's mind and take the information he needed--rip it out as it deserved to be. He put aside the desire, put aside his anger even as Anakin's palpable fury tore through him.

"Who hired you? Tell us!" Anakin he insisted, stepping forward in an effort to intimidate the woman.

"That Senator's gonna die soon anyway, and the next one won't make the same mistake I did," she fired at him smugly.

"This wound's going to need more treatment than I can give it here," Obi Wan forced himself to say in a quiet tone. He willed his posture to remain unchanged, willed the muscles of his jaw not to clench with suppressed anger. It occurred to him how easy it would be--Anakin certainly wouldn't object--but he kept himself motionless.

"Tell us... tell us now!" demanded Anakin.

The assassin continued to glare, but finally did start to speak. "It was a bounty hunter called…"

Her words were cut off by a sudden, soft but unmistakable noise. She twitched, eyes widening in surprise, and Obi Wan felt her life slip away as her human features twisted and morphed back into her natural Clawdite form. Both he and Anakin stared in disbelief, then tore their eyes away to peer upward. They spotted a man in an armored rocket-suit take off from a roof above them, but Obi Wan knew that they had no hope of pursuit.

He lowered his eyes to the woman on the ground again and reached to remove a projectile from her neck. "Toxic dart," he pronounced grimly.


	13. Taking Leave

Even as she and Dorme rushed about the room gathering clothing and other belongings, Padme was inwardly seething. She worked briskly and thoroughly, attacking the luggage as she would have liked to attack Chancellor Palpatine--and yes, even the Jedi Council. In fact, if Obi Wan had been there, she would have made sure he knew in no uncertain terms exactly how she felt about his Order at the moment. Of course, if she had, he would have stood there impassively, listening to her with the same annoyingly attentive expression he always used when she was angry--under which she could still always see the amused grin he was hiding. Then he would crack a joke the way he had on Tatooine, and she would huff in outrage that he was making light of a serious situation. _Then_ he would say with all the aplomb he could muster that he wouldn't dare make light of the senator's displeasure and she would be left fighting to stay angry.

Except he _wasn't _here, she reminded her self sharply as she slammed the cover a suitcase down and straightened, placing a hand to the small of her back. He was off _investigating_ while she was stuck sneaking back to Naboo with Ani as her protection. The ludicrousness of that situation struck her as she stepped toward Jar Jar, still ignoring the Padawan as he stood waiting by the door.

"I'm taking an extended leave of absence. It will be your responsibility to take my place in the Senate. Representative Binks, I know I can count on you," she intoned, hoping the formality of her speech would impress upon the Gungan how serious the situation was.

"Mesa honored..." Jar Jar began to stand at attention, but with his head and ears flopping around, he looked entirely ridiculous.

"What?" Padme cut him off sternly.

"Mesa honored to be taken on dissa heavy burden. Mesa accept this with muy... muy humility andda--" Jar Jar told her pompously.

"Jar Jar, I don't wish to hold you up," Padme interrupted impatiently. "I'm sure you have a great deal to do."

"Of course, m'lady," the Gungan bowed, then hurried out of the room, remarking to Anakin as he went, "Shesa in a muy bad mood."

Padme leveled a firey look at the Padawan, letting him know that she would brook no joking from him, and announced, "I do not like this idea of hiding!"

"Don't worry. Now that the Council has ordered an investigation, it won't take Master Obi Wan long to find out who hired that bounty hunter. We should have done that from the beginning. It is better to take the offensive against such a threat, to find out the source rather than try to react to the situation," he rambled.

"And while your Master investigates, I have to hide away," she complained, in no mood now for a pretense of worldliness from a boy whose tears she'd dried because he was cold on the flight from Tatooine to Coruscant.

"That would be most prudent, yes," he said in a transparent attempt at his Master's impassivity.

"I haven't worked for a year to defeat the Military Creation Act not to be here when its fate is decided!" Padme declared with a frustrated sigh.

"Sometimes we have to let go of our pride and do what is requested of us," he said mildly.

"Pride?" Padme cried incredulously. She considered for one moment reminding him of his own pride the night before--or any of a plethora of other occasions that Obi Wan had shared with her in their correspondence over the years. She resisted the urge, though, knowing that it would embarrass him, and though she was angry, she knew that Anakin did not deserve that. Still, his rather obvious hypocrisy warranted some response, so she said with a clear tone of authority, "Ani, you're young, and you don't have a very firm grip on politics. I suggest you reserve your opinions for some other time."

"Sorry, m'lady, I was only trying to--"

"Ani! No!" she exclaimed.

"Please don't call me that," he said with sudden sincerity.

She stopped short. "What?"

"Ani. Please don't call me 'Ani,' " he pleaded.

"I've always called you that. It is your name, isn't it?" she asked, beginning to feel some of her anger dissipate.

"My name is Anakin," he said firmly. "When you say Ani, it's like I'm still a little boy. And I'm not."

Padme grew still, then slowly let her eyes move over the boy's lean form. Abruptly it struck her that he was now older than she had been while she was the reigning monarch of her homeworld. He might still always be little Ani in her heart, but she had to admit that he was of an age that denoted at least the respect due a burgeoning adult. He lacked the maturity that she had possessed as Queen of Naboo and was still very obviously infatuated, but she had to ask herself how she would have felt if a member of the Senate had addressed her with a childish diminutive.

"I'm sorry, Anakin. It's impossible to deny you've... that you've grown up," she finished, still finding it an odd thing to say.

"Master Obi Wan manages not to see it. He criticizes my every move, as if I was still a child. He didn't listen to me when I insisted that we go in search of the source of the assassination," he complained.

"Mentors have a way of seeing more of our faults than we would like," Padme said carefully. She agreed that there were times Obi Wan was too hard on Anakin, but she also understood the Master's reasons. "It's the only way we grow."

"Don't get me wrong," he said quickly, realizing that he was addressing a close friend of his Master. "Obi Wan is a great mentor, as wise as Master Yoda and as powerful as Master Windu. I am truly thankful to be his learner. Only…only, although I'm a Padawan learner, in some ways--in a lot of ways--I'm ahead of him. I'm ready for the Trials. I know I am! He knows it, too. He feels I'm too unpredictable--other Jedi my age have gone through the trials and made it. I know I started my training late, but he won't let me move on."

"That must be frustrating," said Padme. She kept her tone full of sympathy the way only a diplomat could, but she had the distinct impression of a chafing son complaining about his father to a favorite aunt, much the way the father had often voiced _his_ view of the situation to her.

"It's worse!" Anakin exclaimed. "He's overly critical! He never listens! He just doesn't understand! It's not fair!"

Padme couldn't stifle a laugh. Obi Wan may have been overly critical, but she knew well which of the pair "never listened"--and the last complaint was simply too much. "I'm sorry. You sounded exactly like that little boy I once knew, when he didn't get his way," she told him, trying and failing to keep from giggling.

"I'm not whining! I'm not," he insisted, and Dorme began to laugh as well.

"I didn't say it to hurt you," Padme promised, immediately contrite.

"I know," he said as he drew a deep breath and released it again.

She smiled, crossing the distance between them to lay a hand on his cheek. As she looked into his eyes, though, she had to fight the urge to take a step back. Simmering below the hopeful kindness of the boy she knew was the same intensity she had seen in her dream. Quickly bringing her skills as a diplomat to bear, she infused a lightheartedness into her tone that she didn't feel, hoping to make her point in a way that wouldn't hurt him more than she inadvertently had.

"Anakin. Don't try to grow up too fast," she urged.

"I am grown up. You said it yourself," he reminded her, his gaze moving even deeper, the words clearly laced with innuendo.

_Don't worry, Padme. I am the Chosen One._

"Please don't look at me like that," she turned away, trying to erase the image of the mechanical hand as it brushed her cheek, trying not to feel again the cool metal touch.

"Why not?" he asked, still pushing.

"Because I can see what you're thinking," she told him flatly.

Anakin attempted a casual laugh. "Oh, so you have Jedi powers, too?"

"It makes me uncomfortable," she said firmly, noting the look of concern that Dorme shot her.

"Sorry, m'lady," he apologized, but even as he retreated into the veneer of professional civility, she could feel the unwelcome tension in the air between them.

-----

Arrangements were finalized that afternoon. Disguised as peasants, Anakin and Padme would catch an outbound freighter to Naboo. Obi Wan, Typho, and Dorme would accompany them on the transport to the freight docks, keeping a discreet distance aboard. He knew that he would see her as she exited the shuttle, but Obi Wan wanted a moment alone with her.

"Take the turbolift down with Captain Typho and Dorme," he instructed Anakin. "We'll catch up outside."

The Padawan regarded him with surprise, raising his eyebrows questioningly. The Master could feel a spike of jealousy from him and his expression darkened with concern. Something had occurred between the two of them before he arrived; he could feel the residual discomfort from both Padme and Dorme, but neither woman had volunteered anything and he had decided not to push. Padme was clearly still upset about being forced back to Naboo this close to the impending vote, and he thought that they had most likely clashed over that.

"Yes, Master," Anakin bowed stiffly.

He waited until the others had gone and the door was closed behind them, then offered a smile. "So?" he asked.

"So…what?" she frowned.

"Aren't you going to let me have it?" he prompted.

"No," she smiled.

"You're not?" now his eyebrows rose.

"Well, do you want me to?" she tilted her head.

"Not really, but it did seem rather unavoidable," he told her.

"Well, it seems I have a lot to learn about the Jedi," she teased. "I didn't know they were masochists."

"I'm a special case," he retorted.

"Well, fortunately for you, I've already let Anakin have it," she laughed.

"Oh. Well, lucky me. You didn't hurt him did you?" Obi Wan asked.

"I thought you'd trained him well enough not to get hurt by a politician," remarked Padme.

"I think you're a special case too," Obi Wan replied.

The comment was innocent, but her cheeks reddened, and her smile became suddenly shy. She glanced away, murmuring, "Thank you."

He cleared his throat, glad his beard could hide his own embarrassment, and shifted the subject. "Padme, I _do_ understand how important this vote is. You should be here. I'll do everything I can to conduct the investigation quickly and see you back in time."

"I know you will, Obi Wan," she smiled again. Then she let out a sigh and reached for the suitcase that Anakin had left. "I guess we should go."

He nodded, then started to reach into his belt. "I have something--" he started to say as the hastily stuffed bag in her hand sprang open, spilling its contents onto the floor.

With a small noise of disgust, Padme knelt and began to throw her clothes and a collection of datapads back inside. Obi Wan swiftly moved to help her, then froze as her fingers accidentally brushed the back of his hand. She looked up, startled, and both swallowed hard as their gazes locked.

"I have something for you," he forced out.

Her face flushed again. "You--you do?"

Drawing a shaky breath, Obi Wan nodded. He glanced away briefly and pulled his comlink from his belt. Tears sparkled in her eyes as he pressed it into her palm, but he resisted the urge to raise his free hand to her cheek, focusing his attention instead on folding her fingers around it.

"Thank you," she said quietly, covering his with hers before he could draw away again

"Remember Tatooine," he smiled.


	14. In Our Darkest Dreams

Padme grinned as Artoo scooted back through the crowd toward her and the now sleeping Anakin. The droid had now been a faithful companion for ten years-- as faithful as any of her handmaidens and as valiant a protector in its own way as Obi Wan or Qui-Gon had been. It had been Artoo who managed to raise the shields, allowing the ship carrying her and the Jedi to escape the Trade Federation blockade. It had also been the droid who was responsible--indirectly--for her introduction to Obi Wan.

Her smile softened at that thought, at the weight of the comlink hidden her pocket. _Remember Tatooine,_ he had told her. Once she would have taken it for simple reassurance, a promise that he would do all he could to help her, just as he had on the desert world so long ago. Now though, it seemed laden with hidden meaning--things he couldn't say, that she wasn't sure she _wanted_ him to say but wasn't sure she didn't. The friendship he had extended to her had been exactly what she needed, and she had always believed that the same was true for him, especially later, when his Master died defending all of them from a Sith Lord. It still seemed strange to think that he had been in love with her even then, that his warmth and support had been motivated by more than innocent, platonic enjoyment of their conversations. He had never given a hint that he cared so deeply, that even part of him wanted a romantic relationship. Suddenly everything that had happened to them, every touch, every conversation, took on a whole new light. She tried again to tell herself that she didn't want it, didn't want _him_. Her work was too important, and he was a Jedi Knight--a Jedi _Master. _Yet she had to force herself to breathe when she thought of their eyes meeting today, of his gentleness as he folded her fingers around the comlink and the way her own hand still tingled at the memory of their skin touching.

"No, no!" cried Anakin beside her, shaking her from her thoughts. "Mom, no!"

She hurriedly turned, frowning in concern as she saw the young Jedi sweating and thrashing about.

"Anakin?" she shook him a bit, trying to rouse him from the nightmare.

"No, Mom!" he cried, pulling away from her, his feet now kicking out as well, as if he were running from something.

"Anakin!" she tried again, giving him a harder shake.

"What?" he looked around in confusion, then stared up at her.

"You seemed to be having a nightmare," she told him quietly.

He continued to stare, and she felt her throat tighten inexplicably as her own recent dream came back to her. Forcing the images from her mind, she turned to Artoo and took a bowl of mush and some bread. "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," he nodded, sitting up and running a hand through his unkempt hair. "Thanks.

"We went into hyperspace a while ago," she explained.

"How long was I asleep?" he asked worriedly.

"You had a good nap," she smiled, trying to keep the conversation light.

He gave her a long look, his expression shifting and becoming suggestive again in a way that made her want to shrink away. "I look forward to seeing Naboo again. "I've thought about it every day since I left. It's by far the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

She tore her eyes away, trying to calm her racing heart. _It's Ani. Just Ani. He'd never hurt anyone. It was a dream, that's all,_ she told herself. Even as she thought the words, though, she couldn't shake the ominous sense that it had been more. His gaze was penetrating and full of a passion she knew well that a Jedi should never feel.

Any Jedi. Even Obi Wan. Padme drew in a ragged breath, her hand slipping unconsciously into her pocket to feel the comforting weight of the comlink there. "It may not be as you remember it. Time changes perception," she said to Anakin, trying to force her thoughts away from his Master.

"Sometimes it does," he agreed, and she looked toward him again and realized that he was still staring. "Sometimes for the better."

"It must be difficult having sworn your life to the Jedi," she said rather pointedly. "Not being able to visit the places you like. Or do the things you like."

"Or be with the people I love?" he continued the line of conversation unabashedly, challenging her to redirect him now.

Padme, however, knew more than one way to get her point across. "Are you allowed to love? I thought it was forbidden for a Jedi." As she spoke the words, she felt her heart constrict and her fingers tightened automatically on the comlink in her pocket as her thoughts returned to the Jedi who had given it to her, whose heart she feared for even more than Anakin's.

"Attachment is forbidden," Anakin said, reciting a well learned lesson. "Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi's life, so you might say we're encouraged to love."

Padme regarded him solemnly. "You have changed so much," she remarked, wondering a bit sadly how the innocent boy she knew had grown into this unnervingly stubborn and determined young man. He couldn't be serious. He had to know better than to think the teachings of the Jedi could be twisted to mean what he wanted them to in this instance. His tone was light, which indicated that, on some level, he was playing with words for the sake of debate--but beneath that she still knew that he wanted more. He wanted her.

-----

_"I'm not afraid to die. I've been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life," Padme said somewhere close by. He couldn't see her, only hear the words. He frowned in confusion._

_"What are you talking about?" the voice wasn't his. Familiar, but distorted by the swirling haze of color and shadow around him._

_"I love you…I can't control it... and now I don't care. I truly, deeply love you..." Words he felt he'd waited half his life to hear. Obi Wan raised a hand to shield his eyes, pushing his way forward through the riotous rainbow that blinded him, fighting to reach her before she made what he knew in his deepest soul would be a mistake that destroyed her._

_Finally, he reached them. The strange landscape through which he'd come melted and coalesced into a place he recognized as being in the Naboo Lake Country, though how he knew that he wasn't sure. Padme and Anakin stood with their backs to him, she in a shimmering white gown._

_"Anakin!" he warned sharply. "You will be expelled from the Jedi Order!"_

Obi Wan jerked awake, barking his knee on the table at which he'd been sitting. He grit his teeth and hissed in pain, looking around in confusion. It was several moments before he really registered where he was--the Archives. He'd dozed off in the Archives, he told himself, shaking his head to clear it of the dream images.

Padme's voice still lingered in his ears, tearful and apologetic. _I'm sorry. I didn't mean to deceive you…_

The Master closed his eyes, opening himself further to the cleansing flow of the Force. _Not every dream is a vision_, he reminded himself, emptying his mind of agitation and worry. Padme was on Naboo. He would not serve her by allowing himself to be distracted with needless anxieties. He held himself still, allowing his mind to slip into a light trance, and remained there until he felt peace and balance return to him.

As he opened his eyes again, he felt his gaze suddenly pulled toward the bust of Count Dooku. Frowning, he rose and walked over to it. He had learned long ago to trust the leading of the Force--not to question but simply to wait and observe, watching patiently for the reason behind that leading to make itself apparent. That had been how he'd found himself watching Padme, in her guise as a handmaiden, clean Artoo Detoo ten years ago. Logic would have dictated that he return immediately to his Master. Despite the complexity their relationship had added to his life, he had never regretted following his instinct. Of course, he thought with an ironic smile, he had never hoped she would return his feelings, either.

Then he sighed, realizing where his thoughts had drifted again. What was it he had told Anakin? _Be mindful of your thoughts. They betray you._ Perhaps he would do better to take his own advice. Why was he having so much difficulty focusing now? It wasn't as if his feelings for Padme were any different now than they had been for the last ten years. Was it only because it seemed that _hers_ had begun to change? Why did that matter? It did nothing to alter the reality of their lives. He was a Jedi. She was a member of the Galactic Senate.

_Choose, you must,_ Yoda had said. He had mulled the statement over for some time, but he still felt no closer to any decision. The Jedi Order was his family; he believed deeply in its commitment to serving peace and justice--to serving the will of the Force. Qui-Gon Jinn had taught him that commitment, and even if they had sometimes disagreed as to _how_ it should be carried out, Obi Wan had respected his Master. He had come to see that, at times it could be necessary to take a stand that would put him at odds with his fellow Jedi--even with the Council itself. That principle was an important one, one that it had taken Qui-Gon's death to make Obi Wan truly come to understand. It was an axiom that his teacher had learned from the man whose image Obi Wan was studying now.

By all accounts, Dooku had been a man of deep convictions. He had championed his causes with an intensity perhaps even surpassing Qui-Gon's. Obi Wan found this admirable, but he also recognized that the Count had allowed his political views to become more important to him than the commitment he had made to the Jedi Order. Even Qui-Gon had understood that change could not be affected by severing relationships.

"He has a powerful face, doesn't he?" asked a quiet voice behind him.

Obi Wan turned to see Madame Jocasta Nu, the Jedi Archivist, and nodded in agreement. "I never understood why he quit. Only twenty have ever left the Order," he remarked.

"The Lost Twenty," the Archivist sighed deeply. "And Count Dooku was the most recent and the most painful. No one likes to talk about it. His leaving was a great loss to the Order."

"What happened?" asked Obi Wan curiously.

"Well, one might say he was a bit out of step with the decisions of the Council. Much like your old Master, Qui-Gon," she replied with a touch of affection.

"Really?" Obi Wan knew that much, but he hoped there was more the Archivist could tell him.

"Oh, yes, they were alike in many ways. Very individual thinkers. Idealists. He was always striving to become a more powerful Jedi. He wanted to be the best. With a lightsaber, in the old style of fencing, he had no match. His knowledge of the Force was... unique. In the end, I think he left because he lost faith in the Republic. He believed that politics were corrupt..."

She paused there, turning away from the bust to give Obi Wan a look that seemed to say that Dooku might not be quite so incorrect. He accepted it silently, waiting calmly for her to continue.

"And he felt that the Jedi betrayed themselves by serving the politicians," she said finally. "He always had very high expectations of government. He disappeared for nine or ten years, then just showed up recently as the head of the Separatist movement."

Obi Wan considered as he turned back to the bust. He knew that other Jedi had felt as Dooku apparently did. Qui-Gon had been one of them, and there were times when Obi Wan himself shared that opinion. Yet was it reason enough to break ties with the Order? Were his feelings for Padme? Yet, what other choice did he have?

"I'm still not sure I understand," he said thoughtfully.

"None of us do," agreed Jocasta Nu. Then she gave the younger Jedi a warm look, and he thought again that this woman understood many things she didn't say. "Was there something else on your mind, Master Kenobi? I'm sure you haven't broken off your investigation to come and talk to me about Count Dooku. What's brought you to the Archives?"

Obi Wan took the hint. "I'm trying to find a planet system called Kamino. It doesn't seem to show up on any of the archive charts."

"Kamino? It's not a system I'm familiar with. Let me see," she instructed. Obi Wan led her back to the terminal where he'd been working, and she bent over it to enter a few commands with quick and practiced hands. "Are you sure you have the right coordinates?"

"According to my information, it should be in this quadrant somewhere," said Obi-Wan "Just south of the Rishi Maze."

"But what are the exact coordinates?" she persisted after another series of commands that produced no result.

"I only know the quadrant," Obi-Wan admitted.

"No coordinates? It sounds like the sort of directions you'd get from a street tout--some old miner or furbog trader," she remarked distastefully, straightening to look at him.

"All three, actually," grinned the Master..

"Are you sure it exists?"

"Absolutely."

After running a gravitational scan, though, the Archivist could still find no trace of the system. She came to the conclusion that Obi Wan's information had been faulty, and he knew better than to argue the point. The Archives were her territory. He would have to find another avenue to those after Padme, and he would have to do so quickly. In the end, he decided that he would require another's advice and downloaded what information he had into a hologlobe. Before he left the Archives, though, he gave a last, long, thoughtful look at Count Dooku.

_There is no try, Obi Wan. Only do. Or do not. Choose, you must._


	15. Thoughts and Feelings

Despite her continued anger at the circumstances, there was a relief that came with being home. Her peasant disguise had been discarded, and Anakin, once again attired as a Jedi, escorted her through the grand courtyard of the palace in Theed. The beauty and familiarity of her surroundings lent her a particular sort of peace. She inhaled deeply, glad of the warm sunshine and fresh air, the scent of newly cut grass and the perpetual light perfume of flowers.

"If I grew up here, I don't think I'd ever leave," Anakin remarked enthusiastically.

"I doubt that," Padme laughed.

**"**No, really," he insisted. "When I started my training, I was very homesick and very lonely. This city and my mom were the only pleasant things I had to think about. The problem was, the more I thought about my mom, the worse I felt. But I would feel better if I thought about the palace -- the way it shimmers in the sunlight -- the way the air always smells of flowers... "

**"**...and the soft sound of the distant waterfalls," Padme added without thinking. A half second later, she realized that Anakin had essentially just echoed her own thoughts, and a knot began to form in her stomach. Forcing herself to show no reaction, she continued, "The first time I saw the Capital, I was very young... I'd never seen a waterfall before. I thought they were so beautiful... I never dreamed one day I'd live in the palace."

"Well, tell me, did you dream of power and politics when you were a little girl?" he asked.

"No!" Padme laughed, honestly amused at the notion. "That was the last thing I thought of, but the more history I studied, the more I realized how much good politicians could do. After school, I became a Senatorial advisor with such a passion that, before I knew it, I was elected Queen. For the most part it was because of my conviction that reform was possible. I wasn't the youngest Queen ever elected, but now that I think back on it, I'm not sure I was old enough. I'm not sure I was ready."

"The people you served thought you did a good job. I heard they tried to amend the Constitution so you could stay in office," he told her.

"Popular rule is not democracy, Ani. It gives the people what they want, not what they need," she said firmly, ignoring the attempt at flattery. She smiled indulgently at his naivety, unsure whether it was better or worse than Obi Wan's distrust of politics or politicians. Both were problematic. Anakin might be willing to believe that real change could be effected through political means, but he also seemed likely to make his political choices based on his like or dislike of a candidate rather than on a clear understanding of relevant issues and the consequences of each decision. She knew that Obi Wan trusted _her, _that he admired her commitment to service and shared it in his own way. Still, it bothered her that he was so leery of the political system upon which the Republic was based. He'd told her on more than one occasion that he felt politicians were more inclined to serve the people who funded their campaigns than the interests of their constituents. That might have been true in some cases but not all, and not nearly so many as he professed to believe. He was a Jedi, bound to serve the Republic. She knew he believed in the principles of democracy and peace upon which the Republic had been founded, just as she did. Yet how could he effectively serve a government in which his own confidence often wavered? All these things passed through her mind in an instant, and she almost bit her lip as she realized that her fingers were reaching for the comlink now hidden in a fold of her gown. She let them brush it briefly, but forced herself to focus on the boy beside her, continuing, "And, truthfully, I was relieved when my two terms were up. So were my parents. They worried about me during the blockade and couldn't wait for it all to be over. Actually, I was hoping to have a family by now. My sister has the most amazing, wonderful kids…" she heard herself saying and almost froze. Had she hoped that? There had been no one in her life since Ian Lago, and that relationship had ended when she was elected as Queen. Younglings needed a father--she pulled her hand away from the comlink, cutting off the thought and finishing lamely, "So when the Queen asked me to serve as Senator, I couldn't refuse her."

"I agree! I think the Republic needs you. I'm glad you chose to serve. I feel things are going to happen in our generation that will change the galaxy in profound ways, " Anakin remarked.

"I think so too," Padme said with a bit of uneasiness. She had felt that way for a long time, and the growing Separatist movement, coupled with the impending vote on the Military Creation Act did not ease her mind.

-----

_"_Don't think. _Feel. _Be as one with the Force. Help you, it will," promised Yoda. Obi Wan stood in the entrance to the veranda where the Master was now leading a training exercise with a group of four-year-olds. He smiled, mouthing the words as the ancient Master spoke them. They were the same words he'd heard more than a quarter century ago, when Yoda had led _him_ in this familiar and oddly comforting ritual. This, he told himself, feeling the first real peace that he had since Padme left, was his family. If a Jedi could be said to have a home, this was it--this temple full of its rich heritage that stretched back over a thousand generations. How could he leave it? His place was here--his responsibility was to these people, to Yoda, to Anakin, to a thousand future generations of Jedi Knights. Obi Wan Kenobi had no doubt of this as Yoda's gaze shifted toward him, seeming silently to confirm his thoughts.

"Younglings, enough!" the great Jedi Master commanded. "A visitor, we have. Welcome him."

Twenty training sabers clicked off, and the younglings came to attention, removing their helmets and tucking them under their left arms.

"Master Obi Wan Kenobi," Yoda said gravely. "Meet the mighty Bear Clan."

"Welcome, Master Obi Wan!" the group chorused.

"I am sorry to disturb you, Master," Obi Wan said, offering a bow.

"What help to you, can I be?" inquired Yoda.

Obi Wan took a moment to consider his words, then explained, "I'm looking for a planet described to me by an old friend. I trust him and the information he provided, but the system doesn't show up on the archive maps."

"An interesting puzzle," Yoda mused. "Lost a planet, Master Obi Wan has. How embarrassing... how embarrassing. Liam, the shades. An interesting puzzle. Gather, younglings, around the map reader. Clear your minds and find Obi Wan's wayward planet, we will."

The group moved into a small room adjacent to the veranda, and Obi Wan hung back, waiting by the doorway. Watching the younglings assemble around the reader, he almost chuckled. He could sense both their eagerness to help and the unquestioning, childish belief that they _could_ assist their elders in this task. There was no arrogance in them, no feeling of superiority; it simply did not occur to them that they couldn't find the world he needed.

He moved to place his hologlobe in the reader then stood for a moment, waiting for their initial excitement at the activation to abate. He smiled indulgently as some of them reached up to touch to clusters of stars and planets, then walked into the center of the projection.

"This is where it ought to be," he explained. "Gravity is pulling all the stars in this area inward to this spot. There should be a star here, but there isn't."

"Most interesting. Gravity's silhouette remains, but the star and all its planets have disappeared. How can this be? Now, younglings, in your mind, what is the first thing you see? An answer? A thought? Anyone?" Yoda looked questioningly toward the members of the Bear Clan, seeming to be in total earnest. A hand went up, and Obi Wan hid another smile, waiting to see what lesson that Yoda really had in mind to teach here.

At a nod from the Master, one of the younglings called out, "Because someone erased it from the archive memory."

"That's right! That's what happened! Someone erased it! If the planet blew up, the gravity would go away…" others began to call out in agreement.

Obi Wan stared, regarding the group in complete shock. Yoda only chuckled.

"Truly wonderful, the mind of a child is." Yoda chuckled. "Uncluttered. The data must have been erased."

He started out of the room, and Obi Wan quickly followed, reaching back to pull the hologlobe into his hand through the Force.

"To the center of the pull of gravity go, and find your planet you will," Yoda advised him.

"But Master Yoda, who could have erased information from the Archives? That's impossible, isn't it?" Obi Wan asked uneasily.

"Dangerous and disturbing this puzzle is," Yoda frowned thoughtfully. "Only a Jedi could have erased those files. But who and why, harder to answer. Meditate on this, I will. May the Force be with you."

Obi Wan bowed in acknowledgement and walked briskly off. He moved through the halls at a steady pace, heading toward the landing platform and his waiting starfighter. As he did, he couldn't shake the nagging uneasiness that had begun to prick at him. Everything about this situation struck him as deeply troublesome. Darkness roiled around everything, and the fact that a Jedi had somehow tampered with records connected to Padme's assailants only increased his alarm. The peace he'd felt a few moments ago dissipated, leaving him once again full of half formed fears and feelings that left him sure of nothing but that he needed to solve this mystery quickly.

-----

As they stood waiting outside the throne room, Padme wondered again why she had mentioned something as personal as her family life. Although she always tried to be warm and approachable, she liked to maintain a certain distance from her staff and especially for those responsible for her security. The only exceptions to that rule had ever been her handmaidens--and Obi Wan, but that was…different.

Outside of that very small circle, she scrupulously kept herself "Senator Amidala", extending relationships with anyone who could be construed as involved professionally with the senate only as far as professional concerns and courtesies required. It was true that she had known Anakin for a long time, but her relationship with him had never been that of a peer. She'd come to care for him deeply in the short time that they had known each other on Tatooine, and she had always felt grateful to him for the part he'd played in saving Naboo during the Blockade Crisis. Still, she had only recently started to see him as anything other than the child that she remembered. While she liked the young man he was becoming, he certainly wasn't any sort of confidante. Telling him that her family had been worried about her wasn't too big of a step beyond professional etiquette, but venturing into the area of her own desire for a family denoted a level of intimacy that she knew was inappropriate.

Why had she said that anyway? Why, especially, had she said it to Anakin, knowing that he continued to have a crush on her despite his outward commitment to the Jedi? The last thing she wanted was to lead him on--and honestly, the concept of romantic involvement with a Jedi was troublesome enough in regard to Obi Wan. The relationship could never be made public, never be acknowledged. It would make hypocrites of both of them. There could never be the family life that she had just confided in Anakin that she wanted.

She felt a sudden rush of anger at that thought. There was something intrinsically wrong with the Jedi indictment of marriage. Obi Wan had spent ten years hiding his feelings--worse, trying not to _have_ them--when everything he had ever told her indicated that emotion, not intellect, was the key to a Jedi's connection with the Force. How was he supposed to become "one with the Force" by denying an integral part of his own emotional make-up, divorcing himself from feelings that didn't correspond to some convoluted theological ideal? Every sentient race that Padme had ever encountered had a word for love. Love was part of what meant to be alive. If the Force was present in all living things, if it in some way was both created and responsible for life, how could a Jedi be one with it, understand its will, if he was not allowed to experience love in what was possibly its purest form--if he was not allowed to participate in the kind of love that created and sustained his kind? There had to be some other answer.

He had said something once about strong emotions clouding judgment, and even causing a Jedi to fall to the Dark Side, to become like the Sith. A chill passed through her even at the idea, but she stubbornly held her mental ground. Qui-Gon had been a passionate and deeply caring man, and yet his judgment during the Blockade Crisis had turned out to be sound. He had been willing to defy the Jedi Council to train Ani, and he had shown little regard for her authority as queen, but his commitment to the ideals of the Jedi and the Republic had never wavered. Furthermore, Obi Wan had been in love with her even on Tatooine. That love hadn't clouded his judgment or warped him into something evil. Nor had his filial devotion to Qui-Gon, even after watching a Sith strike his Master down. She didn't see how romantic attachment could be any different, in terms of its ability to skew perceptions or cloud judgment than the fierce and enduring bond that existed between Obi Wan and Qui-Gon.

Two years ago, he had rescued her from another Sith on Devaron. He may have been distracted during that battle, but even with her life directly at risk, he had not allowed anger to gain the better of him. Some may not have been able to discern the difference between love and obsession; some may have allowed sentiment to outweigh duty or passion to rule their actions. Obi Wan Kenobi was not one of them. He could be stubborn and thickheaded. His methods with Anakin may not have always been wise, but he lived as he believed. He was slow to anger, keenly aware of the universe in which he lived, always acted in what he thought was the best interest of their society, and he had never acted with the slightest impropriety toward her in all the years that she had known him.

Even with Anakin, if he made mistakes, they were mistakes motivated by genuine love and concern. He could be stern, but there were times when, at least from his perspective, Anakin's behavior was confounding. Anakin felt he could be closed off and demanding, but he was doing his best to model the Jedi Way, which by nature required both detachment and excellence. Padme knew how deeply he loved Ani, how intensely he felt his Padawan's every success and how often he wished that he could shield the younger Jedi from failure.

_He's a wonderful father already,_ she thought, then let out a little hiss of admonition at herself.

"Something wrong?" Anakin frowned beside her.

"No, not at all," she quickly shook her head.

"You seem a little distracted," he observed.

"No, not at all," she smiled, realizing too late that she had just repeated herself.

He gave her a disbelieving look, to which she returned a raised eyebrow in challenge. He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again, turning as one of Queen Jamillia's handmaidens approached.

"Welcome home, Senator. Her Highness is waiting for you," the young woman said with a smile.

"Thank you," Padme replied with a touch of relief that she hoped would be taken as simple gladness that the wait was over. With a glance toward Anakin, she gestured him to follow and stepped briskly into the throne room.


	16. A Turn In The Road

Anakin was right, Obi Wan decided. He did not like flying. Perhaps he should pass the trip through hyperspace in meditation, he thought. Then his lips turned up in a smile at a sudden flash of memory. Thracia Cho-Leem had convinced the council to send him, along with Anakin, to find her former Padawan, Vergere. Anakin hadn't quite been thirteen when that mission began.

_"Where do you go when you meditate?" Anakin asked as they sat aboard a Republic transport at the start of that mission, disturbing his Master's recently begun meditation._

_"To a state of mind and body where I reacquaint myself with simplicity," Obi Wan replied, smiling affectionately at the question._

_"I don't meditate very often," remarked Anakin, wrinkling his nose._

_"I've noticed," Obi Wan replied dryly, but there was no rebuke hidden in his humor._

_"I get to a certain point and I just overload. It's like I'm plugging into a supernova. Something goes blooey in me. I don't like it," Anakin explained._

The statement had surprised Obi Wan, though he had carefully hidden his reaction, saying casually that they should work on the problem during their journey. It was something that Anakin had never confided in him before, but upon reflection, he realized that he should expected. The boy's midi-chlorian count was far beyond that of any Jedi in the Order--even Master Yoda. Such extreme sensitivity to the Force made it difficult for him to temper himself under ordinary conditions. He was already aware of the Force swirling around him in ways that Obi Wan had never been--often felt pulled in multiple directions and full of an excessive energy that made him restless and impulsive.

At times that impulsiveness was endearing. Later during the same mission, he had come upon Anakin brooding while they waited for Zenoma Sekot to answer their landing request. Obi Wan had chided him lightly, and Anakin responded by wrapping his arms around his Master in a fierce hug that took the Knight completely off guard.

Other times--more times than the Master could count--that impulsiveness led to pain for both of them. Obi Wan keenly felt every mistake Anakin made, more so because his role as Master almost always prevented him from lessening or ending the pain and sorrow of those mistakes, even when he was able. The mission he'd been thinking of, the mission that took them to Zenoma Sekot, had brought him face to face with that reality in a way that he had never been before or since. Thracia had been right in saying that it would do them both good to be sent away from the temple, though. Despite the ordeal that ensued for Anakin, he could not regret the assignment itself. It had been then that he first came to recognize the depth of his connection with his Padawan.

He had been relieved and glad that it had been Thracia who came to counsel Anakin when it was over. Her life experiences gave her a perspective different from any other Jedi he knew; she understood children in a way that the rest could not…

He let out a soft groan and ran a hand over his face. Thracia Cho-Leem had left the Jedi Order. She understood children because her perspective was that of a mother. She had married--more than once, apparently, and had declared to Master Windu that she had many sons and daughters, on many worlds. Obi Wan didn't know the exact circumstances of her decision to leave the Jedi, or her return shortly before she asked the Council to send him to Sekot. He did know that her return was well received. None of the Council had harbored any ill feelings or shown any misgivings about her. She seemed to have a special rapport with Master Windu, who had welcomed her warmly, and that imposing figure was not known to let personal friendships sway his judgment in regard to matters which concerned the good of the Order. She had left again, a few months after he and Anakin returned, offering no explanation. Obi Wan had never spoken to her about Padme; there had seemed no point. Leaving the Order had been beyond the scope of his imagination, and he had told himself that it would serve no purpose to ask Thracia where she stood on the issue of marriage now, since Padme's feelings toward him had been entirely platonic.

_"__Whether Padme loves you or not--what change in your feelings? To hold to your love for Padme or to the teachings of the Jedi. That is your choice, Obi Wan. It matters not if she feels as you do."_

He knew now that Yoda was right. The question was not whether he should marry Padme. It was what--truthfully--was more important to him, his commitment to the way of the Jedi or his undeniable love for her. It had very little to do with whether she loved him in return. Until a few days ago, the possibility never entered his mind. Yet she had always been with him--in him--even when he had convinced himself that the matter was long settled in his heart. The Jedi Code dictated that she could not remain there. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. A few hours before, watching Yoda with the Bear Clan, he had known without a doubt that his place was with the Jedi. Now, here he was again, a mass of contradiction. What else was it that Thracia had said? She'd been talking about Yoda, as he recalled.

_"That big-eared tree stump knows nothing about human children. And for that matter, neither do you. You've never married, Mace! I have… Sometimes I think you should all take a break, as I did, and sniff the real air, see how the Force manifests in everyday life, rather than mope around learning how to swing lightsabers."_

He had expected Master Windu to react with indignation at the very least. Instead, the man's eyes had lit up and he broke into a rare, wide and completely unguarded smile. He felt only gladness that his friend had returned, was honored by her presence, and since the Council had agreed with her assessment that Anakin needed time away from the temple, they obviously had a high regard for her unique perspective.

_Well, unique for a Jedi,_ he amended with a smile.

He had shoved the memory away, refused to even consider the idea, taking refuge in his duties, in his promise to Qui-Gon, in Anakin's dependence on him, because Padme hadn't loved him and he couldn't imagine what he would do with himself, what he would become, utterly alone, apart from both her and the family of the Jedi. He knew himself well enough now to realize that he could, if necessary, be alone. Certainly, he didn't relish the idea, but there was no fear of loneliness in him now. Padme's decision to end their friendship after Devaron had forced him to confront that fear in a way that he had not anticipated. He had been unable to share the pain of that loss with his fellow Jedi, and certainly not with Anakin, who other than Padme herself, had been his closest friend for ten years. As such, he'd had to learn what it meant to be alone in the midst of those he loved.

Now his heart beat faster, and he forced himself to breathe normally. The change he'd sensed in her feelings after the explosion hadn't faded after the moment of crisis passed. If anything, those feelings had been stronger when he'd given her the comlink. She hadn't been frightened or in need of comfort then; she had seen him clearly. There was still conflict in her, as he considered the encounter, turning the memory over in his mind for a closer examination, he thought the turmoil centered not on _him_ but on what he _was_--a Jedi Knight. If he wasn't though…if he took…a break? No. He shook his head, dismissing the notion as quickly as it occurred. The problem with that mindset was that it allowed him to avoid any commitment at all. It might have been enough to say he was leaving the Jedi Order for a time, to consider his options, to adopt a life of solitude, but for him the decision to marry Padme was not one that could be made with a window for "in case."

_"There is no try, Obi Wan. Only do. Or do not. Choose, you must," _Yoda had said, and he was right. The path of Thracia Cho-Leem, constantly shifting between lives, never remaining on a steady course, was not the path that the Force had laid out for Obi Wan Kenobi. If he left the Jedi to marry, he would not be taking a sabbatical, however extended. He would be choosing Padme. He would be her husband. Forever. He could not enter into a life with her and be constantly looking back, constantly thinking of the Jedi as his family and the temple as his real home. A mind and heart so divided would eventually destroy him and probably Padme with him. It would destroy any happiness that married life could have given them. Padme deserved a rich and happy life, with a man who would love her completely. He would be that man--or he would step aside and free both of them. Still, it was comforting to know realize that he would not have to sever ties with the Order the way that Count Dooku had done, that there need be no tension between himself and the people he cared for most.

-----

"This danger you're in. It's about the Military Creation Act," Sola Naberrie asked. It wasn't a question, and Padme only nodded in reply. After her audience with Queen Jamillia, she and Anakin had walked from the palace to her family home. Her father had taken Anakin off to the garden, and Padme now sat on the bench swing with her sister, watching her two nieces play with Artoo nearby.

"The Republic is all in a tumult, but not to fear, for Senator Amidala will put it all aright," Sola said.

Padme's eyes widened and she turned to face her sister. She knew that Sola wished she would have retired at the end of her second term as Naboo's monarch, but the older woman's sarcasm still surprised her.

"That's what you do, right?" Sola asked innocently.

"It's what I try to do," Padme said a bit uncomfortably.

"It's _all _you try to do," Sola corrected.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Padme asked with a confused expression. "I am a Senator, after all."

"A Senator after a Queen, and probably with many more offices ahead of her," Sola said, glancing back at the playhouse to call, "Ryoo, Pooja, ease up!"

"You speak as if it's a bad thing," Padme frowned.

"It's a great thing," Sola disagreed. "If you're doing it all for the right reasons."

"You don't think I am?" asked Padme.

"I think you've convinced yourself that you're indispensable to the Republic," Sola said with a slight shrug. "That they couldn't get along at all without you."

"Sis!" Padme exclaimed in disbelief.

"It's true," Sola insisted. "You give and give and give and give. Don't you ever want to take, just a little?"

"Take what?" Padme asked with a nervous smile.

"Look at them. I see the sparkle in your eyes when you watch my children. I know how much you love them," Sola gestured toward the girls again.

"Of course I do!"

"Wouldn't you like to have children of your own?" Sola asked. "A family of your own?"

Padme felt herself straighten. Her mouth went dry, and there was a sudden tightness in the pit of her stomach. "Are you talking about Ian?" she asked, deflecting the question.

"I don't know," Sola said knowingly. "Am I talking about Ian?"

Padme swallowed. Her brief romance with Ian Lago had ended more than ten years ago when she became Queen of Naboo. Since that time, she hadn't seen him. Nor had there ever been another man in her life. She had always told herself that she was simply too busy. There were too many other concerns demanding her time and attention. It was true--but hadn't there been a moment…?

"What are you running from?" Sola asked candidly.

Feeling her cheeks flush, Padme shook her head, but her sister continued to wait with the expectant air of an older sibling. "I'm not running from anything," she denied.

"I don't think I've ever seen you blush like that," Sola remarked, eyebrow rising.

Padme's hand rose self consciously to her cheek. "I…" she began, swallowing again as she realized suddenly that it was the same cheek his lips had brushed. Two years ago now. "I'm working right now for something I deeply believe in. For something that's important."

"But what about _your _life? What about Padme Amidala? Have you even thought about what might make your life better? Most people who have been in public service as long as you have would have retired by now. I know you get satisfaction in helping other people. That's pretty obvious. But what about something deeper for you? What about love, Sis? And yes, what about having kids? Have you even thought about it? Have you even wondered what it might be like for you to settle down and concern yourself with those things that will make your own life fuller?" Sola asked.

Padme's eyes drifted back to her nieces and she fought a sigh. Obi Wan made her life fuller. His warmth, his humor, his static-filled voice on the other end of a comlink. From that first night on Tatooine, he had been the one person with whom she could be completely unguarded. He challenged her, supported her, made her laugh. He was as committed to serving the Republic as she was. He was a _Jedi Master,_ she reminded herself for what felt like the millionth time since she'd left for Naboo.

_I'm a Jedi--I would have nothing to offer you even if you did love me. I can't marry you, _his quiet statement echoed in her thoughts.

"What if I said yes?" she asked her sister softly.

Sola didn't respond for several heartbeats. Then she let out a long sigh. "Oh, Padme. Not the Padawan."

Padme let out a little laugh. "He's just a boy."

"Have you seen the way he looks at you?" Sola asked skeptically.

Now Padme did sigh. "Anakin's had a crush on me since he was young. There's nothing…our relationship is strictly professional."

"Are you sure that's all it is?" persisted Sola.

"Of course I am," Padme replied more sharply than she'd intended.

Sola raised her hands in a protest of innocence. "Okay, okay. Who then?"

"I…" Padme trailed off.

"It's the other one, then, isn't it? Obi Wan?" her sister asked.

Padme's eyes flew wide. "I--he--we're friends…"

"I was here the time that holomessage came in from him, remember? You ran in from the garden so fast you almost tripped on the carpet. And you grinned for at least an hour afterward." Sola reminded her.

"That was more than five years ago," Padme protested. "He'd been on a mission and I hadn't heard anything in a long time. I was just glad to know he was all right--that they both were."

"And you still know exactly what message I'm talking about after five years," Sola pointed out.

Padme let her gaze drop into her lap. Sola shifted to slip an arm around her shoulders and her vision suddenly blurred with tears. "He can't. And I can't, even if--f the Military Creation Act passes, he'd be at the forefront of a full-scale war--a war I don't believe in…" she trailed off, realizing how lame the argument sounded.

Sola quietly drew her head down on her shoulder. "Do you love him?"

Padme's answer was a simple nod. Sola squeezed her tighter, resting the softness of her cheek against her hair and let her cry.


	17. Destinations

Arfour tootled quietly, alerting him that they were exiting hyperspace. Obi Wan blinked, slightly surprised at how quickly the trip had passed. He realized with a faint sigh that, rather than meditating, he had spent the journey lost in thoughts of Padme. _Well, _he reflected ruefully, _at least I know what I don't want to do. _Then he quickly pushed all such thoughts from his mind, regaining his focus as the tunnel of starlight around him became again a sea of blackness pricked by pinpoints of white. As soon as they re-entered normal space, he spotted the planet they had come to find.

"There it is, Arfour, right where it should be," he remarked. "Our missing planet, Kamino. Those files _were_ altered.

The droid gave an interrogative beep.

"I have no idea who might have done it. Maybe we'll find some answers down there. Disengage the hyperspace ring," he added.

As he guided the ship closer, a transmission came in requesting identification, and he flicked on his signal beacon. After a few moments of wait, whoever was on the ground--well--if there was ground at all, considering that Kamino appeared to be an ocean world--replied with coordinates for someplace called Tipoca City.

"Well, here we go, Arfour, time to find some answers," he said.

He made a pass over the city and gave a soft sigh at it's stunning beauty. "There's so much to see, Arfour," he murmured a bit sadly. No matter how many worlds the Jedi Master had visited, he knew that there would always be more--too many for one man to visit in a lifetime.

Finally, though, he set the fighter down. An almost torrential rain was falling, and he took a moment to pull up his hood, though he didn't think it would do much to spare him. Then the Jedi scrambled out of the fighter, moving quickly across the permacrete toward a nearby tower.

The door slid open as he approached and he rushed inside, finding the entire place bathed a brilliant white light. Beside him, a slender white being, taller than himself, waited to greet him, and a voice intoned melodically.

"Welcome to Kamino…"

Obi Wan pushed back his drenched hood and ran a hand through his hair, which was now plastered to his head and badly dripping. _Well,_ he told himself, _I hope they don't mind guests dripping on the furniture._ He wiped his face and turned toward the speaker.

"Master Jedi, so good to see you," the Kaminoan said.

Obi Wan paused, caught off guard by the warmth of the welcome. The statement seemed to indicate that he was a known quantity here. He decided to wait, letting the conversation take its own course rather than say anything that could betray his confusion.

"I am Taun We," she continued. "The Prime Minister expects you."

"Excuse me? I'm expected?" he asked, now not quite able to hide his surprise.

"Of course," Taun We replied. "Lama Su is anxious to see you. After all these years, we were beginning to think you weren't coming. Now please, this way."

-----

"You can see the mountains in the water," Anakin remarked, grinning as he and Padme stood on a terrace at the retreat house.

"Of course," she replied, not turning away from the lake. He was staring at her again, but she kept her voice casual and firmly didn't look. She had begun to wonder if she should have said something to Obi Wan before leaving Coruscant. She didn't want to hurt or embarrass Anakin, but his behavior was a reflection on the Jedi Order as a whole, and if she had been anyone else, his persistence would have caused a problem by now. She knew of several other senators who would have been thoroughly outraged.

"It seems an obvious thing to you, but where I grew up, there weren't any lakes. Whenever I see this much water, every detail of it…" he trailed off, unable to verbalize his feelings.

"Amazes you?" she supplied.

"And pleases me," he added smiling.

"I guess it's hard to hold on to appreciation for some things," she admitted. "But after all these years, I still see the beauty of the mountains reflected in the water. I could stare at them all day, every day."

As she spoke, he moved up beside her at the balustrade. He leaned close, inhaling deeply, and she quickly sidestepped to put some more distance between them. Carefully maintaining the same tone as before, she related, "When I was in Level Three, we used to come here for school retreat. See that island?" she added, pointing. "We used to swim there every day. I love the water."

"I do, too. I guess it comes from growing up on a desert planet," said Anakin.

She could feel his eyes on her again, but she pointedly did not acknowledge the stare. "We used to lie on the sand and let the sun dry us... and try to guess the names of the birds singing."

"I don't like the sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating. And it gets everywhere," Anakin's tone shifted.

Surprised, Padme turned to give him a questioning look.

"Not here. It's like that on Tatooine--everything's like that on Tatooine. But here, everything's soft, and smooth," he said, his voice becoming once again suggestive. He reached out as he finished speaking, stroked her arm.

Restraining the urge to jerk away, Padme covered his hand with his, firmly but kindly halting the motion. "Ani. You don't know me," she said, filling her voice with as much affection and sympathy as she could.

He looked back at her, eyes widening in confusion, and he swallowed hard. "I've dreamt of you every night since I met you," he confessed.

"But you don't know anything about me. Dreams aren't real," she reminded him quietly and calmly.

"Sometimes, when you believe something to be real, it becomes real," he persisted.

"Sometimes it doesn't," she responded, letting her hand drop away from his. "I'm a fantasy to you. Something you've built up in your mind since you were little."

He lowered his gaze, finally starting to understand. "You were the only beauty there ever was in my childhood…besides my mother."

Padme felt tears prick her eyes at the statement. He had been through so much. The last thing she wanted was to cause him more pain. She also knew that she couldn't allow the situation to continue as it was, and the words he'd just spoken voiced the heart of the problem. His feelings were so convoluted when it came to her. As beautiful as he thought she was, as much as her arrival on Tatooine had changed things for him, and as deeply as both of them had cared for each other during his childhood, she had also been, in many ways, a substitute for Shmi.

"Ani, look at me," she said softly.

Reluctantly, he raised his eyes. "Please don't tell me my feelings aren't real, Padme," he pleaded earnestly.

"Do you remember what I told you on the flight back to Coruscant?" she asked gently. "The night you saw me crying?"

"That many things would change, but your caring for me would not be one of them," he nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I meant it," she promised. "I will always care for you, Anakin."

-----

It was only the discipline of his Jedi training that kept Obi Wan in control of his own revulsion. He had finished his tour of the cloning facility with Lama Su, the Kaminoan Prime Minister, and come face to face with an army of clones. That army had apparently been commissioned by a Jedi Master, Sifo-Dyas, who had intended for the army to be commanded by the Jedi Order. It was this notion, more than any other, that galled him. Master Yoda must have had no knowledge of this--if he had, he would not have let Obi Wan come to Kamino without first preparing him. This indicated that Sifo-Dyas had acted alone. Why? Furthermore, how had he justified his actions? These clones, despite the Kaminoans' obvious view of them as simply products, were living beings. Their genetic structure had been altered to make them less independent, their growth had been accelerated, effectively stealing half their childhood and adolescence, yet the Kaminoans asserted that they were perfectly stable and fit to serve as a fighting Force. This raised a whole host of questions, both ethical and psychological, but the primary one remained--_how_ could a Jedi, who was trained to have a profound respect for all life, justify the act of manufacturing an _army_ of beings who would be conditioned to serve as gun fodder?

He felt some measure of relief that the original host was a bounty hunter and not a Jedi as the Kaminoans had seemingly wanted. The notion of an army of clones so strong in the Force was beyond his ability to imagine. The implications would have been staggering. In any case, learning that the host, a man named Jango Fett, actually lived on Kamino had brought Obi Wan's mind quickly back to the real reason for his visit. Now he stood waiting with Taun We outside the door of the bounty hunter's apartment.

The door slid open, revealing not Jango but a young boy, identical to those he had seen earlier in the classroom. This one, he knew from his earlier discussion with Lama Su, was different. His genetic structure had not been altered, nor had he been subjected to growth acceleration.

"Boba. Is your father home?" Taun We asked, her tone familiar and comfortable, as if she was well acquainted with the boy and this was not unusual.

Boba Fett stared hard at Obi Wan, but finally agreed. "Yep."

"May we see him?"

"Sure," Boba replied, stepping back. His eyes remained steadily on Obi Wan as he and Taun We moved inside.

"Dad!" Boba yelled. "Dad, Taun We's here!"

Obi Wan felt some surprise at the title. He had assumed that the bounty hunter's interest in an unaltered duplicate had to do with some possibility of financial gain, or if not a rather callous attempt to secure some sort of immortality for himself, given his dangerous occupation. However, Boba's suspicion of him was laced with real concern for Jango, whom he regarded as a father.

Jango walked in from the bedroom, regarding Obi Wan with obvious suspicion. The Jedi looked calmly back, showing none of the intense emotion that surged through him at the sight of the man. This was the killer who'd been hired to murder Padme--who had almost succeeded on the landing pad. Obi Wan's lightsaber could have been in his hand in a moment. Here, like this, Fett would be unprepared--the Kaminoans would expect nothing. He would be dead before any of them could react. With a breath, the Master rejected such thoughts, expelling them from his mind and re-focusing his energy on a careful study of the man. There was information to be gained from Jango Fett. More importantly, a Jedi did not strike an adversary in cold blood, and Obi Wan would not kill a man in front of his own son.

"Welcome back, Jango," Taun We said. "Was your trip productive?"

Obi Wan stared coldly at the bounty hunter, letting him know that he understood exactly what that that trip had involved.

"Fairly," replied Jango in a casual tone that seemed somehow to mock the Jedi. Then he narrowed his eyes, returning the look that Obi Wan leveled at him in a veiled challenge.

Even Taun We could feel the tension between them, but Obi Wan did not care. "This is Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi," she said, keeping her voice light in attempt to alter the suddenly uncomfortable atmosphere.

"That right?" asked Jango indifferently.

"Your clones are very impressive," Obi Wan said. "You must be very proud."

"I'm just a simple man trying to make my way in the universe, Master Jedi," the bounty hunter told him, the words laced with hidden meaning and a distinct impression of laughter.

"Aren't we all?" Obi Wan let his eyes slide toward the bedroom that Jango had just exited, where he could see several very distinctive pieces of armor.

Fett shifted to block his view.

"Ever make your way as far into the interior as Coruscant?" Obi Wan asked bluntly.

"Once or twice."

"Recently?" fired Obi Wan.

"Possibly," allowed the bounty hunter.

"Then you must know Master Sifo-Dyas," Obi Wan shifted the topic, both hoping to gain a bit of understanding and keep the conversation at least reasonably within the Kaminoan's expectations. He also subtly moved his head, trying to get a better look inside the bedroom.

"Boba, close the door," Jango ordered in Huttese. Boba quickly obeyed, and the bounty hunter finally moved aside. "Master who?"

"Sifo-Dyas. Isn't he the one who hired you for this job?"

"Never heard of him," Jango replied.

"Really?" Obi Wan was honestly surprised. There seemed to be no deceit in Jango's statement; he had no reason to lie about who had hired him for the cloning project.

"I was recruited by a man called Tyranus on one of the moons of Bogden," he explained.

"Curious…" the Jedi murmured, glancing down in thought. Just when it seemed that he was beginning to piece this mystery together, new information surfaced. Who in the galaxy was this Tyranus?

"Do you like your army?" Jango asked, pulling him back from his thoughts.

"I look forward to seeing them in action," Obi Wan replied.

The two men stared at one another again, the hostility between them almost crackling through the air now. Jango finally smiled--a very predatory smile, Obi Wan thought. "They'll do their job well. I'll guarantee that," he said.

"Like their source?"

Fett continued to smile.

"Thanks for your time, Jango," Obi-Wan said turning to Taun We.

They started for the door, and the bounty hunter replied with words like a well placed dart, so smooth the threat went unrealized until it had been delivered and the poison released. "Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi."


	18. Even In Dreams

_Padme closed her eyes, inhaling deeply of the fragrant meadow. The sun was warm on her bare shoulders, and his head was in her lap. His eyes were closed, but she didn't think he was sleeping--not quite. Grinning mischievously, she plucked a flower and dangled it over his face, letting the petals touch just enough to tickle._

_"You don't want to go ride a Shaak, do you?" he asked without opening his eyes._

_"I should never have told you about that," she shook her head._

_"No, you really shouldn't have. I'll tease you forever," he replied._

_She gave a deep, contented sigh. "The whole time I was here with Ani, I kept thinking of you. Wondering where you were, wishing…"_

_His eyes popped open, and he reached up to take her hand, suddenly serious. "I'm here now. And I'm not leaving. Ever."_

_"I know," she smiled, bending to kiss his lips. A moment later, she pulled back, giggling a little._

_"What?" he asked with a puzzled look._

_"Your beard tickles," she told him._

_"Does it?" he broke into a grin. "I'm sorry."_

_"It's all right…" she started to say when a fat raindrop plunked down onto his forehead. Startled, she craned her neck to look up at the sky. "I don't believe it!"_

_He rolled over, scrambling to his feet. "That's always how it is," he said, grabbing her hands to pull her up with him. As he did, a torrential rain swept over them, drenching them in seconds. She caught sight of a landing platform nearby, where a young boy and a man in strange armor were boarding a ship._

_"Padme, get in the ship!" Obi Wan ordered sharply. He broke away to run toward the platform, lightsaber suddenly in hand._

_"What?" she looked around in confusion. "What ship? Obi Wan, what's going on?"_

_He didn't answer, and she stood watching in horror as he clashed with the armored man. They were punching and kicking, even throwing each other while she looked on, entirely unable to help him. Finally, he grabbed the man, who retaliated by engaging a rocket pack in the back of his armor, carrying them both up onto the hull of the ship._

_Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the rain ended. The ship disappeared, and the air around them grew dry and red with volcanic heat. The stranger's armor changed too, becoming black and ominous. He moved with a menacing grace and wielded a red lightsaber, but beneath the black helmet she could still recognize him._

_"Anakin!" she cried as blue and red lightsabers crackled against one another. "Anakin, stop! Please!"_

_"Run!" she heard, though Obi Wan hadn't spoken. "Run, Luke!"_

_"I'm not leaving you!" she insisted._

_He turned to face her, shouting again, "Padme, get to the ship!" _

_And the red blade struck--_

_"Ben!" she heard herself scream, tears streaming down her cheeks._

_Anakin caught sight of her as the body vanished. He came toward her with a menacing stride, black cloak billowing behind him as he moved, but as he reached her, the lightsaber in his hand clicked off. He reached up casually to pull off the helmet, and smiled._

_"Don't worry, Padme. I'm here to rescue you. I am the Chosen One."_

_"You killed him, Anakin!" she screamed again, violently shaking her head. "You killed your father!"_

"NO! No, Mom, no!" Padme heard as she came awake. She bolted upright, barely managing to stifle another scream, and raised her hands to her cheeks. As she touched them, she realized that she was crying. She was crying and she couldn't stop, the scalding tears continuing to pour down her face.

_"I'm here now. And I'm not leaving. Ever."_

She fell back against the pillow and pulled the blankets tighter around her. In the next room, she could still hear Anakin lost in his own nightmare and shuddered. Her hand slipped under the pillow for the comlink, and as her fingers curled around it, she tried again to stifle her sobs, longing for Obi Wan's arms around her the way they had been on the way back from Tatooine.

_Anakin killed him. Anakin killed him because of me,_ she thought. _But it was just a dream. It wasn't real._

She shook her head against the now tear stained pillow, listening to Anakin thrash and call out for Shmi. She had seen the way he looked at her, everyone had seen it. They would destroy themselves over her--both of them--and she couldn't let them.

_I love you. Always have…_

_No, Mom, no!_

_I'm not leaving. _

But he had.

_I'm not leaving. Ever._

-----

Obi Wan stepped out of the tower into the continuing gale. He glanced back once to make sure that Lama Su had left, then moved to the ship. Pulling his robe tighter, he said quietly, "Arfour."

The droid came awake at his voice, beeping a greeting.

"Arfour, relay this, scramble code five, to Courscant: care of the old folks home," he instructed.

Arfour beeped again, and whistled an affirmative. The transmitter disk emerged from the top of the fighter, and the Jedi took a moment to collect his thoughts. Masters Yoda and Windu were in Yoda's quarters and took the call there.

"Masters, I have successfully made contact with the Prime Minister of Kamino," Obi Wan began.

"Ah, good it is that your planet you have found," Yoda said.

"Right where your students predicted," Obi Wan told the elder. "These Kaminoans are cloners--best in the galaxy I've been told, and from what I've seen, I don't doubt the claims. They are using a bounty hunter named Jango Fett to create a clone army."

"An army?" Windu questioned.

"For the Republic," explained Obi Wan He paused for a second, considering his words carefully. He knew without doubt that Jango Fett was responsible for the threat to Padme. He also realized that he could not explain that knowledge fully to Master Windu. Not yet. "What's more, I have a strong feeling that this bounty hunter is behind the plot to assassinate Senator Amidala," he said finally.

"Do you think these cloners are involved in that, as well?" inquired Windu.

"No, Master, there appears to be no motive," replied Obi Wan without hesitation.

"Do not assume anything, Obi Wan," Yoda advised suddenly, his words ringing with layers of unspoken meaning as he continued. "Clear, your mind must be if you are to discover the real villain behind this plot."

"Yes, Master," Obi Wan said. "Prime Minister Lama Su has informed me that the first battalion of clone troopers are ready for delivery. He also wanted me to remind you that if we require more--and they've another million well on the way to completion--it will take more time to grow them."

"A million clone warriors?" Windu asked incredulously.

"Yes, Master. They say Master Sifo-Dyas placed the order for the clone army almost ten years ago. I was under the impression he was killed before that. Did the Council ever authorize the creation of a clone army?"

"No," Mace answered without hesitation, and without even looking to Yoda. "Whoever placed that order did not have the authorization of the Jedi Council."

"Then how? And why?"

"The mystery deepens," Windu said. "And it is one that needs unraveling, for more reasons than the safety of Senator Amidala."

"The clones are impressive, Master," Obi Wan told him. "They have been created and trained for one purpose alone."

"Into custody, take this Jango Fett," Yoda instructed. "Bring him here. Question him, we will."

"Yes, Master. I will report back when I have him," Obi Wan said, glancing at Arfour to indicate an end to the transmission.

-----

She found Anakin on the east balcony at sunrise, so deep in his morning meditations that he seemed not to notice her. He was utterly still, but there was an air of intensity around him, a palpable energy. Padme could almost feel it crackle through the air between them. The echo of lightsabers sounded in her ears and she took a breath, turning away.

"Don't go," he called.

"I don't want to disturb you," she said nervously.

"Your presence is soothing," he told her.

Padme paused, then looked at him again. She hadn't lied when she told him that she still cared. He may not have been the boy she knew, but he was still her friend, and obviously in need. It was silly to let a dream frighten her, silly to let a manifestation of private fears keep her from helping him. That was all it had been, she decided. She was afraid for Obi Wan, afraid of what a relationship with her would do to him, and Anakin had become her mind's incarnation of those fears. He was a Jedi; Obi Wan was his teacher and friend. They loved one another too deeply for petty jealousy to destroy their bond. She walked up to him, waiting for him to open his eyes.

"You had a nightmare again last night," she said when he did.

"Jedi don't have nightmares," he insisted.

"I heard you," she said flatly.

"I saw my mother," he admitted, lowering his gaze. "I saw her as clearly as I see you now. She is suffering, Padme. They're killing her! She is in pain!"

"Who?" she asked, putting a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

He didn't answer the question, but turned to her with a look of both determination and regret. "I know I'm disobeying my mandate to protect you. I know I will be punished and possibly thrown out of the Jedi Order, but I have to go."

"Go?" she asked, confused.

"I have to help her! I'm sorry, Padme, I don't have a choice," he apologized.

"Of course you don't. Not if your mother is in trouble," she nodded in understanding. If it had been her family--her parents, or Sola, or her nieces, she knew that nothing could have kept her here.

He nodded appreciatively.

"I'll go with you," she decided impulsively.

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to protest. With a disarming smile, she ended his objections before they started. She didn't really know if it would help keep him out of trouble or not, but she understood his commitment to his family. As far as she was concerned, that commitment was every bit as important as the one he had made to the Jedi Order.

"That way, you can continue to protect me," she said. "And you won't be disobeying your mandate."

"I don't think this is what the Jedi Council had in mind. I fear that I'm walking into danger, and to take you with me--"

"Walking into danger," Padme cut him off laughing. "A place I've never been before."

He stared at her in disbelief. "What about Master Obi Wan?" he asked.

"Well, I guess we won't tell him, will we?" she replied. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that they had been a mistake. She had only meant that, knowing his attitude toward duty and the fact that he had distinctly ordered Anakin to stay on Naboo, there was no way that she would be able to convince Obi Wan not to discipline him. The Jedi were his family; he wouldn't understand the attachment that Anakin still had to his mother. She might be able to soften the punishment if Obi Wan discovered that they'd done this, but she certainly couldn't stop it, and so it would be best if he simply never found out. Anakin, though, began to look at her with rekindled hope.

"I guess I'd better change my clothes," she remarked, keeping her tone casual.

He nodded again, then added sincerely, "Thank you, Padme."

"You're welcome," she said, then quickly walked back to her room.

As soon as the door was closed behind her, she dashed for the bed, shoving her hand back under the pillow to take out the comlink. She stared down at it for a long moment, wondering just how far the little transmitter's range extended. Then she drew in a breath and let it out again.

"I hope I'm not going to need another rescue," she murmured.


	19. Undivided

As Obi Wan and Arfour waited atop the asteroid for Jango Fett's ship to move far enough away, the Jedi's thoughts were elsewhere. He couldn't dismiss the feeling that something was wrong with Padme and Anakin. He scowled at himself, working to clear his mind. He had already failed once when Fett escaped Kamino. Perhaps the Force had led him here in the long run, but he knew that there was more than one way for its purposes to be accomplished, and this path had been both dangerous and unnecessary. The best course would have been for him to bring Fett back to the temple and let the Council question him. Whatever lay on Geonosis, Obi Wan sensed darkness and confusion. He should not have been here alone, and now that he had to be, he needed focus.

They pulled at him, regardless. They were the two people that he cared for most in all the galaxy--his brother and the woman he loved. For a change, though, he didn't feel pulled in two directions by them. Something was wrong--very wrong. It took all his discipline not to lift off now and set course for Naboo. To do that, though would have been a disservice to both of them.

_Aren't you already doing them a disservice?_ he asked himself suddenly. _Trying to teach Anakin to let go of his feelings when you won't do the same? Holding out your love to Padme and then pulling it back when she wants it--hiding in the robes of a Jedi?_

_The hardest thing I've ever had to do was to leave Shmi behind,_ Qui-Gon's admission came back to him.

"Yes, Master, I know," he said aloud. "And maybe you shouldn't have."

He drew in a breath, centered himself. Drawing on the Force, he called his mind into focus, forced his attention back to the present--to the planet below, to Jango Fett and his employers.

"Arfour, I think we've waited long enough," he said.

-----

Restless, Padme paced the dark courtyard. After finding Watto outside his shop in Mos Espa, she and Anakin had flown here, to a small moisture farm beyond Mos Eisley, where they'd finally learned what had happened to Shmi. He'd ridden out on Owen's speeder bike hours ago, but there was no sign yet. An animal howled ominously in the distance, and she shivered, glancing toward the garage, but she didn't go inside.

Beru slipped out from the house, carrying a steaming mug in one hand and a blanket over her other arm. Padme smiled wanly as she approached, then took the mug and nodded her thanks as the young woman silently slipped the blanket over her shoulders. Neither spoke for a while, and Padme sipped the hot beverage, studying Beru thoughtfully.

She wasn't beautiful in a classic sense, but she couldn't be called plain. From what Padme had seen of her, she was quiet, but it was a quietness much like Shmi Skywalker's. She wasn't timid or afraid to speak her mind, she simply spoke when she needed to and was content to let others do the talking when she didn't. There was a kind of strength in her that Padme admired, different from herself and perhaps more enduring--but the Senator could already see a careworn edge around the young homesteader, and she wondered if life on Tatooine would be as unkind to this woman as it had been to Shmi.

Beru looked back at her calmly, waiting for her to speak. Padme took another sip, more to gather her thoughts than for the added warmth, and then asked, "Was she happy here?"

"Yes. It's not an easy life. The farm will never have much of a surplus. But Cliegg is a good man, and he loved her very much. She loved him and Owen too. Tatooine breeds love as much as hardship," Beru said.

"I met-- my best friend on Tatooine," Padme corrected herself hurriedly.

Beru gave her a knowing smile and shook her head. "So I heard."

Padme's eyes widened. "What?"

"There's not a lot to do here at night besides tell stories. You and that Padawan were a good one. Falling in love over a comlink--right under Qui-Gon's nose and he had no idea," Beru laughed.

"Shmi _knew?_" Padme asked incredulously.

"Shmi knew lots of things she never talked about," Beru smiled.

Padme sighed with a mixture of resignation and relief. Then she reached into her pocket to pull out the comlink. "I shouldn't be thinking about him now," she said as she stared down at it. "Ani's in real danger, and Shmi…"

"Thoughts go where they will," Beru said, slipping a hand quietly onto her shoulder. "Do you think something's wrong?"

"I don't know. I've been having strange dreams…I guess it's just that," Padme shrugged.

"Is it?" Beru asked softly.

Padme's gaze drifted toward the house where Cliegg Lars still sat waiting for his wife. "We were alone together when he gave me this," she said, her fingers tightening around the comlink. "I wish I'd told him then. I want him to know."

"I hope you'll have another chance," Beru replied.

"So do I," Padme said with a heavy sigh.

The hand on her shoulder slid comfortingly around her. Padme stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into the unexpected embrace. Beru looked off into the night sky for a while, lost in her own thoughts.

"What's it like there?" she asked finally.

Padme pulled back to look at her in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

"On Naboo," the other woman explained. "What's it like?"

"Oh, it's…" Padme trailed off, trying to gather words to illustrate the stark contrast between her homeworld and this one. "Very green. With lots of water. And trees. Not like here at all."

"I think I like it here better," Beru remarked.

"Maybe you'll come and see it someday," Padme smiled.

"I don't think so. I don't like to travel," Beru said honestly.

Padme nodded, accepting the statement for what it was--a simple, quiet truth. There was no rejection or impoliteness in Beru's tone. Nor, Padme thought, was there a fear of the unknown. Beru Whitesun had found the place where she belonged, and having found it, wanted nothing more than to remain there. She knew the dangers of the life she lived, and she was not afraid to face them--because this was her place, and inside the house was a moisture farmer who loved her. They had a peace which had nothing to do with what happened around them. It couldn't be changed or broken by Tusken Raiders, Galactic armies, or even the Jedi Order.

"Do Senators get to make pleasure visits?" Beru asked.

"Not very often," Padme replied a bit sadly.

Beru nodded. "Well, if you ever can come, you'll be welcome, Padme."

"Thanks, Beru."

-----

Obi Wan slumped back in his seat, letting out a breath in frustration. "The transmitter is working, But we're not receiving a return signal. Coruscant's too far. Can you boost the power?" he asked Arfour.

The droid made a series of beeps, which started uncertain, and then became decidedly negative. Obi Wan closed his eyes. Despite everything he had just witnessed in the factory city, there was much to learn. He couldn't leave yet. Nor could he return and risk capture without first assuring that the information he now had would reach Coruscant, whether he did or not.

"Okay, then we'll have to try something else," the Jedi said, looking around for an answer. Lifting off the planet risked detection, presenting him with the same problem as returning to the droid city now. There was no way that Arfour could increase their signal enough to reach Coruscant through the heavy metallic atmosphere of Geonosis, but perhaps there was another way. "Naboo is closer. Maybe we can contact Anakin and get the information relayed."

The droid beeped affirmatively, and he climbed back out of the cockpit again. After a few moments, Arfour told him Anakin wasn't there. Growling in frustration, the Jedi made his way _back_ into the ship. This delay was costing precious time and he knew it. The longer it took to transmit the message, the more likely it was that the com signal itself would be detected and his position triangulated.

"How can he not be on Naboo?" he demanded of Arfour.

The droid replied with a nervous and uncertain, "Oooooo."

Recalling his earlier sense that something was wrong, Obi Wan ran a hand through his hair and began to check the instruments himself. "Anakin? Anakin? Do you copy? This is Obi Wan Kenobi," he said, lifting his ship com directly and shooting the call out toward Naboo. No answer came, though, and finally, he set the com down. Fear began to creep up the Jedi's spine, but he forced himself to concentrate. Still, he couldn't keep the worry from his tone as he said, "He's not on Naboo, Arfour. I'm going to try to widen the search. I hope nothing's happened to them."

Minutes crawled by. He waited, trying to slow his pounding heart. Inexplicably, he found himself thinking of the comlink he'd given Padme, of his own ridiculous level of nervous anticipation as he waited for her call from Mos Espa. Then he scowled at himself and shook his head. There was a droid army sitting nearby, of which the Trade Federation was set to take delivery. The Trade Federation was known to be allied with Count Dooku's Separatists, and now both the Commerce Guild and the Corporate Alliance had pledged _their _armies to Dooku as well. There was a _clone_ army on Kamino, ready and waiting for the Republic, apparently commissioned some ten years ago by a Jedi Master. These things could not be coincidental, which was more disturbing to him than the very real fact that the stage had been set for a drawn out military conflict. Yet here he sat lost in nostalgia, his mind anywhere but on the present. He shook his head, wondering what exactly had happened to him--how and when his every thought had begun drifting back to Padme Amidala.

_Ten years ago,_ he realized with sudden certainty. Everything went back to her. To her voice on the other end of a comlink. It always had--it always would--because everything before that had led him to Tatooine. To her.

Suddenly, Arfour tootled, startling him out of his contemplations. He leaned forward, eyes moving over the com controls, widening as he realized where they were. "That's Anakin's tracking signal all right, but it's coming from Tatooine! What in the blazes is he doing there? I told him to stay on Naboo!"

The droid gave another nervous "Ooooooo."

"All right, we're all set--we'll get these answers later." The Jedi climbed out of the cockpit again and leapt to the ground. "Transmit, Arfour. We haven't much time… Anakin?" Obi Wan asked. "Anakin, do you copy? This is Obi Wan Kenobi."

-----

"We will deal with Count Dooku," Mace Windu said firmly. "The most important thing for you, Anakin, is to stay where you are. Protect the Senator at all costs. That is your first priority."

"Understood, Master," Anakin replied dully. Still in the throes of his guilt and grief over his mother, the Padawan seemed to have lost all his determination and confidence.

Padme stood rooted to the floor, looking on in disbelief as the hologram flickered off. Her throat was tight with dread, and she stared at him, then tore herself toward the control console, forced her icy hands to stop shaking so that she could manipulate the switches as she checked coordinates. Everything was so cold!

"They have to come halfway across the galaxy," she said, turning to Anakin, who still stood impassively. "They'll never get there in time to save him."

He didn't move. Didn't react at all.

"Look, Geonosis is less than a parsec away!" she cried, her hands moving over the controls again to show him the nav display. "Anakin?!"

"You heard him," the Padawan said flatly.

"They can't get from Coruscant in time to save him!" she exclaimed, her voice almost breaking in desperation. She didn't bother waiting for a response, just turned back to the ship's controls, readying the ship for liftoff.

Suddenly, Anakin's hand covered hers in silent command to stop. She violently shrugged him off, barely managing to restrain the urge to slap him now. Instead, she leveled a harsh, disbelieving stare.

His voice came back toneless, devoid off all emotion. "If he's still alive," he said.

"He's alive!" she told him fiercely. "I know he's alive."

He turned and walked away without a word. She glared at his back, angry now beyond even tears. Finally, strode after him, grabbing his arm and yanking him around to face her. "Are you just going to sit here and let him die? He's your friend--your mentor!

Finally, this brought a real reaction. "He is like my father! But you heard Master Windu! He gave me strict orders to _stay here!"_

""He gave you strict orders to stay here only so that you could protect _me!" _Padme said furiously, whirling back around. She finished the launch sequence, ignoring him now, not caring if he tried to stop her.

"Padme!" he cried.

"He gave you strict orders to protect me," she repeated, giving her voice a coldly determined edge. "And I'm going to rescue Obi Wan. So if you plan to protect me, you'll have to come along."


	20. Bound

"Obi Wan!" he heard as Padme and Anakin were roughly hauled out of a cart and dragged over to be chained on the posts beside him. His heart pounded faster. He couldn't truthfully say that he was _surprised_ to see her and Anakin. He had _hoped_ that one of them would be sensible enough to talk the other out of a rescue attempt--but he hadn't particularly expected it. Still, the thought of her here, mauled to death by monsters, broke his already fragile focus--and Obi Wan needed focus badly.

_Don't center on your fears…_

He took a breath. "Hello, Senator Amidala," he called back, keeping his tone casual.

"Obi--" she began. Then both he and Anakin winced at the rough treatment their captors were giving her. She shifted, curling her body into a defensive crouch, but he held back a smile, suspecting that it was something more.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had gotten my message," he remarked.

"I retransmitted your message just as you requested, Master," Anakin replied with forced cheerfulness. "Then we decided to come and rescue you."

"Good job!" he shot sardonically.

"Obi Wan, I have to tell you--" Padme broke off with a cry of pain as their arms were jerked upward and locked in place.

"What?" he called. The cart that had delivered Padme and Anakin rolled off again, and the waiting crowd roared happily at the arrival of their hosts for this gruesome affair--Poggle the Lesser, Archduke of Geonosis, Count Dooku, Nute Gunray, and the Fetts. Whatever she'd been trying to say was drowned out by the applause.

Then an announcement began. "The felons before you have been convicted of espionage against the Sovereign System of Geonosis. Their sentence of death is to be carried out in this arena immediately!"

In the wake of more thunderous applause, Obi Wan commented dryly, "They like their executions."

"Did you hear what I said???" Padme yelled.

"Sorry, must have missed it…" he replied, raising an eyebrow at the irritation in her tone.

"Well, maybe you should shut up for a minute!" she shouted as Poggle the Lesser raised his hands in the dignitary box and the crowd hushed.

"Excuse me??" the Jedi shot back.

Again, her response was cut off, this time by the Archduke, who began, "I have decided on an especially entertaining contest this day. Which of our pets would be most suited to carry out the executions of such distinguished criminals? I asked myself this over and over, and for many hours, could find no answer. And finally, I chose--"

"Never mind. I--" attempted Padme.

"The reek!" At this the crowd cheered again, and a gate was lifted to release a huge quadruped with massive shoulders, an elongated face, and three deadly horns, one sticking up from its snout and the other two protruding forward from either side of its wide mouth. The process was repeated for the nexu, which had a head half the size of its body and a fang-filled mouth that could open wide enough to bite a human in half. A ridge of fur stood straight in a line from head to rump, ending right before its whipping, feline tail. By now, the crowd was ecstatic. Their approval increased by degrees a moment later, when the archduke added the acklay, a hideous insectoid that moved on four legs, each of which ended in elongated pincher claws. Other arms waved menacingly, claws snapping in a skin-crawling rhythm. The horned head was more than two meters above the ground.

"Well, this should be fun--for them, at least," muttered Obi Wan.

"What?" Anakin asked.

"Never mind," Obi Wan replied. "You ready for the fight?"

"The fight?" repeated the Padawan, looking pointedly at his chained wrists and then back at the three monsters.

"You want to give the crowd its money's worth, don't you?" Obi Wan asked. "You take the one on the right. I'll take the one on the left."

"What about Padme?" Anakin asked worriedly.

Both Jedi turned to see that she had already managed to work one hand free of her shackles. Turning around to face the post, she climbed up the chain and stood atop the post to begin working on the second lock. "She seems to be on top of things," Obi Wan replied with a proud smirk.

-----

_They're all clueless,_ Padme thought as she balanced atop the post, working diligently at the lock that kept the remaining shackle on her wrist. _Jedi males are no exception._ When the first of the beasts had been released, she had promptly realized that confessions were going to have to wait. She'd hoped that they could fend the creatures off long enough that she could get close to him before Gunray or Dooku decided to permanently end the spectacle of the execution. Now she realized that even the slight delay she'd allowed in trying to be heard over the crowd may have been too long.

Rushing toward the post, the nexu leapt up to slash at her with catlike claws. She dodged, but it made another swipe, and she retaliated by whipping it with the heavy chain. It leapt up onto the pole, reaching the top before she could find an escape, and reared in front of her.

The roar was deafening, but fear pumped adrenaline through the young Senator's bloodstream, and as it moved to strike, she spun the other way. She felt the claws rake her back, but didn't let the pain slow her as , she came around hard, using her momentum to whip the free flying end of the chain into the beast's face. The nexu fell back off the pole, and Padme leapt. The chain pulled her back, sending her into a spin about the pole. She kicked hard as she came around, knocking the nexu to the ground. She knew it wouldn't be down long, though, and scrambled back to the top of the pole to finish getting the second shackle off.

By the time it fell, the nexu was below her, staring up hungrily. It crouched to make another leap--

And was crushed by the reek, which was now carrying Anakin on its back. "You okay?" he asked.

"Sure!" Padme nodded, gasping.

"Jump!" he called, but she needed no urging, and had already started to leap down onto the reek behind him. Immediately, her eyes scanned the arena, spotting Obi Wan still engaged with the now wounded acklay.

She held out her hand to him as they charged past, and he grabbed it, vaulting up behind her. She half turned to steady him, keeping her arm carefully around his waist until she felt him gain his balance on the fast-moving mount.

"You okay?" she asked urgently.

"Thanks for the rescue," he managed with a breathless nod.

"Always," she responded automatically as she let her arm down, bringing her hand to rest gently on his thigh. Then, abruptly realizing she had probably just wasted her only opportunity, she cried. "No, wait! Obi Wan, listen--"

"I am listening," he interrupted.

"No, you're not! You just interrupted me again!" she exclaimed, unable to restrain the sudden burst of frustration.

"Well, I'm sorry!" he shot.

She shook her head. "Listen! I--"

Before she could go further, though, droidekas rolled out of the gates around the area, surrounding them. He let out an explosive sigh. "This just keeps getting better."

"You're telling me," she muttered.

"Never give up, Master!" called Anakin, and the two Jedi shared an old, private grin.

"Okay, wait," interrupted Padme urgently. Before anything else--"

She broke off again, staring in astonishment as the arena stands above them suddenly lit up with the multicolored glow of a hundred lightsabers. The fight broke out in the stands first, then thousands of droids began to pour into the entire arena.

"I--" Padme started relentlessly, but suddenly there were Jedi rushing down around them, too, and a pair of light sabers flew through the air toward Obi Wan and Anakin, who caught them smoothly and began to slash at the droids. The fight spooked the reek, and Padme and the Jedi were thrown off. The next several minutes passed in a blur for her. She hit the ground hard and grabbed a discarded blaster. She was separated from Obi Wan, somehow ending up back to back with Anakin. Briefly, she caught sight of him nearby, working a similar posture with Master Windu, but he was too far away. She could only wait, continuing to pick off droids, looking for an opening, for some answer the Jedi hadn't seen, hoping there would be time.

-----

The Jedi were losing ground. Obi Wan continued to fight off droids, back to back now with Master Windu. The two Jedi moved perfect unison, giving their actions over to the Force, but he could already sense that eventually their efforts would not be enough. His fellow Jedi would not give up, but the sheer number of the droids was beginning to take its toll.

Suddenly, he saw Padme rush out, firing a blaster bolt with every step. Anakin followed, his lightsaber a green blur as he shielded her from incoming fire. She ran toward the execution cart, scrambling onto the confused and frightened orray that was hitched to it. Obi Wan felt both pride and exasperation as the pair raced around the arena, Padme firing shot after shot--

And into his moment of distraction charged the reek, separating him from Master Windu. The beast went after Windu, but Obi Wan soon had problems of his own. The acklay, which seemed to have taken a particular dislike to him, ran at him once more.

"Straight ahead," he muttered as it came, its huge claws snapping in the air.

Finally, it was too much. Padme and the Jedi were overrun, herded into the center of the arena. She stood in a loose circle with Obi Wan, Anakin, and Mace Windu, about twenty of their fellow Jedi ranged around them, all that remained of those who had raided Geonosis. The droid army had stopped advancing for the moment, content to simply hold them, but they didn't lower their weapons.

"Master Windu!" Count Dooku cried from the dignitary box. "You have fought gallantly. Worthy of recognition in the Archives of the Jedi. Now it is finished. Surrender," Dooku ordered, "and your lives will be spared."

"We will not become hostages for you to use as barter, Dooku," Mace fired back instantly.

"Then I'm sorry, old friend," Count Dooku said, in a tone that didn't sound at all sorry. "You will have to be destroyed."

She felt a moment of panic, her hands growing icy as they had on the ship before she and Anakin left Tatooine. It wasn't the certainty of death that frightened her. She had faced death more than once, each time with the certainty that she had served her ideals to the best of her ability. What chilled Padme Amidala now was the thought of the man at her back--who'd been there, lightsaber in hand, to defend those ideals beside her every time. She took a breath, determined that he would not die without--

"Padme!" he called.

She turned sharply at the sound, feeling the breath she'd just taken seep from her lungs as their eyes met. She swallowed hard, fighting for words that suddenly wouldn't come. He smiled.

"I know."

"Look!" Anakin cried before Obi Wan had even finished the statement. Padme whipped her head around and craned her neck to follow the Padawan's gaze and gasped. Suddenly, there were half a dozen gunships screaming down in a dusty cloud around them.

"Around the survivors, a perimeter create!" ordered Master Yoda, who appeared on one of the drop doors. White-armored men rushed out the open sides of the ships as they touched down, moving through the dust to obey him.


	21. The Choice

Obi Wan, Anakin, and Padme crouched in the open side of a gunship as it sped across the hot, dusty surface of Geonosis. Watching the Clone Troopers weave about on speeder bikes below them, the Master glanced speculatively toward his Padawan out of the corner of his eye. If Anakin wondered at all what his exchange with Padme in the arena had been about, he hadn't asked. His emotions were simmering though, turbulent in a way that the Master had not felt before. He couldn't be sure whether the change was a rekindled jealousy or something more. He sensed that something had occurred on Tatooine, something which troubled both of them, but there had been no time to ask.

He shifted his attention back to the speeder bikes, remarking casually, "They're good."

Anakin nodded honest agreement, giving no hint of an emotional struggle. Both Jedi turned their attention to the Techno Union starship they were rapidly approaching, and the gunship opened fire. The blaster cannons pounded it relentlessly, but seemed to have little effect.

"Aim right for the fuel cells," Anakin told the gunner, who adjusted his aim and fired again.

"Good call!" Obi Wan cried as huge explosions took out the ship and it tilted and fell from the sky. Then he shouted toward the crew, "Those Trade Federation ships are taking off. Target them, quickly!"

"They're too big, Master. The ground-troopers will have to take them out," Anakin told him, and Obi Wan knew better than to question his Padawan's judgment in the matter. Ships and flying were Anakin's forte, and the Master was content to let him have it.

The gunship slowed and banked suddenly, circling a droid gun emplacement. It came around too fast for the stationary system to swivel, and it only managed a single shot before a barrage of blaster fire destroyed the defensive position completely. That shot hit hard, rocking the gunship badly.

"Hold on!" Obi Wan yelled as he clutched the edge of the drop door.

"Can't think of a better choice!" Padme shot back.

He turned toward her, a smirk forming on his lips, when he caught sight of a Geonosian speeder carrying a familiar white-haired figure. "Look over there!" he shouted.

"It's Dooku! Shoot him down!" cried Anakin.

"We're out of ordnance, sir," the clone captain replied.

"Follow him!" Anakin ordered.

The pilot obediently turned the ship up on its side, banking fast to swerve into a straight run for the Count.

"We're going to need some help," Padme told him pointedly.

"No, there's no time," Obi Wan countered. "Anakin and I can handle this."

As the gunship began to close, the fighters flanking Dooku banked away, veering to both sides and turning to engage. The gunship pilot wove his way admirably through their fire, but then another blast rocked the ship, and with the vehicle up on edge, the two Jedi barely managed to stay aboard. Obi Wan felt Padme's fear as she started to fall, but she was gone even before his Force-aided reflexes could react.

_"Padme_!"

Not his voice but Anakin's. Obi Wan's own throat was closed tight with horror, and not even a strangled whisper emerged as he watched her hit the ground. Through the haze and dust, the white form of her body lay utterly still, motionless. Instinctively, he reached out through the Force, searching in desperation for a flicker of life, the single, distinctive spark of Force energy that he knew and could find anywhere…through anything.

"Padme!" by the time Anakin had screamed again, he had found her. _Padme,_ he breathed silently, his vision wavering with tears of relief. She was alive, at least for the present. Only when he was certain of this did Obi Wan's mind register that his Padawan was ordering the gunship pilot to put the ship down.

Forcing the tears away, Obi Wan moved to grip the Padawan by the shoulders. "Don't let your personal feelings get in the way! Follow that speeder," he told the pilot with grim finality.

Anakin wrenched free of his grip and tried to peer past him out the drop door. "Lower the ship!" he growled insistently.

"Anakin, I need you," the Jedi held his voice steady by sheer strength of will. "I can't take Dooku alone. If we catch him, we can end this war right now! We have a job to do."

"I don't care!" Anakin bellowed. He pushed out to the side again, roaring, "Put the ship down!"

"You will be expelled from the Jedi Order!" The words cracked through the air between them, resonating deeply through the Jedi Master's mind and heart. The same warning he'd spoken to Anakin in his dream.

"I can't leave her," Anakin pleaded, his voice dropping to become almost a whisper of desperation.

"The most difficult thing that I have ever had to do is leave her," Obi Wan kept his tone firm, but felt the burn of tears again and didn't bother trying to hide them.

The fire returned to Anakin then and he lashed out at his Master in furious disbelief as he began to understand. His resentment stung Obi Wan as deeply as the harsh demand. "Then why are you? How _can_ you? You're supposed to be her _best friend!"_

"Come to your senses!" the Master commanded, bringing all his years of training and self-discipline to bear, cutting through both of their emotions with icy, harsh reality. "What do you think Padme would do if our positions were reversed?"

Finally, Anakin's shoulders slumped in defeat. "She would do her duty."

_And I will do mine,_ Obi Wan promised silently. He pushed past Anakin toward the pilot, ordering again, "Follow that speeder."

-----

_Padme!_

The desperate, unspoken cry filled her mind as she fell. Then again as she lay stunned on the scorching sand, a softer echo, _Padme._

She hurt all over. In fact, she hurt so badly that she felt as if her body had disappeared into a solid mass of aching. Her ears rang violently with the impact of her head and the dune beneath her, and in her mind there was again the clash of lightsabers…

_"You're going to pay for all the Jedi you killed today, Dooku!" Anakin shouted, full of pent up rage. _

_Obi Wan calmly caught his arm, pulling him back, calling him to focus. "We move in together. You slowly on the--"_

_"No! I'm taking him now!" The Padawan yanked away from his Master, his eyes burning with resentment that had nothing to do with Dooku, and Padme understood. The Jedi were not the ones Anakin wanted to avenge. Obi Wan had prevented him from saving her, and Obi Wan was his Master. Count Dooku, though, was the enemy. He was a killer--he could become the focal point of the turbulent boy's frustrations. He could become a target for the rage that exploded from him now._

_"Anakin, no!" they cried together, anguished._

_He rushed in, only to be thrown back by a motion of Dooku's hand._

_"As you can see, my Jedi powers are far beyond yours," Dooku told Obi Wan smugly._

_"I don't think so," Obi Wan countered, moving toward him carefully, his blue blade held diagonally up over one shoulder._

_The Count elegantly raised a hand, sending a terrifying arc of blue lightning toward him, and Padme screamed. Obi Wan held his ground, and the crackling energy met the blue blade in his hand, channeled harmlessly into it by the Force._

_"You can't win, Darth. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine," he said. _

_"I've been waiting for you, Obi Wan. We meet again, at last. The circle is now complete…When I left you, I was but the learner; now I am the master," came the taunting rejoinder._

_"Only a master of evil, Darth," Obi Wan said in reply. _

_No, she shook her head vehemently. There was still good in him. He was still their Ani. She could feel it. "Anakin, please! Stop! Stop now. Come back! We love you."  
_

_"Liar!" the Sith Lord roared._

_"Padme, get to the ship," Obi Wan said calmly._

_But she couldn't--couldn't move. Her throat was closing, as if caught in the grip of Anakin's tightening fingers._

_"Let her go, Anakin!"_

_She felt the choke-grip loosen, then release, and she slid to the ground. He was beside her instantly, his lips pressed to her forehead. "Padme…darling, are you all right?"_

_…The red blade struck…_

_"You'll destroy everything he tried to protect!"_

_…The red blade struck…_

_"BEN!!!"_

_…The red blade struck…_

"M'lady, are you all right?" the distant voice of a Clone trooper asked.

Padme slowly sat up, shaking her head to clear it. She blinked up at him in confusion, wondering for a moment where she was and how she had gotten back here. Then the dream images faded.

"Are you all right?" he repeated.

"I think so," she nodded.

"We better get you back to the Forward Command Center--" he started.

"No, no," she shook her head. "Gather up what troops you can. We've got to get to that hanger. Get a transport. Hurry!"

-----

She raced in as he and Anakin made their way toward Yoda, almost staggering him with the force of her embrace. Obi Wan leaned into her, wrapping his own arms around her just as tightly, despite the pain that still lanced through his arm with each motion. He pressed his cheek to her hair, tears welling behind his closed eyelids.

"Padme," he whispered.

"Obi Wan, are you all right?" she asked urgently.

"I'm fine," he murmured, kissing her hair in reassurance. Then he pulled back, adding softly, "Anakin's been hurt badly."

She nodded in understanding, and they both moved to help the wounded Padawan out of the hangar. He could barely stand, and although the heat of Dooku's lightsaber had immediately cauterized his arm, Obi Wan feared that he was going into shock. Yoda went with them as they helped him aboard a transport, watching silently.

Little was said by the exhausted group until Anakin was safely inside, but Padme was surprised when Yoda remained with her and Obi Wan as they left him. Arm in arm, the pair made their way back outside again, she bearing as much weight for him as she comfortably could. The diminutive Master walked along beside them, saying nothing until all three of them stood out in the Geonosian sunset.

"Your choice you have made, Obi Wan," he murmured.

"Yes, Master, I have," he nodded without hesitation.

Padme frowned.

Yoda said nothing for a long moment. His gaze seemed tremendously sad, but Obi Wan saw no judgment in the great Jedi's expression, sensed not even disappointment. "See to your Padawan for the moment, I will. When you return to Coruscant, a final report to the Council you may give, and then say your goodbyes."

Letting his arm fall away from Padme, Obi Wan gave a deep bow. "Thank you, Master," he said.

"May the Force be with you, Obi Wan," Yoda replied gravely.

"May the Force be with you, Master Yoda," he inclined his head.

Yoda turned to go back into the ship and Padme's frown deepened. Looking from one to the other in confusion, she finally focused on Obi Wan and asked, "What was that about? What did he mean, _final report_?"

"I'm leaving the Jedi Order, Padme," came the quiet reply.

It stung her like a slap. Her breath caught, and she felt all the blood drain from her face. "No," she shook her head insistently. "I won't let you!"

"It's not your decision," Obi Wan told her in the same tone of calm certainty.

She shook her head, fighting sudden, angry tears. "You are a Jedi! You can't give that up, not for me, Obi Wan. Especially not now. The Republic is going to war."

He glanced down at their feet, searching for words. "The path of my life led to you ten years ago. I tried to ignore that, tried to make things go back the way they were, but it was a mistake. Everything just keeps leading me back to you. The Force won't let me move on until I make a choice, and I've made it. I can't let you go, Padme. I don't want to."

"What about Anakin? You gave your word…" she trailed off, unsure whether she was more afraid that he would change his mind or that he wouldn't.

He gave a weary sigh. "I have taught him all I know. Qui-Gon would ask no more of me than that. I promised Yoda that I would do my best, and I have done it. I cannot continue teaching him the Way of the Jedi, teaching him to forego attachment in favor of service to the Force, when I want more than anything else to be with you."

"Oh, Obi Wan…" she shook her head in disbelief and glanced away, biting her lip to keep him from seeing it tremble.

He wasn't fooled and reached to cup her face in his hands. "What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid," she confessed.

"Of what?" he asked gently.

"This--and everything that's happening around us," she said, swallowing hard, as her fingers drifted up to touch his cheek. "But I don't want to be anymore. I love you, Obi Wan Kenobi. And I want to be with you."

He took a breath, opened his mouth to say something, and closed it again. Then he shook his head and let out a little laugh of both amazement and exasperation. "I don't know what to say," he admitted.

Padme laughed as well. "What?"

"I never imagined I'd hear you say that," he explained, still chuckling. "Now I have no idea what to say."

"Then don't say anything," she grinned, letting her arms slide around his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding his head slowly but firmly toward hers. In the instant before their lips met, both paused, suddenly wanting to draw the moment out, to hold and capture it. They were so close now that each could feel the warm, rapid bursts of the other's breath. They held each other, conscious of every curve and contour, every line of the other's familiar form in a way that neither had allowed themselves to be before. Their erratically pounding hearts didn't slow, but each beat began to come together in such perfect unity that it they lost all sense of _whose _heart was thudding against whom. In that moment, each felt the touch of the other's lips, felt the bond that the Force had forged between them firmly, finally, endlessly realized.

_I love you…always have…since Tatooine._


	22. New Ground

Note that for plot purposes, One Path's Clone Wars will take place over 5 years instead of 3. Check out my author page for more complete reference information.

-----

Anakin stood in the dark, his eyes firmly on the wall in front of him. Obi Wan, in the doorway behind him, took a breath and tried again. "I know that the Council has asked Master Windu to take over your training. He is considering it, Anakin, but he has _not _made a decision, and this behavior is not going to help me convince him."

"Is that what you came to say?" the Padawan asked harshly.

"No. Look--I'm sorry. I didn't mean to deceive you. I need you to forgive me, Anakin. I'm leaving now as much for you as for Padme," Obi Wan said.

"I don't even want to look at you," Anakin flung at him.

"I can see that," Obi Wan muttered, masking the hurt he felt behind a sardonic rejoinder. Then he sighed, realizing that sarcasm now was only going to feed the boy's resentment. He could hardly imagine how he would have felt in Anakin's place, if it had been Qui-Gon who chose to leave when _he_ had been the Padawan learner.

"So why are you still here? Isn't she _waiting _for you?" demanded Anakin.

"I'm here because your feelings are out of balance. Don't neglect everything you've learned! Remember what Master Yoda told you when you were a boy. Anger leads to hate…" he trailed off as Anakin stiffened, and he sensed a shift in the Padawan's emotions. Guilt? Obi Wan frowned and took another breath, then tentatively entered the room. He was no longer the Master; there was no reason for him to hold back the things he might have said in hopes of teaching this volatile young man to discipline his emotions, no reason that Anakin should not understand how deeply his own caring ran. Still, he felt awkward as he reached to grip the Padawan's shoulder. "We love you, Anakin. Both of us. You are both my son and my brother. And Padme's love for you has never changed."

Anakin hung his head, but didn't reply. Obi Wan held the silence for a while, then closed his eyes, taking a moment to evaluate Anakin's emotions before he let his hand fall away. He smiled faintly. The bond of Master and Padwan ran deep; it would require time, he realized, but that bond would win over resentment in the end. It always had. He nodded and stepped back, heading toward the door.

"Master."

He turned in surprise. Anakin still hadn't moved, but had at least started staring at the wall again. "You don't have to call me that any longer," Obi Wan shook his head.

"I don't think I could ever call you anything else," Anakin said.

"Obi Wan," he offered.

"I could never hate you," Anakin told him.

"I know," he smiled.

-----

Padme had been unable to convince Typho to let her go to the landing platform alone, despite the fact that they had already discovered who was behind the assassination attempts. When the fighter set down, though, she entirely forgot about the security officer and her handmaidens, who were ranged in a half circle behind her, along with Artoo. The Delta-7's canopy eased open, but Obi Wan didn't climb out right away, and she had to restrain the urge to rush forward.

Inside the ship, the former Jedi looked slowly around him and took a breath. He ran a hand through his hair and turned toward his droid with an uncertain smile. "Well, this is it, Arfour. We're home."

Arfour beeped interrogatively.

"Yes, I'm sure about this," Obi Wan smiled. Then, he climbed out of the cockpit and vaulted onto the platform.

Padme raced toward him, flung her arms around his neck, and squeezed her eyes shut tight as he lifted her from the ground. He set her down again, but kept her wrapped firmly in his arms. Their lips met fiercely for a long moment, and as he pulled back, she could see both surprise and delight in his blue eyes. She hugged him close again, smoothing her hands over the broad strength of his back.

"I missed you so much!" she whispered against his ear.

"I've missed you too," he nodded, turning to bury his face in her neck.

"I almost called the queen Obi Wan this morning," she confessed.

"I love you," he laughed.

"I know," she said teasingly.

He squeezed her tighter, suddenly overcome with the depth of his own emotions, with the pure, honest, open reflection of them that he sensed from her. He closed his eyes and drew in a long breath, filling his senses with the scent of her, the warmth and softness and strength that he both knew so well and had never known before.

"I love you, Obi Wan," she whispered, barely keeping tears in check as her eyes slid closed.

He pressed a reassuring kiss to her temple. "I love you too, Padme."

Artoo rolled forward suddenly, bumping into Obi Wan's leg as he passed. The couple pulled apart, giving him a startled look. The little droid tootled an innocent apology and wandered off to confer with Arfour on the hull of the fighter.

"All right, we get the message," Obi Wan laughed.

Artoo swiveled his head to look at the humans again and beeped something that sounded distinctly like, "Who, me?"

"Yes, you," Padme grinned.

He beeped again, and both humans laughed. Then, Padme reached to take Obi Wan's hand leading him over to Typho and the handmaidens. The captain stepped smoothly forward as they approached.

"Welcome to Naboo, sir," he said with a half bow to Obi Wan.

"Thank you, Captain," he smiled.

"We have a speeder waiting…" Typho started.

"I thought we'd walk," interrupted Padme. "Alone."

Typho frowned, "M'lady, I don't think that's advisable under the circumstances…"

"Which circumstances, Captain? Am I to spend the rest of my life in fear of assassins now?" Padme raised an eyebrow.

Obi Wan chuckled, giving a little wave of his hand. "Senator Amidala will be perfectly safe with me, Captain, I assure you."

Typho nodded, his expression suddenly blank. "Of course, sir. Senator Amidala will be perfectly safe with you."

He stepped aside, allowing the happy couple off the platform, and Padme turned to stare at Obi Wan with wide eyes. "Did you just…?"

He looked back, giving all appearance of startled confusion. "What?"

"Nothing," she said with a shake of her head. Then she glanced over her shoulder. "C'mon, Artoo. We're leaving."

The droid beeped in acknowledgement and sped after them. He hung back a bit as they left the landing platform, though, realizing that the couple wanted privacy. Padme started to rest her head on Obi Wan's shoulder, but abruptly halted.

"Wait a minute," she frowned.

"What?" he asked seriously.

"You and I were supposed to have a chat, remember?" she said.

"Were we?" he smiled slyly, telling her that he knew quite well what she meant.

"Yes. Something about reading my mind and not telling me until after we'd fought the monsters in the arena…? Sound familiar?" she asked.

"Oh. That," he cleared his throat.

"Mmm-hmm," Padme nodded. "It wasn't very nice of you."

"No, I don't suppose it was," he admitted.

"Or fair," she added.

"Very unfair," he agreed.

"Rude."

"I wouldn't go that far…" he said, not quite hiding a smile.

"You wouldn't?" she challenged.

"Well, darling, I didn't do it intentionally!" he said.

"You didn't," her statement was clearly disbelieving.

"I knew what you felt--how was I supposed to know that's what you were trying to tell me?" he pointed out.

"By reading my mind?"

"Oh," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his free hand, making a show of trying to think up an explanation. "Well--I can't really read your mind, you know. Not in a situation like that. Just surface thoughts…images…feelings."

"Obi Wan, I can't remember there being much else on my mind besides needing to tell you before we died," she pointed out.

"Well, I was rather preoccupied with imminent death at the time, too," he reminded her.

"Of course," she smirked.

"What? I was!" he insisted.

"I know," she sighed fondly, this time letting her head come to rest on his shoulder. "I can't help feeling it's wrong to be this happy right now…"

"Padme, it isn't," he shook his head.

"Do you think Dooku was telling the truth about what he said? The Senate being controlled by a Sith Lord?" she asked.

"It doesn't feel right to me," he shook his head. "Besides, after Devaron, Yoda said that the Sith who kidnapped you was the last. He said there were always two--a Master and an Apprentice. The one who killed Qui-Gon was certainly skilled enough to have been the Master."

"But why would Dooku make that up?" she frowned, lifting her head again.

"Dooku has been seduced by the Dark Side of the Force," Obi Wan said with a troubled sigh. "Fear is the harbinger of the Dark Side, even more so than anger. He's trying to sow fear and mistrust…in the Senate, between the Senate and the Jedi. We can't let him do that, Padme."

"You're right," she nodded slowly in agreement.

"Look," he laid his hand on her cheek. "Let's not talk about this now, all right?

"But--"

"We'll have more of it than we know what to do with soon enough. Let it wait today," he said softy.

"All right, Obi Wan," she smiled. Then, letting her eyes travel over the simple tunic and trousers he wore, she remarked, "You know, I almost don't recognize you."

"I feel strange," he admitted.

"Have you ever worn anything besides the robes?" she asked.

"Occasionally, under cover," he nodded. "But I always knew I was going to put them back on."

"It will probably take some getting used to," she murmured.

"I don't mind," he told her.

She smiled again, settling her head back on his shoulder. He turned to touch her hair with his lips and released her hand to wrap his arm around her, hugging her close against his side as they walked. For a while, neither spoke, content to enjoy the warmth of the day and the fragrant breeze.

Finally, Padme softly ventured, "How's Ani?"

"He'll be all right."

"Did Master Windu agree to finish his training?" she wanted to know.

"Mmm, I spoke with him again before I left. He still has some reservations, but he agreed."

"What kind of reservations?"

"Anakin is very volatile. He lacks discipline and emotional control. But I think that, in some ways I was part of the problem. Our relationship has always been so fraught with tension. Master Windu will be able to be more objective with him. It will give him a fresh start."

"I know how much you love him," Padme offered, stretching her arm across his torso to take his free hand.

Silence fell again, comfortable and easy. Nothing else needed to be said, and both felt content to simply, finally, be here, resting the pleasant warmth of long familiarity that was suddenly mingled with new wonder. Streets became tree lined and populated by houses that were separated from one another by neat hedges. Old women sat gossiping on their front steps; children ran playing happily in the yards around them. To Obi Wan, it seemed both utterly normal and entirely unreal. He had visited hundreds of worlds, seen countless manifestations of domestic life, but always through the lens of a Jedi--someone who, though he might take part in such an existence briefly, as a guest or an observer, was held at some distance by the demands of a monastic lifestyle. Now that barrier was gone, and here was Padme, brimming with excitement as she came to realize that, yes, they were here together and she could finally share this vitally important aspect of her life with him--the part of her that he had only heard about or read in her letters.

He knew the side street as they turned onto it, as much from the many stories she'd told him of her childhood here as from the happiness and sense of comfort that he felt from her--the feeling that this, unlike any other place in the galaxy, was _home._ Could it really be his as well?

"There's the house!" Padme she exclaimed, pulling him from his thoughts.

It had a beautiful simplicity, much like the others here, and was, surrounded by flowers, vines, and hedges. She started for the door, pulling him along, but sensed his hesitation and turned back with a wide smile that was both reassuring and surprised.

"Are you nervous?"

"A bit," he admitted.

"Don't be," her smile widened as she slid her arms around his neck.

The door behind them banged open, and the air rang with the happy squealing of two childish voices. "Aunt Padme!"

"Right," Obi Wan sighed ruefully as their kiss was cut short.

"I'll talk to you later," she winked, spinning to run toward the girls and embrace them.

He looked on and smiled, immediately recognizing six year old Ryoo, who had dark hair much like Padme's. Her four year old sister, Pooja, had blond curls cut much shorter. Padme hugged both, then took them in hand and led them over to him.

"Girls, this is Obi Wan. Obi Wan, meet my famous nieces. Ryoo and Pooja," she beamed.

"Hello, Ryoo. Hello, Pooja. I'm very pleased to meet you both," he smiled.

The girls eyed him for a long moment, and he cast an uncertain glance toward Padme, who frowned in confusion. Then the two children turned to one another, seeming to hold a silent conference. They looked back at him and Ryoo asked, "Are you going to be our new uncle?"

Obi Wan's eyes bulged. He gave a small, uncomfortable cough. "Well…" he started to say.

"Funny, but I'd expected a bit more enthusiasm," remarked a voice from the steps. He turned again to see a woman who could only be Padme's older sister. The resemblance between the two women was uncanny. Sola was few years older, perhaps a bit heavier, but no less beautiful, and she had an air of complete contentment about her which Obi Wan had seldom sensed in Padme.

"Stop it, Sola, you're embarrassing him," Padme scolded.

"Him?" Sola asked, grinning as she came out to stand beside her sister.

Padme sighed and looked down at her nieces, releasing their hands. "Girls, go wake up Artoo," she said.

Pooja and Ryoo scampered happily off to hug the little droid, crying "Artoo! Artoo!" as they ran, and the adults shared a quiet laugh.

"It's good to finally meet you, Obi Wan," Sola said more seriously.

"You too, Sola, although I feel almost as if I know you already," he nodded.

"Good," the elder sister grinned again. "Then you'll have no reason to be shy here. Dinner's almost ready. As usual, my baby sister's timing is perfect."


	23. A Little Help

The interior of the house was as warm and rich with family life as the outside. It was as unlike the Temple or anywhere on Coruscant as Obi Wan had ever been. The furniture was comfortable and slightly worn, made to be lived in and abused by growing children. The stone floors were covered in thick carpeting or left bare, but scrupulously clean. Jobal Naberrie took pride in her home.

That indomitable personage appeared to greet them next, and bestowed on Obi Wan a smile so like Padme's that he felt the last of his discomfort begin to dissipate. Then Padme presented him to her father, and the nervousness returned twofold. Ruwee Naberrie had a kind face, and his short brown hair was slightly out of place, but this did nothing to set Obi Wan at ease while the two men shook hands. Padme's completely ecstatic smile did, though, and after some small talk, Jobal ushered the entire party into the kitchen.

She disappeared into the next room with Sola, leaving Obi Wan, Padme, and Ruwee at the table. Amid the clatter of dishes as they prepared to bring in the meal, Sola could be heard every few moments saying, "Too much, Mom." The three at the table shared knowing smiles, Obi Wan having heard long ago about Jobal's tendency to overstuff her guests.

Pooja and Ryoo were called in from the yard and told to wash their hands. When that was accomplished, they clambered onto empty chairs at the table and proceeded to ply Obi Wan with questions about Coruscant and the Jedi Temple until their mother came in carrying a large bowl of food from the kitchen.

"Enough to feed the town?" Padme asked her sister as the older woman set the food on the table.

"You know Mom," Sola said automatically. Obi Wan could tell that the two had had this conversation many times and hid an amused smile.

"I hear that no one ever leaves this house hungry," he remarked.

"Well, one person did," Padme replied.

"I know," he continued the story, "But your mother chased him down again."

They all laughed, and Jobal chose that moment to come in with another, bigger bowl, which only made them laugh harder. She drew herself up and stared imposingly until they quieted. Then she walked over calmly and set the bowl down.

"They arrived just in time for dinner. I know what that means," she said as she set a plate down in front of Obi Wan and rested a hand on his shoulder. "I hope you're hungry, Obi Wan."

"Starving," he grinned up at her.

She beamed back and cast a superior look at her family, remarking as she took her seat, "I always knew I'd like him, Padme."

-----

"…so, I look back at her and say, 'or you could just take the hat thing off and let me talk to her'…"

The group around the table exploded with laughter again, and Obi Wan broke off the story to wait for them to compose themselves. Padme, red-faced with embarrassment beside him, laid a hand on his arm. "All right, are you done?" she asked with a mock glare.

"No," he shook his head. "I haven't gotten to the part about your hair sticking up."

"Her _hair?"_ Pooja asked, wide-eyed at the thought of her elegant aunt with her hair standing on end.

"Yes," nodded Obi Wan, reaching casually to hold up a lock of Padme's hair. "She took off the headdress and it was sticking straight up like this…"

Padme swatted his hand playfully away, and Ryoo suddenly narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the couple. "You _are_ going to be our new uncle, aren't you?"

"I think he is," Pooja nodded in agreement.

"Girls!" Padme scolded.

Obi Wan turned a conspiratorial look on the two children and leaned closer. "Well. I haven't actually convinced your aunt yet. But maybe you could help me."

"Obi Wan!" Padme gasped, swatting him again as her parents and sister roared with laughter, and the girls looked at her with huge, pleading eyes.

"Please, Aunt Padme!" they chorused. "Please marry Obi Wan!"

"I--" she broke off, her mouth working soundlessly for several long seconds.

He grinned back at her, but she caught a hint of real apprehension in his gaze and felt her face become even hotter. Raising her hands to her cheeks, she shot a look of entreaty toward her father, who took the cue and quietly cleared his throat.

"I think it's time we all went inside," he said, pushing back his chair.

"Oh, but--" began Jobal.

"Dear," Ruwee laid a hand on her arm.

She nodded in resignation and rose from the table. Sola got up as well, marshalling her daughters out of the room. Ruwee followed, not quite dragging Jobal but not releasing her arm until they were both safely out of earshot.

"I'm--sorry about Mom," Padme smiled, suddenly having trouble meeting Obi Wan's gaze.

"Your mother is wonderful," he shook his head. Then he pushed back his own chair and took her hand as he stood up.

Padme wondered for a moment whether her legs would hold her. She found that they did, though, despite feeling as if her knees were made of water. He took a few steps away from the table and turned to face her. He looked down briefly, gathering his thoughts, and when he met her eyes again, her heart was hammering so loudly that she almost didn't register the meaning of the words he spoke.

"I don't have a ring to give you," he murmured.

"I don't need one," she shook her head.

"I don't have anything," he continued. "Anything but me."

"That's all I want," she promised, caressing his cheek with the tips of her fingers.

He nodded, smiling with sudden, uncharacteristic shyness. Holding her gaze for a while more, he stood silently, and then sank down onto one knee. Padme's vision wavered as he did so, and tears began to spill softly down her cheeks before he spoke a word. Countless things he might have said began to crowd his mind as he looked up at her--things he had wanted to say for years, about how profoundly she had changed his life; how much he valued her, respected her, relied on her, how deeply grateful he would always be that she reciprocated those feelings; how much it meant to know that there was someone who both loved and understood him, who shared his ideals and his commitment to service. The words he spoke, though were simple and direct, because he knew intrinsically that none of those other things needed to be said.

"I love you, Padme. I want to give my life to you. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she whispered.

-----

"I think I'm going to like being 'Uncle Obi Wan'," he remarked later that night. He dropped wearily into a chair, watching her shut the bedroom door behind them.

She turned, smiling, and walked over to slide onto his lap. "They wore you out, didn't they?"

"Mmm," he nodded, giving her lips an absent kiss.

"You know, I thought the fact that I still lived at home might be awkward for you, at least at first," she said, nestling her head against his shoulder. "I've never had reason to want to live somewhere else."

"I know," he nodded. "And you move around far too much."

"But I guess we'll have to. I love my parents, but I don't won't want to start a family until we're…" she broke off, feeling him tense. Looking quickly up at him, she asked, "What? You don't want kids?"

"I do," he assured her. "I suppose I'm still getting used to the idea of not being a Jedi Knight--living in a world where I could be someone's father is…a bit daunting."

"I'm sorry. I guess we are moving kind of fast," she murmured. "I just feel like I've wasted so much time."

"There will be time, darling," he promised, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Right now, I think I just want to be Obi Wan."

"You mean _Uncle_ Obi Wan," she giggled.

"Uncle Obi Wan is good too," he laughed, guiding her head back down onto his shoulder.

"Have you given any thought to what you're going to do?" she asked quietly.

"I'm not sure," he shook his head. "The Republic is at war; I know I have to find a way to help, but I don't know how yet. The Force will show me when the time comes."

"Will it?" she asked hesitantly. Padme understood the existence of the Force; she had seen Anakin and Obi Wan manipulate it before, but the faith that the Jedi had in its ability to guide them was more than a little intimidating to the practical young woman.

He turned with a reassuring smile and kissed her forehead again. "The Force guided me to you."

-----

"Why am I so nervous?" Padme asked, getting up again to peer out the window, despite the fact that the guests were gathered by the lake and she could see neither them nor Obi Wan from where she and Sola were getting ready. "Were you this nervous?"

"Yes," Sola laughed, walking over to lay her hands on her sister's shoulders. She turned the younger woman around and began to carefully straighten the dress. "It's a universal law. All brides must be nervous."

Padme laughed weakly, and Sola touched her cheek for a moment before leading her over to the mirror. She stared at herself with both disbelief and dissatisfaction. Part of her could not believe that any of this was happening. Another part was acutely conscious of Obi Wan outside with Sola's husband, Darred and the holyman. She was determined to look perfect for him, yet she continued to find things that weren't quite right. Sola assured her that he would see perfection no matter what she looked like, but Padme didn't care.

"Everything's ready outside," their father's voice came from the doorway. "The crowd is getting restless."

"So is the bride," commented Sola.

Ruwee Naberrie laughed and came inside, but as he neared his daughters, his expression grew somber. "You've been a Queen and a Senator, but you've never been more beautiful than you are today, honey. And your mother and I have never been more proud of you," he said to Padme.

She felt her throat tighten, and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around her father in a tight hug. "I love you, Dad."

Outside, the groom had no such balm for his apprehension. The only family that he had any memory of was the Jedi Order, and most of them were already engaged in the campaigns of the Clone Wars. Anakin and Master Windu had been called away at the last minute, and although Obi Wan's former Padawan had sent Threepio to Naboo, the droid was a poor stand in for his friend. He would have liked to have Anakin stand up for him today, but Sola's husband Darred had stepped in. As grateful as Obi Wan felt that Padme's family had so readily accepted him, he keenly felt the absence of those closest to him.

The only member of the Jedi Council in attendance was Master Yoda. That commanding presence amid the crowd of Senators and other dignitaries held a measure of comfort to the unsettled groom, but he wished that he could maintain even a semblance of peace and calm. A lifetime of Jedi training had done nothing to prepare him for this moment.

He had shaved and cut his hair for the ceremony, which took years off of his appearance. As a Padawan, his deceptively boyish looks had often worked to his and Qui-Gon's advantage, but now he simply felt as young as he looked--and about as awkward as he had been on Tatooine, when his attempt at a joke had earned him a puzzled, "Huh?" from Padme instead of a laugh. His cheeks reddened at the memory, and beside him, Sola's husband grinned.

"Relax," Darred Janren advised.

"Were you this nervous?" Obi Wan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," the other chuckled. "It's inherent to being a bridegroom. But it helps if you breathe once in a while."

"Oh. Right," smirked Obi Wan.

"Look, here they come," Darred told him.

"So much for breathing…"

Padme's hands were shaking as her father escorted her outside. He paused beside Obi Wan and bent down to kiss her cheek, then stepped away. Obi Wan silently took her hands and winked, but Padme could easily see that he was as nervous as she was.

The holyman began some typical oration the union of marriage and the responsibilities of husband and wife, of which Obi Wan heard very little. He had finally found his focus. As only a Jedi could, he took in every shimmering detail of her gown, every nuance of scent and sensation--her perfume, the shape of her fingers laced through his, the sound of her voice as she recited her vows, the glisten of tears in her eyes and the tender smile as he managed to repeat his own, and then a sudden soft hiss…

Hiss? He frowned, looking back at her in confusion. She cleared her throat, giving her head a slight twist to indicate the holyman. He flicked his gaze toward the cleric, who looked back expectantly. He'd missed something…

"Kiss me," she whispered pointedly.

"Oh," he nodded quickly, releasing her fingers to cup her face in his hands. Then he grinned. "Thanks for the rescue."

"Always," she whispered as their lips met, and for that day at least, the shadow of the Clone Wars dissipated.


	24. Idyll's End

I may have forgotten to note, the wedding is about a month into the war.

----

"Oh, stop," Padme told her grinning husband with an affected air of offended dignity. "You're only saying that because you don't like politicians."

"I like a select few," he replied, lacing his hands behind his head.

"Palpatine just isn't one of them, is that it?" she arched an eyebrow.

"I've observed that he is very clever at following the passions and prejudices of the Senators," Obi Wan told her.

"You've observed?" she repeated, half turning to pluck a long blade of meadow grass, which she then drew teasingly over his face.

He could have stopped her but didn't, laughing a little as the grass tickled his nose. He let out a small puff of breath to blow it away. "You'd see it too if you stopped to think about it," he said.

"I'd rather think about something else," she told him mischievously.

His eyebrows rose in surprise. Obi Wan wasn't sure he'd ever seen Padme like this. She could be impetuous and was often playful in private moments, but their play had almost always been verbal, and the old debate about his attitude toward the Senate was one of her favorites. He liked this side of her, he decided as he boosted himself up on his elbow. He made as if to kiss her, then suddenly grabbed her by the arm and tugged her down into the grass with him.

She shrieked girlishly, but let herself fall forward with complete trust. He kissed her slowly and ardently, guiding her onto her side without breaking the contact. Her fingers teased gently over the sides of his face, twined in his hair, but she drew back slowly, just enough to end the kiss, and he opened his eyes to see her looking back at him with both wonder and hesitation.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like this," she said softly, echoing his own thoughts from a moment ago.

"Neither have I," he replied, bemused. "I mean--you--well, me too, I suppose."

They both laughed, and she let her hand drift down to his cheek. "I'm glad nothing's changed--that we're still friends too," she told him.

"That could never change," he promised, shifting onto his back.

"You're right," she agreed, moving around as well until she could settle her head comfortably on his chest.

"I'm always right," he teased.

"Oh, please…"

"What?" he bantered. "I am! But I'll grant you that you were right about Varyinko. There's no better place to spend a honeymoon."

"The whole time I was here with Ani, I kept thinking of you. Wondering where you were, wishing…" the words were out of her mouth before she realized where she'd heard them before.

"I'm here now, darling," he assured her, softly stroking her hair. "And…"

Padme tensed against him, bringing her head back up to stare at him in disbelief. His smile faded, replaced by a frown of concern, and she swallowed hard. "Don't say you're not leaving," she whispered.

"What's the matter?" Obi Wan asked urgently.

"I--we've had this conversation before," she explained uncertainly, moving her hand back against the smooth softness of his cheek. "But wasn't like this. Not quite."

"A dream?" he frowned.

"It started out like this, but then everything changed. I…think I saw you and Jango Fett on Kamino…and then…" she broke off, shaking her head.

"Shh," Obi Wan's arms tightened protectively around her.

"It was like Ani's dreams, wasn't it?" she shuddered against him.

"Possibly," he allowed, deciding that although his first priority had to be calming and reassuring her, he couldn't do so by hiding or minimizing the truth. "But it may also have been just a dream. A coincidence."

"A coincidence that I saw you fighting Fett?" she asked dubiously.

"You were worried about me," he said with calm sincerity. "Padme, before I left for Kamino, I had a dream that you married Anakin."

"You what?" she blinked.

He smiled a little, sensing her fear start to fade. Guiding her head back against his heart, he quietly explained, "Visions--if it was a vision--only show _possible_ futures. Nothing is set in stone; nothing is unchangeable."

"But Ani's vision came true," she protested.

"The future is determined by our own choices," Obi Wan held her firmly, his hand moving in gentle soothing motions over her back. "Think about how different your dream was from what's happening now. If it was a vision at all, things have already happened to alter it."

She was silent for a while, considering the statement, considering the disturbing images of the dream itself. He had been wearing Jedi robes in the fight with Anakin; he didn't even own them now. Still, she felt a tug of uneasiness as she asked, "But how do you know when to believe what you see in a dream if they don't always come true?"

"You listen to your feelings," he replied.

"I'm not sure what my feelings tell me," she said honestly.

"That's because you're afraid of the dream," he told her. "Never let fear rule your mind, Padme. Fear is the path to the Dark Side."

"The Dark Side?" she frowned, looking up at him curiously. "Obi Wan, I'm not a Jedi."

"You might've been," he said softly.

"Are you serious?" she asked, eyes widening.

"What do your feelings tell you?" he prompted.

She didn't answer, looking back at him silently for a long time. Finally, she nodded, accepting the revelation with an ease that both surprised him and didn't. Most adults would have found it disconcerting to discover an untapped Force sensitivity, and he knew that Padme sometimes found his reliance on the Force uncomfortable. However, she had always been pragmatic; she recognized the importance of accepting the reality of things she couldn't change, whether it meant living with them or working to find ways around them. It was one of the traits that he loved most in her.

"All right," she said, nestling her head against his shoulder. "But what if I'm still not sure what my feelings say about the dream?"

"Then you listen to your husband," he deadpanned.

"What?" she laughed despite herself. "Obi Wan, that is _not_ Jedi wisdom!"

"Well, my darling, I am no longer a Jedi," he reminded her archly, grinning as he felt the last of her fears melt away.

"So that means everything you've learned doesn't work anymore?" she challenged.

"No, it means that my understanding of the Force has changed," he answered.

"Changed?" she asked.

"Changed to include the love of a woman," he nodded.

"So you know more about my dreams than I do?" she lifted her head again, looking down at him with an imperious expression that was well worthy of her mother.

"No, of course not," he said.

"Then I'm a little confused," she bantered.

"A husband has to develop a certain sensitivity to his wife's needs and feelings," he explained with a teasing grin.

"In three days of marriage?" she scoffed.

"I've had ten years," he pointed out. "I admit that we weren't _married,_ but that is a rather long time to be in love with someone."

Padme closed her eyes and gave her head a shake in fond exasperation. "All right, I'll bite. What do your feelings tell you?"

"My feelings tell me," Obi Wan said, his tone becoming serious as he cupped her face in his hands, "That no matter what happens tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or five years from now, you and I will be together. And as long as we are together, we have nothing to fear."

-----

"Tell me, Senator Organa, you know the former Master Kenobi well?" Palpatine asked, turning away from his office window to regard Bail Organa with an expression both troubled and kind.

"Quite well," the Senator affirmed. "He and young Skywalker have accompanied me on several diplomatic missions over the last four years or so."

Palpatine nodded thoughtfully. "You find him…reliable? Stable? Committed to the ideals of the Republic?"

Organa raised an eyebrow. "There are few more so, Chancellor. Jedi or no, Obi Wan Kenobi is a good man, both brave and honorable. To my knowledge he has never failed to carry out his duties in service to the Republic."

Palpatine nodded, then gave an indulgent smile. "I had heard as much from Senator Amidala years ago after the Blockade Crisis, but lately I'd begun to wonder if her opinion in the matter could really be counted on."

"That would be Senator Kenobi now, wouldn't it?" Bail smiled as well, and he gave his tone the slightest edge as he continued, "And you underestimate her, Chancellor, if you think that she would allow her relationship with Obi Wan to compromise her judgment concerning the welfare of the Republic."

"Perhaps," the Chancellor allowed. "But I think you'll agree that one cannot be too careful in these dark times. I am deeply troubled at the loss of so many Jedi already. And Count Dooku's defection is particularly disturbing. The Jedi themselves don't seem to have any reservations about Kenobi, but neither did they doubt Count Dooku's innocence in regard to the recent assassination attempts. I would hate to see another disgruntled Jedi Knight become a menace."

"That is simply not possible, Chancellor," Organa said firmly.

"Good," Palpatine replied. "That is precisely what I hoped you would say."

"Oh?" Organa asked.

"The fact that he no longer calls himself a Jedi does not negate his skills. And if your opinion of him is correct, the Grand Army of the Republic needs men like Obi Wan Kenobi. Perhaps you could travel to Naboo and prevail upon his sense of duty…" Palpatine trailed off hopefully.

Bail pressed a hand to his chin and frowned. "Obi Wan and the Senator are still on their honeymoon, Chancellor."

Palpatine gave a deep, troubled sigh, and shook his head sadly. "We all must make such sacrifices in time of war, I'm afraid."

Bail looked back at him silently, considering. After a long, tense moment, the senator gave a crisp nod. "I suppose you're right, Chancellor. I'll leave for Naboo at once."

"Thank you, Senator Organa," Papatine smiled as the other spun and strode briskly from the office. The smile widened as the door slid closed and he walked back to the chair at his desk. Sliding into it, he leaned back and templed his fingers, pressing them to his lips. His next guest would not arrive for several minutes, and until then there were options to consider, plans to weigh and then either modify or discard. Kenobi's resignation from the Jedi had taken him by surprise, but was not entirely unwelcome. The most serious problem it posed was the influence of Mace Windu upon Anakin. It would not be so easy to twist that relationship to his advantage as he had done with Kenobi as the boy's Master. There was no element of rivalry to be manipulated, either as Jedi or for the affection of Amidala. Still, Anakin's own ambitions were a powerful motivator in their own right, and Windu would perhaps seek to keep him on a tighter leash than even Kenobi had. This, along with Organa's unwitting help, could be used to the Dark Lord's advantage. Perhaps not as quickly--his timetable would have to be extended, he thought. Perhaps it would take five years instead of three, but he had learned to be patient. Those two years would be well spent if they meant the end of the Jedi Order…

He pushed these thoughts aside as he sensed the approach of Master Yoda. _Early,_ he thought with slight irritation. He was not used to being surprised by the Jedi. In the future he would have to see that they did not catch him off guard this way. He had waited too long, schemed and plotted too carefully, to allow a handful of robed do-gooders to undo all his work.

A hologram of Dar Wac appeared on the Chancellor's desk, announcing the arrival of his distinguished guest, and Palpatine nodded. "Send him in."

He rose and walked around the desk, waiting with his hands clasped in front of him as the door opened. The diminutive Master hobbled in on his cane, and Papatine smiled in greeting. "Ah, Master Yoda. So good to see you back from Naboo."

"Missed by Senator Amidala your presence was, Chancellor," the Jedi replied.

"Yes," Palpatine nodded. "I was so very sorry not to have been able to attend the wedding…"

"Unhappy times, these are," said Yoda, leaning on his cane to affix a penetrating stare on the Sith Lord. "A strain on us all, this war will soon become. Good it was to see such glad moments unspoiled by the Dark Side."

"Oh, yes, yes, I agree," Palpatine nodded quickly. "And I must say I'm glad that at least one member of the Jedi Council could be in attendance."

"Indeed," nodded Yoda, coming further into the room. "What help to you can I be, Chancellor?"

"Well--that's--that's precisely it," Palpatine said, looking profoundly uncomfortable as the Jedi Master pulled himself up into a chair. He walked back to the window and looked out on the city, seeming to consider his words carefully for a long time. Finally, he sighed. "Master Yoda, I don't see any point in mincing words. It's Obi Wan I'm concerned about."

"Oh?" the Master prompted.

"Yes," Palpatine turned to face him again. "Especially after recent events on Geonosis. I wondered if perhaps the Council would be keeping closer watch on him."

"A long time have I watched this one," Yoda shook his head. "When young, he was impetuous. Prideful. Impatient. But a fine Jedi has Obi Wan become. Fall, he will not."

"Can you be so sure?" Palpatine asked softly, drawing the question out, letting it hang in the air between them.

Yoda smirked faintly. "Certain, I am," he said.

"If I may be so bold, Master Yoda, did you not feel the same way about Count Dooku? Was he not your own apprentice once upon a time?" Palpatine asked delicately.

"Deceived by the Dark Side, Dooku has been," Yoda replied without hesitation. "Ruled by his passions. Not so for Obi Wan. Chose to pursue Dooku when Padme fell from the ship on Geonosis, did he. Proven himself, Obi Wan has."

"Surely one moment of decision cannot be so telling," ventured Palpatine. "Obi Wan wasn't _married_ on Geonosis. If anything now, his attachment to Padme will be stronger."

"Know you so much about the ways of the Force, Chancellor?" Yoda asked bluntly.

"Well--I--don't presume to know…" the Chancellor backpedaled, hiding a sly smile. "But it is common knowledge that the Jedi discourage attachment."

"My responsibility, Obi Wan will be," Yoda told him firmly. "See to him, I shall. You, I suggest, see to the problems of the Republic."

-----

Padme lifted a forkful of shuura fruit to her lips and took a slow bite, savoring the sweet juice as it filled her mouth. Her eyes slid closed with relish, and when she opened them again, she found Obi Wan with his chin on his fist, staring at her across the table.

"It's my favorite," she explained a bit self-consciously.

"I know," he murmured, still watching with the same expression of bemused fascination.

"You're staring," she told him.

"Am I?" he didn't stop.

"Yes," she tried to restrain a smile, her whole body growing warm under his blatant scrutiny.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, still not moving his eyes from her face.

"Then why are you still staring?" she asked.

"Because I can, I suppose," he replied honestly.

"What?" she couldn't resist a laugh.

"I remember when I first saw you," he said, pushing back his chair. He walked around the table and knelt beside her chair, then took her face gently in his hands. Stroking the contours of her cheeks with his thumbs, he softly went on, "Forcing myself not to stare…making myself find _anything _else to look at."

"I must have been incredibly naïve," she shook her head, leaning toward his lips.

"Sometimes people don't see what they're not looking for. You needed a friend…" Obi Wan trailed off at the sound of footsteps in the hall. He half turned toward the door as one of the retreat waitresses appeared, "What is it, Teckla?"

"Senator Organa is here to see you, sir," the waitress said apologetically.

He turned back to Padme, and the couple gave one another a long look. As he climbed to his feet again, his hand moved quietly to hers, and he gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Send him in."

Teckla nodded respectfully and stepped out again, a moment later returning with Bail, who offered a deep bow upon entering the room.

"I apologize for barging in on you," he began.

"It's quite all right, Senator Organa," Padme said, rising smoothly to stand beside her husband. The two politicians faced off for a moment, then both smiled, and Padme stepped forward to offer him her hand. She had not been pleased with Bail's role in the granting of Chancellor Palpatine's executive powers, but she was a realist. They had known each other for too long, and Bail was both an honorable man and a powerful ally in the Senate. She knew better than to allow a political grudge to come between them. "Please sit down. You've come far from Coruscant; are you hungry? We were just having lunch," she offered.

"No, no thank you, m'lady," Bail shook his head, though he did allow her to lead him to the table.

"I take it this is not a pleasure visit?" Obi Wan prompted as he returned to his own seat.

"No," Bail said again, stroking his mustache in thought. He considered his words for a few moments and then said simply, "I'll get right down to it. Even with the Clone Army, the Republic's resources, especially the Jedi, are stretched too thin by this war. The Chancellor feels strongly that your…personal life is your own business. We can't afford to lose you right now, Obi Wan."

"I have no intention of abandoning the Republic," Obi Wan assured him.

"Good," nodded Bail with a tight smile. "Because Chancellor Palpatine has authorized me to offer you a commission in the Grand Army of the Republic."


	25. What Matters

"There are alternatives to fighting," Padme said sharply. She turned away from the window to face Obi Wan, and he was struck by how incongruous the bright golden sunlight of Naboo seemed at this moment. It flowed around her, making her ethereal, quite literally painful to look at in the loose, billowing white gown that just hid the beginnings of her pregnancy.

"Yes, and as often as we can, we find them, Padme," he reminded her softly. Her parents were out for the day, leaving them alone in the house, but neither of them wanted a shouting match--not when he was about to leave again.

"And that's it?" she asked, tossing her head in frustration. He had spent the majority of the last four months on the front lines--with Bail doing, with the Jedi, even occasionally with Mace and Anakin--while she tried fruitlessly to remain the voice of reason, to still the cries for bloodshed in the Senate. There was no end in sight. He had been home twice--for a night or two each time--and then called away again.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked helplessly. "Do you want me to resign my commission?"

"I want you to stay here," she told him, fighting to keep her voice even as her anger broke. She crossed the room to lay her hands on the sides of his face, and her eyes filled with tears as she continued, "I want you to be here when your son is born. But it doesn't matter what I want or what you want. And I love you because you understand that."

Obi Wan closed his eyes, letting his forehead come to rest against hers. "If I can be here, you know I will."

She nodded, closing her own eyes against the burn of tears. "It's still six months away. The war could be over by then," she attempted.

He gave a nod of agreement. "Let's hope so."

"You'd better go," she reminded him.

He responded with a kiss that was at once fierce and tender, and she clung to him with profound desperation. Both were conscious that, despite his promises, this could well be the last time they saw each other. He all but crushed her in his arms, letting every detail of the embrace burn into his mind. Then he buried his face in her neck for a long moment before he finally drew back.

"I'll--" he started, his voice breaking on the familiar phrase.

Padme pulled him back and pressed her cheek to his, then whispered close to his ear, "I'll talk to you later…Your Highness."

Despite the gravity of the moment, Obi Wan laughed. He squeezed her tightly and turned to press his lips against the corner of her eye. "I love you."

"I love you too. Always have," she promised.

He smiled, slipping his hand gently onto her stomach. Then he slowly knelt and replaced the hand with his lips. Padme smiled through her tears, bringing her own hand up to smooth the back of his hair with her fingers.

"And I love you. Take care of your mother while I'm gone," he murmured.

-----

Mace Windu strode out of the Chancellor's office at a fast clip. Anakin stayed behind him, carefully silent. The Padawan knew that his Master was as close to angry as he would allow himself to be, but although he understood Windu's reasons, he couldn't help but feel the Chancellor had a point. It bothered him greatly that the Council was always so quick to dismiss Palpatine's concerns about Obi Wan. They _had_ been wrong about Dooku--and Obi Wan had deceived all of them for years.

Suddenly, the Master spun around, one eyebrow arched pointedly. "You have something to say, Anakin?"

The Padawan halted, eyes widening. Taken aback, he said nothing for a moment, but quickly gathered his wits. If Master Windu wouldn't listen to Palaptine, maybe he would listen to another Jedi. "Master, Chancellor Palpatine is right. Obi Wan himself taught me that attachment clouds judgment and interferes with a Jedi's ability to discern the will of the Force. There have been several attempts on Padme's life already, and when her pregnancy becomes public knowledge, there are sure to be more. He made no secret about not wanting to lead this campaign."

"Would _you_ want to leave your pregnant wife?" Windu asked calmly.

"No, Master. But that's what makes him dangerous," Anakin quickly replied.

"The Jedi Code is meant to be a guideline, Anakin, not the means by which we convict those who choose not to follow it. General Kenobi's actions have not shown him to be in any danger of falling to the Dark Side. He has been your friend and mentor for years. You do him a disservice," Mace said flatly.

Anakin bit his lip, both surprised and shamed by the strength of the rebuke. He knew Windu was right--Obi Wan had taught him that, too--and Obi Wan had been like a father to him. Shouldn't _he _be the first to defend the former Jedi now?

"Yes, Master, I apologize," he said with a bow.

"Perhaps it's not me that you should be apologizing to," Windu replied, turning again to continue down the hall.

-----

"Obi Wan."

He paused on his way to the bridge, turning to allow Bail to catch up. The senator sprinted to close the distance between them, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "How's Padme?"

"Well, she's not happy," related Obi Wan as he continued walking.

"Can you blame her?" Bail asked.

"No, I can't," Obi Wan shook his head. "I don't like leaving her this way. Not when Nute Gunray's still determined to see her killed."

"And she's pregnant," Bail finished the thought.

Obi Wan nodded silently.

Bail said nothing for a while, but Obi Wan could easily tell what the other man was thinking. His own wife, Breha, had difficulty both conceiving and carrying to term. She had lost their first child early in her pregnancy. They had recently discovered that she was pregnant again, and if either husband should be unwilling to leave his wife, it was Bail.

"There's still a chance we can end the war quickly. The sooner we do, the sooner we can get back to them," Bail said finally.

"Let's hope so," Obi Wan replied for the second time that day.

-----

"Don't worry about Master Obi Wan, Mistress Padme," Threepio consoled as the droid tottered along beside Padme in her family's garden. "He is quite able to take care of himself, and knowing that there is a child soon to be born is always a powerful motivation for human fathers to keep themselves safe."

"Thank you, Threepio," Padme managed a smile. She glanced over her shoulder to watch Artoo navigate the flowerbeds behind them, and her eyes widened at the sight of a familiar robed figure at the far end of the trees. She spun around, calling excitedly, "Ani!"

The Padawan jogged up to her, grinning widely. She pulled him into a tight hug, then stepped back to look him over. For a moment, there was a cacophony of greetings as Threepio began to exclaim over the arrival of his maker and Artoo jostled for the Padawan's notice. Anakin laughed, doing his best to give attention to both droids, while Padme looked on with a fond smile.

Finally, she asked, "What are you doing here? Is Master Windu with you?"

His expression became decidedly embarrassed. "Well, no, not exactly."

"He doesn't know where you are?" asked Padme, though she knew the answer.

"Well--no," he admitted.

"Anakin!" she scolded.

"But he is the reason I'm here," the young man offered hopefully.

"What do you mean?" Padme frowned.

"He sort of said some things to me yesterday," Anakin explained, looking around with a comical mix of eagerness and apprehension. "I was hoping…is Obi Wan here?"

Padme sighed sadly as she understood the reason for the unexpected visit. "No, I'm sorry, he isn't. He left yesterday."

"Oh," he glanced at the ground between them.

There was a brief, awkward silence, then Padme bridged the gap with a bright smile. "But you're here now. Tell me what's going on. We heard that you and Master Windu were caught in a raid."

"It turned out okay," Anakin smiled back. "Master Windu is quite a warrior. I have to admit, he's teaching me a lot."

"So you're getting along all right? How's your training going?" Padme questioned.

"He's…a lot to get used to," Anakin shrugged with a bit of discomfort.

Padme's smile softened, and she rested a hand on his arm. "Obi Wan misses you, too."

"Really?" he searched her face uncertainly.

"Of course," she promised.

He nodded, finally seeming satisfied, and then looked down again. When he met her eyes again, he offered a hesitant smile of his own. "What about you? Are you well, Padme? Are you…happy?"

"I'm very happy, Ani," she replied, but there was a sudden tightness in her throat and she turned away, beginning to walk again.

"Don't worry," Anakin said, quietly taking her arm as he followed. "Master--I mean, Obi Wan can take care of himself."

"So Threepio assures me," Padme said with a faint smile. "It's just…"

"Just what?" he prompted.

"It just seems as though there's never any time. Things weren't supposed to be this way--we wanted to find a place of our own before I got pregnant, but I've hardly seen him--"

Anakin tensed suddenly. "Down!"

"What?"

He didn't waste time repeating the order, just dropped to the ground, pulling her with him as he fell into the soft earth. Padme felt a rush of air over her back, and Anakin sprang up again, lightsaber in hand. He ran forward, his blue blade arcing to intercept a strange cylindrical droid with a menacing needle protruding from one end. He sliced it cleanly in two, then spun back to face her while Threepio let out a stunned cry.

"Oh! Oh--my _goodness!" _the droid exclaimed. "Oh, Master Ani, you've saved us all!"

"It wasn't after you, Threepio," the Jedi said as he bent to help Padme up. His hands moved worriedly to her shoulders and he ran his eyes over her, searching for signs of injury. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," she nodded shakily.

-----

Obi Wan stood with his arms crossed in front of the holoprojector, listening in disbelief. Typho had immediately moved Padme back to Coruscant, where she was now secluded in her apartment. Anakin had escorted them back, and still remained there, hovering silently in the background, but it was to the security officer that the former Jedi directed his attention.

"How did a hunter droid get through security, Captain?" he asked.

"I have no excuse, sir," came the response. "But I promise you, we will find out."

Obi Wan accepted that with a glower. "Do so quickly, Captain."

"You have my word, General Kenobi," he said with a bow.

"Wait a minute," Padme interrupted. "Are you actually going along with this? Obi Wan, you know I can't be stuck here like this!"

"Would you rather endanger your family? The baby?" he asked firmly, his tone clearly leaving no room for argument.

"Of course not!" Padme exclaimed.

"It will only be until I get back," he promised more gently.

"And when will that be?" she sighed.

"Soon--" he glanced over his shoulder as the ship rocked with the impact of a blaster cannon. "I have to go, Padme. Anakin."

The Padawan stepped forward. "Yes, M…sorry."

"I'm glad you're there," Obi Wan told him, smiling a little at the slip.

"I will keep her safe, General," Anakin bowed.

"I know you will."


	26. A Question of the Future

_Obi Wan raised a hand to the back of his neck, bringing it down quickly to swat the buzzing insect. He let the hand drop again and sighed, clomping back toward the fighter which he had left at the mouth of a large cavern. The heat and humidity of the jungle was oppressive and he was tired, mud-caked, and bloody._

_"All right, Arfour, that's the last--" he spun suddenly, lightsaber coming into his hand as he did._

_Padme thought at first that it was the Sith Apprentice he had battled on Devaron, but this girl was thinner, her head shorn completely bald. At her belt, she carried not one but two lightsabers, and she sprung at the former Jedi with stunning speed, both blades humming to life as she streaked through the air._

_Obi Wan leapt back onto the wing of the Delta 7, earning a frightened squeal from Arfour in the process. She followed him up, but he reached out to the Force again, somersaulting over her head. The young woman gave a frustrated growl and attacked again. Their blades clashed, and she drove him back into the cave, where Padme could discern only the continued flash of their weapons. _

_"Who are you?" her husband's voice demanded._

_"I _am_ fear. I am the queen of a blood-soaked planet and an architect of genocide. I have helped to crack the galaxy in half with this war and conquered every enemy I have ever faced—including death. All except for _you," _Asajj Ventress told him in reply. Padme felt a deep, burning pain in her leg and saw Obi Wan's blade waver and fall. "And now I'll kill you. "_

_"No!" screamed Padme. "Anakin!"_

_He rose out of the darkness like a black-masked spectre, the sound of his breath filling the entire cave as his red blade flowed into being. He raised his other hand, flinging Ventress back with the Force. "This one is mine to kill."_

Padme woke with a scream in her throat. She struggled to sit up, burying her face in her hands. For a while, there was no sound in the room but her own breathing, but she knew that it wouldn't be that way for long. She was never alone now. Shaking her head to clear it, she swung her legs out of bed and stood up, hastily drawing on a thick robe.

Obi Wan and Bail had been forced to fight the Transdoshans on Kashyyyk. Though they had finally driven them out, they couldn't prevent continued hostilities in the system and on the Wookiee homeworld itself. Bail and Yarua were forced to return to Coruscant and their duties in the Senate while Obi Wan remained there. After three months, another crisis sent him to Yavin 4, although the exact reasons for the abrupt change of orders was being kept classified. He had spent two months there, by which time Anakin had become a fixture at Padme's apartment on Coruscant.

Master Windu was not pleased with that turn of events, but Anakin insisted that he had given his word to Obi Wan that he would see to Padme's safety himself, and he intended to do so. This declaration sparked a tense confrontation between Master and Padawan, which ended with Windu conceding, but only after warning Anakin in no uncertain terms that he was being tested. When Padme asked the Padawan what his mentor had meant by that, Anakin replied frankly that it probably had to do with his own feelings for her.

She had to admit, though, that whatever he may have felt, Anakin was determined to prove himself equal to his Master's test. He made himself the picture of professionalism and courtesy, which while disconcerting in itself, was a relief to Padme. She even found herself glad of the young Jedi's company when it became apparent that her husband would not be coming back with Bail and she began to fear that he really might not arrive in time to see the baby born. More than a little surprised that Anakin hadn't appeared already, she left the bedroom, and wasn't sure whether to smile or frown when she found him asleep on the couch. The Padawan was lost in the throes of his own dream, and he looked as if he was about to fall on the floor.

"Ani," she called, hurrying over to shake him awake.

"No, no…don't…I won't let you…" he mumbled.

"Anakin," Padme said more forcefully.

He finally opened his eyes. He looked around in confusion and sat up, running his hands through his hair. "Sorry, m'lady. I didn't mean to fall asleep. Captain Typho…"

"Is downstairs in the security center, Ani. Don't worry about it," she said, sinking onto the couch beside him. Both plagued by nightmares, they spent many a sleepless night here or standing on the balcony outside. Usually, they passed the hours in quiet, meaningless conversation, but tonight, Padme didn't feel up to starting the discussion. The baby was restless in her womb, and one hand drifted soothingly over her abdomen.

"Something wrong?" Anakin asked.

"Not really," she shook her head.

"Don't say that. I can tell there is," he inched closer, resting a hand on her shoulder.

She didn't turn to look at him. "I had another nightmare. Something's going to happen to him. The baby feels it too."

"No," Anakin assured her, shaking his head. "That's not possible."

"Are you sure?" she asked, clearly dissatisfied by the statement.

"I've heard a baby might know when its mother's upset," he said in a placating tone. "But to sense danger to Obi Wan…"

"Obi Wan knew I was pregnant before I did," she said with an indulgent smile. "There's something between them. A bond I can't explain."

Anakin nodded, accepting that without comment, and if the silence became suddenly tense, Padme decided to believe that he too was concerned about Obi Wan. After a few minutes, the baby still hadn't settled, and she winced after a particularly hard kick.

"What's wrong?" frowned Anakin.

"The baby's kicking," she explained, smiling to ease the tension.

He didn't relax. "If I were him, I don't know how I could have left you."

"Obi Wan is doing his best to make the Republic safe--for me, for his child. I can't expect him not to do that, Ani. I can't ask him to be less than he is," Padme replied.

"I didn't mean it that way, Padme," Anakin hurried to apologize. "I just meant--I--"

"What?" she asked.

He took a ragged breath. "These nightmares I've been having. They're--different. They're about you. The baby."

"The baby?" Padme cried in alarm. Her arms moved instinctively to hug her abdomen. "What about the baby?"

"It's nothing," he shook his head. "Just dreams."

"Anakin. Please," she said, laying a hand determinedly on his arm.

He turned away, staring down at the floor as he explained, "One of you dies. I can't tell which. The dreams aren't clear."

"No," Padme shook her head vehemently. In her heart, though, she had already begun to sense the truth.

Anakin looked up, twisting to face her again. "I won't let you die, Padme. I won't!"

"It's not me," Padme told him, her voice a barely audible whisper. She closed her eyes as tears began to form, but didn't stop them, and she felt Anakin's hand move to brush her cheek. She jerked back, her eyes popping open again. "Ani, I need him home."

"Padme, don't ask me…" he pleaded.

"I have to. I'm afraid _he'll _die if you don't go. I can't lose both of them," she said.

"I can't lose you," he insisted. "You could be wrong."

"If I'm wrong, there's nothing you can do for me. Nothing except bring him home. Anakin, please," she asked again.

He grit his teeth, his youthful features contorting with pain and conflict. Padme felt a moment of indecision. She knew what she was asking him. He had given his word to protect her; his Master was using the entire affair as a test--probably to determine his future as a Jedi after his disobedient involvement in the Battle of Geonosis and all the subsequent problems he'd had in regard to Obi Wan's departure. Windu was not a man to be trifled with, and the Jedi Council respected his opinions and authority.

Finally, he stood up again and nodded. "I'll bring him. I promise."

-----

"And now I'll kill you, Jedi," his adversary said with a grim smirk.

"I don't think so," shot a familiar voice behind them.

She whirled around, and Obi Wan breathed a sigh of relief, reaching for his fallen lightsaber as Anakin began to engage the girl. It sailed into his hand and he reached back with his free hand, clutching the wall behind him to pull himself up.

"Stay there," Anakin told him calmly through the clash of the blades. "I've got it under control."

He was, in actuality, only holding his own. Obi Wan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Because you look like you could use some help…"

"Well, do you mind if I borrow that?" Anakin asked, swiftly turning to avoid a slash across his chest. He reached toward Obi Wan with his free hand, wiggling his fingers in a silent request for the other light saber.

"What? Oh--here," he nodded, tossing it toward the Padawan.

"Thanks," Anakin said.

The banter ended then as the tempo of the duel began to increase. Anakin and the girl fought their way back outside, and Obi Wan limped out after them, but by the time he cleared the cave, the pair had vanished into the jungle. He started after them as quickly as he could, following the sound of their weapons that could still be heard through the trees. Twice he tripped, and once he landed face-first in the mud. By the time he had pulled himself up from the ground again, the sound of the combatants' lightsabers had faded into the distance. Obi Wan sighed and pushed on anyway, honing in on Anakin's Force presence to guide him.

He felt that presence suddenly moving in his direction and stepped back, unsure whether Anakin would be alone or still engaged with Ventress. Her presence was nearby as well, but it was less familiar to him, and he couldn't quite tell where she was. Grabbing a low hanging branch to hoist himself into a tree, he waited calmly, prepared to give his young friend a hand in the event that their enemy was still with him.

Anakin appeared alone, though, and craned his neck to look up into the tree. "What are you doing up there?"

"Oh, just admiring the view," Obi Wan replied smartly. "Where's the girl?"

"I lost her. She had a fighter hidden in the trees out there and gave me the slip," Anakin replied.

Obi Wan swung his leg over the branch on which he was sitting and let himself drop to the ground, cushioning the impact with the Force. He staggered anyway, and Anakin hurriedly stepped forward to steady him.

"You all right?" the Padawan asked.

"Yes, fine," Obi Wan nodded. "I've never known you to give up a chase so easily."

"Yes, well, in this case the circumstances were a bit unusual," Anakin related.

"What do you mean, unusual?" frowned Obi Wan.

"Padme had a nightmare. She asked me to come get you. I promised her I'd bring you back safely," explained Anakin.

"You promised _Padme_? You mean the Council didn't send you?" Obi Wan demanded.

"Why would…?"

"Nevermind," snapped Obi Wan. "You're telling me you disobeyed orders--no one knows you're here?"

"Well, I didn't exactly disobey orders. Master Windu already didn't like the fact that I was handling Padme's security," Anakin said.

"And he doesn't know you're here. Does he?" admonished Obi Wan.

"Look, I--"

"No!" Obi Wan suddenly gasped, his hand moving instinctively to clutch his chest as a wave of pain and terror reached him through the Force.

Anakin's arm tightened around him, and the Padawan cried urgently, "What's wrong? Padme?"

"And the baby," Obi Wan drew an unsteady breath. "Anakin, we have to go. Quickly."


	27. Destiny's Way

Typho almost didn't let her attend the Loyalist Committee's audience with Palpatine. It took the combined efforts of Padme, Bail, and Mon Mothma to convince him, and even then the captain was far from happy. The audience itself was largely uneventful. Though the Committee members were all concerned about the Chancellor's ever-increasing executive powers, they also desired to maintain an amicable relationship with the head of state. As such, little was accomplished, but Padme felt strongly that it was a vital part of their responsibility to their constituents to at least voice their opposition to Palpatine's usurping of Senatorial power.

As she stepped through the door into the hall, she was so frustrated with the wasted morning and with Palaptine himself that she almost didn't hear Typho order her back. He leapt in front of her the instant before the innocent-seeming protocol droid exploded. She felt Dorme pull her further backward in a futile attempt to keep her out of harm's way, but Typho himself was thrown back toward him in a powerful rush of heat, flame and flying shrapnel. His body collided with hers, and she screamed as she felt a hot, jagged shard of metal pierce her abdomen.

Through the haze of pain and terror, she heard blaster fire and struggled to see what was going on. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, and she thought for a confused moment that it was Obi Wan, but the voice wasn't his.

"Padme, can you hear me?" the voice asked. It was familiar…but whose?

"Bail?" she realized suddenly. Then a fresh wave of panic struck and she tried to pull away. "Bail, the baby!"

"Be still," he told her firmly.

She shook her head weakly. "No, I--Anakin's dream--Anakin…my baby…"

-----

Anakin had borrowed Padme's starship for the unplanned rescue, and the two men now sat tense and silent in the cockpit. Ventress hadn't disappeared but lay in wait for them just outside the star system, forcing Anakin to play a dangerous game of cat and mouse in the unarmed craft until they finally appeared to have lost her for good. Now, the Padawan's hands moved lightly, expertly over the nav controls, jockeying for position in Coruscant's thickly congested approach lanes. News reports were already filtering over the open com channel, but they did nothing to ease the tightness in Obi Wan's chest.

Senator Padme Amidala Kenobi was evacuated from Chancellor Palpatine's office yesterday and rushed into emergency surgery after an explosion took the life of her head of security and two bodyguards. Following the detonation of a bomb which had been smuggled into the Executive Office inside a protocol droid, Senator Kenobi's remaining security engaged three armed bounty hunters who had been disguised as Senatorial Aides, while the Supreme Chancellor remained safely hidden under his desk. A subsequent investigation spearheaded by Senators Bail Organa and Mon Mothma traced the assassination attempt back to a member of Senator Kenobi's own security team, who appeared to be under some form of mind-control. There was no word yet on the condition of the senator or her unborn child.

"Are they…?" Anakin broke off, shaking his head.

Obi Wan sharply toward him. He could sense the fear and guilt that raged through the Padawan, but he was in no condition to admonish Anakin now. He also, surprisingly, thought he detected compassion.

"Not yet," he whispered.

"I'll get us down there," Anakin promised. "I'm trying to find another approach lane, something less heavily used."

Obi Wan nodded, unable to do more.

It seemed hours later by the time they actually set down on the landing platform. Still leaning part of his weight on Anakin's shoulder, Obi Wan hobbled down the ramp, where they were met by Master Windu. They had contacted the temple after losing Ventress, and Anakin had apologized to his Master, who promised him rather pointedly that they would be discussing the matter upon his return to Coruscant.

It was Obi Wan who spoke first, though, quietly asking the Jedi, "Has there been any news?"

"I'm afraid that Padme was taken back into surgery an hour ago," Windu replied in a subdued tone.

"And the baby?" Obi Wan pressed, willfully forcing his lungs to work, commanding his mouth to form the words despite the palpable weight that settled over him.

"He is stable, at least for the moment," the Master told him as the group began to move away from the ship.

Little else was said. Anakin hailed them a taxi, which Mace directed to the hospital where Padme had been taken. Once there, they were escorted into a huge, white-walled room lined with incubation units, where a med droid brought them all the way to the far end.

There was nothing of the Jedi Master in Obi Wan Kenobi as took in the sight of his newborn son. All the tension and worry that he had been neither able or willing to dismiss on the trip back from Yavin 4 finally broke. In a rush of relief and happiness, tears streamed his face, and stepped away from Anakin to press his palm against the plasteel barrier separating them. Was it his imagination that he sensed recognition?

"I'm told that if Senator Kenobi had been struck a centimeter lower, he would have been killed," the Too-Onebee unit remarked.

"The Force is strong with him," Obi Wan said tightly.

"Indeed," Windu agreed with a deep nod.

The words seemed to belie themselves, though, because almost as soon as they were spoken, an alarm began to sound. Obi Wan's eyes shot to the wall above the incubator, where a panel of indicator lights displayed a readout on the baby's vital functions.

"What's happening?" he asked in confusion as both heart rate and respiration suddenly became erratic.

"I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to go," the med droid told him briskly.

Several others rushed in around them, and Obi Wan stepped hastily back. The droids closed in, cutting off his view, but the monitor showed his son's spiking heart rate slow…drop…sputter, all in the passage of a few agonizing seconds.

"No!" Anakin cried out. "Not both of them!"

"Anakin," Master Windu admonished sharply.

The Padawan paid no attention, and Obi Wan turned to watch as his eyes closed and he stretched out his hand, pointing his first two fingers toward the incubator. Both Obi Wan and Windu tensed as they realized what the young man was attempting. The technique was a modification on Force choke, something rarely, if ever used by Jedi Knights, but instead of using the Force to close the windpipe, Anakin was telekinetically massaging the baby's heart.

"Anakin," his Master said again, his voice low but imbued with a clear warning. He recognized that this was a desperate act. Anakin was not a Jedi Healer and although phenomenally strong in the Force, he lacked the control necessary to perform such a feat on an infant heart.

Except the alarm stopped wailing. Obi Wan's eyes moved back to the monitor, where he saw the baby's heart start to beat again.

"No," Obi Wan barely breathed the word. "Master Windu, look."

"It's working…" the Jedi said in amazement.

"Careful, Anakin," Obi Wan encouraged. "Gently."

The Padawan didn't reply. A bead of sweat formed on his temple, running down the side of his face. The droids moved back again, aware that the Jedi were somehow doing what they could not. The entire group stood silently, aware only of the soft electronic rhythm of the heart monitor and its pulsing red light.

Finally, Anakin lowered his arm. He slowly opened his eyes and drew in a breath, looking hopefully from the incubator to the lights above it and then to the two men beside him. Obi Wan let out the breath he'd been holding and looked back him with a stunned laugh.

"You did it, Anakin!" he declared. "You saved my son!"

-----

Padme was aware of the people in the room before she even opened her eyes. No one was speaking, but she could feel their eyes on her, feel the thick tension in the air. A strong hand held hers, and she focused on it as she struggled to pull herself fully awake. The familiar fingers, calloused from years of lightsaber practice, tightened on hers, and she felt his other hand brush her forehead.

"She's awake," he murmured softly. "Padme?"

She turned toward the sound of his voice, wincing at the pain that the movement sent lancing through her. "Obi Wan? What…?" she trailed off as she opened her eyes to take in the other concerned faces gathered around her. Her parents and Sola hovered on either side of him. Beyond them, Anakin stood with Masters Windu and Yoda, his face dark and troubled with guilt. On the other side of the bed was Bail Organa--

_Bail!_ she thought with a jolt of panicked realization.

"Obi Wan, the baby!" she cried as memories flooded back.

"He's all right," he quickly assured her. "Anakin saved him."

"What?" she stared up at him in confusion, hardly daring to believe the words.

Her husband nodded. "He would have died if Anakin hadn't been there, but he's fine now."

"Where is he? I want to hold him!" Padme said urgently.

"I'll get him," Obi Wan immediately promised. He gently kissed her and got to his feet, hurriedly exiting the room.

Padme watched him go, then her eyes turned to the Padawan, who was now staring determinedly at the floor. "Ani?"

He came forward slowly and didn't actually look up at her until he reached the bed. "I'm sorry, Padme. If I'd done my duty and stayed here, none of this would have happened."

"You did what I asked you to do," she reminded him, smiling. Then she reached for his hand, adding firmly, "And you saved my baby's life."

He nodded, then looked self consciously down at the floor again until Obi Wan returned. Anakin stepped hastily back as his former Master came over to them. Padme wondered briefly if the two of them had had another disagreement, then her attention was riveted by the tiny, blue-wrapped bundle that her husband placed in her arms.

She couldn't breathe as he quietly moved the blanket away from the baby's face. There was a soft coo of recognition, and Padme felt warm tears begin to run down her cheeks. She raised a shaking finger to caress the perfect softness of his cheek, and the baby turned his head, immediately latching onto her fingertip and beginning to suckle.

"Oh!" Padme laughed through her tears. "Are you hungry?"

"He'd better be hungry; he's half Naberrie," Obi Wan laughed as well, giving Padme's mother a wink. Then both new parents looked at each other, coming to the same realization as he said it. They hadn't picked a name before Obi Wan left for Kashyyyk, and communications since then had been sporadic at best.

"What are we going to call him?" Padme asked softly, still filled with the incredulous wonder of holding their child in her arms.

Obi Wan looked down at their son for a quiet moment, then his eyes shifted back to hers. "I think there's only one name for him."

She nodded immediate agreement. Obi Wan grinned and bent to take the baby in his arms again. He walked over to Anakin, who had moved back to stand with the other Jedi, and the Padawan went pale and wide eyed with shock.

"Huh?" he stammered, looking awkwardly from Obi Wan to the child in his arms.

"His name is Anakin," Obi Wan explained solemnly, shifting his son into the Padawan's arms and showing him how to support the infant's head. "Anakin Kenobi."


	28. Through Another's Eyes

Qui-Gon Jinn stood with a silent smile beside Obi Wan as he took his sleeping son from the crib and knelt to allow Master Yoda a proper view. Padme stood in the doorway of what was now little Ani's nursery but didn't come inside. The new family had been together at Varyinko for about three weeks, but Yoda had not seen Ani since the day he was born, and his visit now had taken them by surprise. Qui-Gon sensed conflict in the young mother; she was both honored by the dimutive Master's interest in their son and apprehensive.

Yoda peered quietly down at the infant for several minutes, and finally Ani stirred and opened his eyes. He blinked calmly back at the unexpected sight of the Jedi, then turned his head to regard his father with a look that was at once perplexed and content. Obi Wan grinned back with such unabashed delight that Qui-Gon almost didn't recognize his former pupil.

"Strong is the Force with you, young Kenobi," Yoda said, addressing Ani directly. "A Jedi Knight, shall you be. Like your father."

Both parents tensed, and Obi Wan looked sharply up into the Master's large eyes. "Master Yoda, we are honored to have you here, but Padme and I have made no decision to send Ani to the Temple."

Yoda gazed steadily back at him. "Yours the decision must be. But if you seek to hold this child too tightly, Obi Wan, lose him you shall. He must learn to serve the will of the Force. Train him myself, I will."

"I will…consider it, Master," said Obi Wan, looking down again at the child in his arms. He knew that what Yoda was offering was extraordinary. As Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Yoda had a hand in the training of every student in the temple. He had trained Obi Wan before Qui-Gon had taken him as a Padawan learner. What the Master had just said, though, implied something else. He was promising to train Ani as his own Padawan, and Yoda had not taken an apprentice in many years. Furthermore, Ani was still an infant. Sensitivity to the Force was not a guarantee that a child could succeed as a Jedi Knight. Most younglings, in fact, were not chosen as Padawans and entered the Jedi Service Corps around age thirteen, where they learned to serve the Order in some other capacity. Obi Wan knew Master Yoda well enough to understand that the venerated teacher would not make such a statement unless he meant it, unless he believed that Ani's training was indeed the will of the Force.

"Obi Wan, he must be trained," Qui-Gon said quietly, though he knew that his protégé would not hear him. "The Force has saved him twice from death. The Dark Side is growing stronger. He will be needed."

"But I can make you no promise this time," finished Obi Wan.

"So be it," Yoda replied with a deep nod. "Await your decision at the temple, I shall.

"Thank you, Master," Obi Wan said sincerely.

"See you again, I shall, Anakin," the Master murmured, then turned to go.

Obi Wan got to his feet and followed Yoda toward the door, where Padme moved aside to let the Master pass. Yoda looked up at her solemnly and laid a hand on her arm in an uncharacteristic gesture of affection. "Fear for him, do not, Padme. Always your son, shall this boy be."

"Thank you, Master Yoda," she smiled, walking with him to the door of the family's apartment, where one of the servants was waiting to show him the rest of the way. When the door was closed behind him, she strode back to her husband and lifted the baby from his arms. Then she turned silently and walked over to sit on the couch beside the fireplace.

"Padme--" Obi Wan began as he walked over to sit beside her.

"I don't want him to go to the temple," she interrupted, though she made her tone purposefully light and kept her attention focused on the baby. She held her forearms in front of her, elbows resting against her breast, and supported Ani's head in the palms of her hands.

"Then he won't," Obi Wan assured her, leaning over to pick up the carved japor pendant that Padme was wearing and dangle it before the baby.

Qui-Gon sighed. He could well understand Padme's attachment to the boy. After what had happened to her in the Chancellor's office, she had been warned that carrying another child could be fatal. This meant that Ani would, in all probability be the couple's only child, and the Naberries were as family-oriented as they were inclined toward public service. Still, Qui-Gon knew that Obi Wan _did_ hope to see Ani trained as a Jedi, and he was sure that his old Padawan could see as well as he or Yoda could that the Force had spared the baby for a reason.

Padme looked up at her husband in surprise. "Are you saying you don't want him to?"

"I won't tell you that there isn't a part of me that would like him to know the ways of the Force. It's part of who I am. Ani's my son, and I would like to share that with him," admitted Obi Wan.

"Then you teach him," Padme suggested.

"I can't," Obi Wan replied with a quick shake of his head.

"Why not?" frowned Padme. "You don't have to ask the Council's permission anymore. He's your son."

"And that makes me too close. I'm his father, Padme. I want to be his father, not his Jedi Master," explained Obi Wan.

Qui-Gon stroked his beard and gave a short, approving nod. Ani, annoyed with the sudden lack of attention from both parents, whimpered in protest. Qui-Gon quickly moved closer to the couch, placing himself in the baby's line of sight behind Padme's shoulder.

"Ani, look," he called, waving.

The baby grinned happily in response, and the oblivious parents continued their discussion.

"Can't you be both?" Padme asked.

"No," Obi Wan shook his head.

"Qui-Gon was," she pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm not Qui-Gon," Obi Wan replied. Qui-Gon himself glanced toward his former apprentice with a touch of surprise. There was always an element of parental responsibility involved in training a Jedi Padawan. He had always regarded Obi Wan as a son, but he hadn't expected his former student to so readily acknowledge the depth of his own attachment.

"I know you're not. I didn't mean it like that," Padme promised soothingly. "I just want us to be honest--with ourselves _and_ each other. You have as much of a say in this decision as I do."

"I want what you want. I want to raise him here on Naboo. I want him to play with Pooja and Ryoo, and go swimming in the lake, and ride Paddy's speeder boat…" Obi Wan trailed off, turning toward the windows with a far away look. He pushed himself to his feet and walked toward them, continuing. "I want him to grow up happy and safe. I want to _be_ here. I want this war to end."

He stopped before the windows and crossed his arms, staring sadly out at the setting sun. Ani began to fuss, sensitive to the shift in his parents' emotions. Qui-Gon hurried around the couch and knelt beside Padme. He leaned over to catch the baby's gaze, and Padme looked curiously down at them.

"What are you looking at, Ani?" she asked with an adoring smile.

Obi Wan turned and walked back toward them. He couldn't resist a smile of his own. "What _are_ you looking at?" he wondered, but the baby's attention had already reverted to himself and Padme.

"My mother says babies just look at everything, but sometimes I'd _swear_ he's…" she trailed off, shaking her head.

"Everything's new to him," Obi Wan shrugged, sitting down again.

"Parents," Qui-Gon muttered, running a hand over his face.

"Tell me what else you want," Padme asked softly, inviting Obi Wan to continue what he'd been saying before thoughts of the war intruded on their moment of normalcy.

"Well…when he grows up, I want him to find something that he _loves _to do. I don't care what it is--whether he follows you into politics, or becomes a teacher like your father, or even if he wants to fly around the galaxy selling second-rate droid parts…"

"As long as he doesn't want you to come with him?" Padme teased.

"Exactly," Obi Wan nodded.

"So, you'd let him do something like that forever?" she asked.

"No, not forever. Someday, he'll have to come home. Find someone who loves him. Get married. Make me a grandfather," Obi Wan said, hiding a smile.

"Aren't you rushing things a bit?" Padme raised an eyebrow jokingly.

"What do you mean?" Obi Wan asked, feigning innocence.

"Well, shouldn't he at least have _hair_ before we start planning the wedding?" she asked.

"Oh. Yes. Hair would be helpful."

------

He had a flaming shock of bright orange hair, which Qui-Gon assumed that he had inherited from some unknown ancestor of Obi Wan's, but there was nothing in him of the stereotypical redheaded temperament. In fact, Ani was without a doubt the most placid and even-tempered eight-month-old human that Qui-Gon had ever seen. At the moment, he had just thrown his favorite toy--a foamy blue insect with well-gnawed wings which had once been multicolored and quite attractive; a long nose that was best used for pulling and stretching; and eyes made of a silver mesh that was apparently delightful to run over one's tongue. The bug--which the elder Anakin had aptly named Watto before giving it to the baby--flew straight across the room, resulting a happy shriek from little Ani before it landed with a thump. It took about six seconds for the baby to realize that his prized possession was unable to return to him for a second flight.

He promptly dropped onto his padded backside and let out a tearful wail. However, when no response was forthcoming from either parent, he commendably decided to stop crying and set about trying to rescue the toy himself. First, he tried throwing some other toys, apparently in hopes that one of them would be able to rescue its fallen companions. This proved unsuccessful, and he sat down again, considering the situation with a deep frown of concentration. Qui-Gon, who was as interested in seeing what the boy would come up with next as he was in helping retrieve the toy, chose not to reveal himself for the time being. After some thought, Ani wriggled onto his stomach and twisted his head to one side, reaching a tiny arm through the bars of the old fashioned crib. His tongue jutted unconsciously from his mouth and his face contorted with the effort of trying to reach across the room, but nothing happened. He let out a frustrated grunt and smacked the mattress, finally understanding that he could not reach that far, but he wasn't ready to give up. His arm continued to stretch toward the toy, fingers moving and flexing in an effort to gain some added reach. In another few minutes, though, he realized that no amount of stretching his fingers was going to help. He withdrew his arm and sat up again, staring at the toy in deep contemplation. He knew that there was a way to reach it, Qui-Gon sensed with a smile. There was a way to make it fly--but how?

"Pick it up, Ani," Qui-Gon said as he appeared beside the crib.

With a happy shriek of recognition, he seized hold of the bars and pulled himself up again. Then he gave the bars a shake and shrieked again, looking hopefully at Qui-Gon in a tacit plea for the toy. Qui-Gon grinned.

"Pick it up," he said again, reaching his own hand toward the prize. "You can do it, Ani. Stretch out. Make it come to you."

Little Ani blinked at him, puzzled.

Qui-Gon tilted his head toward the toy and offered an encouraging smile. "You can do it," he repeated.

The baby had no reason to doubt the statement. He hadn't yet learned that what Qui-Gon was telling him should have been impossible. He also had not learned to intellectualize or to ask "how" such a thing would be accomplished. He had not forgotten that the Force was his friend. So, he simply let go of the crib and reached out, as comfortably and naturally as he had stretched his fingers a moment before.

"Good boy," smiled Qui-Gon as the insect twitched and moved a few inches across the floor. "Now pick it up. Make it fly, Ani."

Ani gurgled and grinned, and with a happy squeal, lifted it into the air. It hovered where it was for a few seconds and then sailed haltingly toward the crib, dropping and rising as it moved. Obi Wan appeared before it had floated half way across the room. As soon as Ani realized that he was there, it dropped again, thumping softly back to the floor. He naturally expected his father to bring it to him and chose the path of least resistance. Still, Qui-Gon's smile didn't fade as his former apprentice crossed his arms and walked over to the toy.

"Did you lose Watto?" he asked. "Can you pick him up again?"

It didn't move, and Obi Wan didn't press the matter. Qui-Gon hadn't expected him to. Obi Wan was reserved; he tended to take a traditionalist viewpoint, and although he couldn't chastise young Ani for doing what came naturally to him, he also wouldn't actively encourage the boy to use the Force. He bent over and picked up the toy himself, carrying it back to the crib.

Ani slid onto his bottom again, then laid down, apparently tired of standing now. He reached up plaintively with both hands and his father smiled, handing him the toy. The baby grinned and held it up in front of himself, studying it intently. Obi Wan folded his arms on the top of the crib rail watched his son with equal intensity.

"Do you want to be Master Yoda's Padawan?" he asked, allowing a deep weariness into his tone which he seldom showed even to Padme. "You're growing up so fast. Every time I come home, you're bigger and stronger. I'll have to go away again soon, and I don't know how long I'll be gone this time. I don't want to hold you back. I'm not afraid to lose you, either--not if Yoda can help you become something more than I can show you how to be--but I can't send you to the temple. It would break your mother's heart."

Ani didn't answer, having no idea what his father was saying. He did, however, set the toy down and gaze quietly back at Obi Wan, glad of the sound of his voice. Qui-Gon knew that boy didn't understand the sadness he felt in his father. Ani didn't know why Obi Wan never stayed the way that Padme did, nor did he realize that there was anything unusual about the situation. For all he knew, fathers were supposed to come and go, but he was happiest with this man close to him, and he realized that his mother never seemed quite so bright and warm when Obi Wan was gone.

"She tells me that there are other things you can do, other ways that you can serve the Republic, and she's right," Obi Wan went on.

"Yes, she is," admitted Qui-Gon beside him. Anakin Kenobi was not like Anakin Skywalker; he was not a slave with no hope for any other life. Padme was not Shmi; she would not be faced with the painful necessity of sending her child away in order to give him the kind of future that she could not provide. Still, Qui-Gon knew that this boy, too must learn the ways of the Force. More was at stake here than the question of service to the Galactic Republic. He almost wished that he could reveal himself to Obi Wan, but the time for that had not yet come. Perhaps it would not come at all. The future had not been decided.

-----

"Grandma," Jobal Naberrie pronounced slowly. "Come on, Ani. Grand…ma. Grandma."

"Mom, he hasn't even really said 'Daddy' yet," Padme reminded her mother with an indulgent smile from the kitchen table.

Jobal set her grandson on the counter in front of her, leaning down so that they were eye to eye. "That's all right," she told her daughter without turning. "He certainly knows who Obi Wan is when he sees the holodiscs."

"Da!" one-year-old Ani cried happily at the mention of his father's name.

"No, not Da," smiled Jobal. "Grandma. Grandma."

"You're not going to give up, are you?" Padme laughed.

"Pooja said 'Grandma' before she even had her first birthday," declared Jobal.

Neither woman was aware of Qui-Gon Jinn, who appeared behind Jobal and grinned over her shoulder at Ani as another round of "Grandma" pronunciations began. Ani's eyes lit up at the sight of the Jedi Spirit and he shrieked excitedly, holding out his arms.

"What?" Jobal smiled. "No, I'll pick you up in a minute. Now you say Grandma for me. Come on. Grandma…Grandma."

"Qui-Gon," the Jedi said mischievously. "Qui-Gon…Qui-Gon."

"Ki-Ga!" Ani repeated triumphantly.

Jobal frowned, turning questioningly to Padme. "What did he say?"

-----

"Aunt Padme, Uncle Obi Wan!" Ryoo called, racing out of the house as the couple came slowly up the street. Ani toddled between them, one hand clasped in each of theirs. Qui-Gon walked casually behind them, remaining invisible even to Ani so as not to disrupt the family's happy reunion.

"Hi, Ryoo!" Ani called, though he'd seen his cousin little more than an hour before, when he and Padme had left to pick up Obi Wan. Qui-Gon smiled affectionately, thinking not for the first time that he was glad this child had inherited more of his mother's cheerfulness than her temper.

"Hi, Ani," she smiled, bending to heft the two-year-old into her arms.

"Where Pooja?" he wanted to know as he wrapped his chubby arms around her neck.

"She's playing at Jev Narran's," explained Ryoo.

"We go too?" Ani asked hopefully.

"I don't know," Ryoo said with a questioning look toward the boy's parents.

"Maybe later," allowed Padme, fondly stroking her son's hair.

"How are you, Ryoo?" Obi Wan asked his niece.

"I'm fine," she replied, tilting her head up to study his face. "You look tired."

"It was a long flight home," he smiled.

She nodded, accepting the explanation though she was well old enough to understand that there were other reasons for the general to be weary. "We miss you."

"I've missed you all too," Obi Wan told her.

Padme slid an arm around his back. "Why don't we go inside? I'm sure Mom and Dad can't wait to see you either."

"Grandma's making lunch," Ryoo added.

"Lead the way," Obi Wan readily agreed.

Qui-Gon followed the family inside, where he leaned against the wall by the door and watched as Padme's family welcomed his former apprentice home from the war. No, the Jedi Master corrected himself with a slight shake of his head. Not _Padme's family._ They were Obi Wan's family now, too, and they were good for him. It had taken Qui-Gon some time to accept Obi Wan's resignation from the Jedi Order. Despite his own differences with the Council, he had ultimately believed that change was best accomplished from within the Order--but he could not deny that the Force had brought them to Tatooine as much for Obi Wan and Padme as for Anakin Skywalker. Padme had helped Obi Wan discover a kind of compassion in himself that Qui-Gon had been unable to teach, even by example. Her family's acceptance had taught him a greater appreciation for small matters, for the every day, when his natural tendency was to focus on a larger picture. They had compelled him to a deeper sensitivity and connection with the Living Force, when his own nature led him to be more attentive to the Unifying Force. They helped to make him a better Jedi, more balanced, and Ani was the realization of that balance.

It wasn't until after lunch that Jobal remembered the package that had arrived from Coruscant while Padme was gone. She hurried to get it and brought it back to Obi Wan, who was still talking with Padme and Ruwee at the table. Ani and Ryoo were playing on the floor nearby and paying no attention to the adults whatsoever.

"This came for Ani today," Jobal said, handing it to Obi Wan.

"When?" asked Padme with a slight frown.

"Me?" at the sound of his name, the two-year old lost interest in the game he was playing with his cousin and climbed to his feet. He ran noisily over to his father, giving every appearance that he was going to collide with the general's leg, but he halted with uncanny precision, his dimpled hands coming to rest on Obi Wan's knee.

"Yes, you," Padme grinned. Then she looked curiously at the sealed container in her husband's hand. "Wonder what it is?"

"Uncle Anakin," Ani told her.

She frowned, saying nothing until Obi Wan had opened it and let a familiar braid drop into his hand. She blinked, looking from her husband to her son and back again, and Qui-Gon's mouth turned up in a half smile. He moved off the wall, walking casually over to squat beside the toddler. Ani glanced at him, aware of his presence now, and he raised a finger to his lips, giving a conspiratorial wink.

"Do you know what this is?" Obi Wan asked, drawing back the boy's attention with a grin.

"Padawan hair," Ani replied, pointing a fat finger to indicate the side of his own face, where a Padawan braid might have dangled.

"That's right," nodded Obi Wan. "And do you know what it means when a Padawan braid is cut off?"

Ani nodded vigorously, then stopped, frowned deeply and shook his head. "What?"

Obi Wan stifled a laugh. "It means that your Uncle Anakin is now a Knight of the Republic. Knighting is a very special moment in the life of a Jedi, Ani. And you have been entrusted with a very great honor. You must keep this safe."

"I will!" he promised.

Grinning again, Obi Wan reached down to pluck the boy off the ground and stood up. "I think I know a place we can keep it," he said, gesturing with a motion of his head for Padme to follow him toward their bedroom. Qui-Gon went along as well, leaning on the doorframe to watch as Obi Wan stood his son on the bed and carefully laid Anakin's Padawan braid in the boy's hands. Padme perched on the edge of the bed with little Ani, keeping one arm lightly around him while Obi Wan went to the other side of the room and took a locked plasteel box down from a shelf in the corner.

Now Qui-Gon walked over to the boy as well, sitting on his other side to watch as Obi Wan walked back and keyed the lock combination. The top of the box slid open, and inside lay the hilt of Qui-Gon's own lightsaber, which Obi-Wan had used to defeat a Sith Lord in Theed thirteen years ago. Ani's eyes lit up in recognition of a weapon so similar to the ones that his father and uncle still carried. Obi Wan lifted it reverently out and handed the box to Padme, then thumbed the activation switch.

The green blade hummed to life, and Ani's mouth formed a silent "Oooooooo" as a practiced motion of his father's wrist sent it in a graceful arc. Qui-Gon's smile became at once wistful and sad as he watched his former student. Then he turned to the boy.

"Someday it may still be yours, Ani," he promised. "You must use it wisely."

"Mine?" Ani asked wonderingly.

Obi Wan gave him an indulgent smile and switched the saber off again. "This belonged to _my _Jedi Master," he explained.

"Qui-Gon!" Ani grinned.

"Oh. Did your mother tell you about Qui-Gon?" Obi Wan asked, shooting a questioning glance at his wife.

"No…" said Ani impishly, letting his eyes slide meaningfully toward the Force Ghost beside him. Obi Wan followed his son's gaze, his brow furrowing. Qui-Gon covered his face with his hand and sighed.

"Maybe Mom said something," Padme shrugged. "You know how she loves the comlink story."

"What comlink story?" demanded Qui-Gon, giving the pair a sudden, suspicious glare.

"Not to mention the hair story," smirked Obi Wan

"Hair?" asked Qui-Gon.

"Oh, don't start that again," Padme laughed.

"I'm not starting a thing, darling. Merely stating a fact. Your mother likes that story," Obi Wan said dryly.

"Except that Qui-Gon wasn't even in the room when that happened," Padme pointed out.

"When what happened?" Qui-Gon asked. He was again tempted to reveal himself, but knew that there were more important concerns than whatever Padme and Obi Wan might have done behind his back. For the moment, he was here to watch over Ani, to give the boy whatever subtle guidance he could since his parents still refused to send him to Yoda for proper training.

"Of course he wasn't," Obi Wan teased his wife. "And it was a good thing."

"Very funny," Padme replied.

Qui-Gon sighed again. "I think it's better I don't know."

Ani giggled at the Jedi Spirit's discomfiture. Qui-Gon gave him a mock-scowl of warning. His parents, assuming that he was laughing at their banter, turned to look at him again. Obi Wan nodded.

"See, Ani likes the story too," he smirked.

Padme raised her eyes to the ceiling. Then she looked pointedly from her husband to her son, then to the box in her hands. "I think I sense a loss of focus," she quipped.

"Very funny, darling," Obi Wan replied. Then he gave their son a wink, and carefully laid Qui-Gon's lightsaber back in its resting place. "Now you, son."

Ani nodded and let the braid fall inside as well. It fluttered down, landing beside the saber hilt, and he studied both objects for a long time. Then he looked questioningly up at Padme, his expression clearly asking, "Is that it?"

"Do you want to help Daddy lock them up again?" she grinned.

This brought another nod from the toddler. Obi Wan gave him a new smile--a private smile, one he had only shared with Anakin Skywalker, and that far more rarely. It was the smile of a father and his son. Anakin Kenobi returned it freely and openly, in a way that Skywalker sadly could never do, and the elder guided the young fingers through the lock combination, safeguarding the legacy of the Jedi Order: a Padawan's braid and a Master's lightsaber.

-----

For little Ani, it was the first time that both his father and his Uncle Anakin were home from the war. He was now three years old, and Qui-Gon did not need the Force to tell him how proud the boy was as he looked at the two of them. His cousin Pooja, now a member of the Apprentice Legislature, had also gone with the family to the Lake Country, and another time, Ani would have been her most devoted companion, ready to tell anyone in the family that Pooja was going to be Queen like his mother had been. At the moment, though, his all of his esteem and interest was reserved for the returning war heroes. To him, they were not simply names chanted by other children, faces splashed across the HoloNet, _Skywalker and Kenobi,_ the Jedi Generals. They were his.

He saw them rarely, his father during short, usually interrupted visits to Naboo and Anakin only on the infrequent occasion that both the charismatic Jedi and Ani's mother, Padme were both on Coruscant. He knew them through the things his mother said and through holotransmissions that seemed to become more and more garbled. His most prized possessions were a collection of holodiscs sent home from the front lines, which now resided in the box with Qui-Gon's lightsaber and Anakin's Padawan braid.

The boy did not understand the long and troubled history between the two men. He didn't know that beneath the hard won friendship that they had re-formed after his birth, there still simmered deep, unresolved tensions, one of which happened to be the media's insistence on labeling them "the Jedi Generals" despite the fact that Obi Wan's resignation from the Order to marry Padme was also a well-known fact often exploited for dramatic effect by journalists. He did not see that being thrown together again so often following Anakin's knighting had been a difficult strain on that friendship even though both men were honestly glad that they had reason to be "on the same side" again. Little Ani saw the best in them--their heroism, their wit, Obi Wan's wisdom and Anakin's seemingly boundless energy, their devotion to each other, and most importantly their devotion to him. In fact, thought Qui-Gon as he walked along the sandy beach behind the trio, Ani saw them much the same way that he did.

There could not have been a prouder boy in all the galaxy as he walked between the two of them, and though Qui-Gon knew that he must be able to sense his father's sadness and worry, he was content to be here now, certain that his Jedi Generals would soon handle whatever the problem was.

"Ani, we have something important to talk to you about," Obi Wan said at last.

Ani craned his neck to look up at him, discerning what Obi Wan was about to say before he spoke. "You leaving 'gain?"

"Yes, we are, son," Obi Wan nodded. "We're going to look for Asajj Ventress."

"Why?" Ani's voice trembled.

"Good question," the elder Anakin muttered under his breath.

Obi Wan caught it and looked toward the young Knight with stark disapproval. He shook his head in warning, but the words were already half out of Anakin's mouth.

"I still think it's a wild bantha chase. I told you, I killed her on Coruscant," he said flatly, though this time he managed to keep the outrage out of his tone for little Ani's sake.

"Anakin, we've been through this," Obi Wan reminded him sharply.

"Yes, we have," nodded the Knight. "I promised Padme that I would go with you, and I will."

"Then what's the point in hashing it out again?" asked Obi Wan.

"I just--"

"Please, no fighting!" Ani entreated, turning pleading eyes on first one and then the other. Both men looked down at him, then back at each other with a joint sigh. He was far too much like Padme.

"We won't fight," Anakin promised. "And don't worry about your father. I'll keep him out of trouble."

"And I will make sure that your Uncle Anakin keeps himself in one piece," smirked Obi Wan. Then, he bent down and picked the boy up, adding solemnly, "And while we're gone, you must promise to take good care of your mother. I'm counting on you, Anakin."

"I will," he said instantly.

"Listen to her," Anakin added, unusually serious. "And don't let her worry about us."

Ani knew with the uncanny empathy of a Force sensitive child that his Uncle Anakin loved Padme--that he was as fiercely determined to protect her as the boy himself was. He didn't understand the implications of those feelings, of course. His understanding was entirely innocent, and he loved his uncle all the more because of it.

"I be good," he nodded seriously. "I take care of everybody."

And only Qui-Gon Jinn understood the full measure of that promise.


	29. Where Light Remains

"No, Ani, leave that!" Padme called, halting in his bedroom doorway. She raised a hand to the edge of the doorframe, wishing again that she had done as her mother had asked and left him on Naboo. There was no way she could have known what was coming, though. No one had thought that General Grievous would have the audacity to attempt an invasion of Coruscant itself. She should have, though. She should have realized--with the Jedi and their armies mired down in combat on the Outer Rim, the Core Worlds were left entirely open to attack.

"I can't, Mom!" her four-year-old son replied, still standing on the chair that he had used to reach the box. It too should have been left on Naboo, but Ani had insisted, and she found it difficult to deny him any of the few tokens that gave him some connection to his father. His small fingers were rapidly punching the lock combination, and Padme turned to look over her shoulder toward Threepio. The droid was moaning and waving his hands, as usual, but at least he was moving.

"Hurry, Ani," she said, knowing that arguing with him would waste valuable time and accomplish nothing. Thus far, the Senate Apartment Complex, the Senate itself, and its attached offices had been spared, but Grievous was notorious for his habit of singling out civilian targets, and the Senate was one that the vicious general was not likely to pass up. With most of the autonavigation lanes congested, it was virtually impossible for anyone to leave the planet now. Homeworld Security felt it prudent to move everyone to the underground shelters. Instinct told her to go directly there, but someone had to take charge of the panicking politicians here first.

"Ready!" Ani leapt to the floor with a loud thump.

Padme turned in time to see him shove the elder Anakin's braid into his pocket and clip Qui-Gon's lightsaber to his belt. "Good boy, now hurry," she urged.

He nodded and raced out of the room, ducking under her arm as he went. "Come on, Threepio, 'less you want to stay here forever!"

The protocol droid hastened his pace. "I assure you, Master Ani, I'm moving as quickly as my limbs permit. Oh, curse my metal body! I'll be entombed here!"

Usually, a remark like this would have brought a rejoinder from Ani, who seemed to have inherited both his father's implacable steadiness and his sharp wit. At the moment, however, he was focused on Padme, having declared in no uncertain terms that Obi Wan was counting on him to keep her safe from Grievous, and he intended to do so. He took her hand firmly as they left the apartment and did not release it again until the last of family transports had departed for the bunkers several hours later.

Padme would have liked to be on it, but she knew there was information in her office which could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. Several of her colleagues offered to take Ani with them, and the first time she had agreed. While Anakin's grip on her hand didn't tighten, it remained as steady and unwavering as it had been throughout the ordeal of the evacuation.

"I'm staying with my mother," he said calmly.

Afterward, Padme had no idea why she didn't insist. In retrospect, she knew that Ani would not have defied her, and there should have been no room for sentiment in the middle of an invasion. Yet, somehow, he went with her to her office, where he remained vigilantly by the door while she and Threepio gathered what she needed and transferred the data she needed onto a holodisk. She slipped the disk into her pocket and quickly erased the data from the computer system.

Ani waited until she had moved away from her desk and then reached up to palm open the door. Outside, the ornate hallways were packed with a panicked throng of Senators, staff, and droids, many carrying armloads of documents and data disks or even expensive personal treasures that they stubbornly refused to leave behind. Blue-robed Senate Guards and helmeted clone troopers were doing their best to oversee the evacuation, but the entire place was a sea of chaos, full of screaming sirens and strobing lights. Padme swallowed against a sudden wave of nausea, but Ani turned from the door and grabbed her hand, pulling her firmly out into the madness.

"Don't worry, Mom, you follow me," he told her.

"How could this happen?" a Sullustan was frantically demanding of the Gotal next to him.

"How?"

All around them, Padme heard the same question. How could it be Coruscant? How could it be _here?_ She had asked herself the same question more than once, but Padme Amidala Kenobi had more important things to worry about now. She had her son, who was weaving his way unerringly through the press of bodies in the hall around them. She had his unborn siblings, who seemed painfully aware of the fear she felt even in the womb. She had their father, still locked in some endless conflict on the Outer Rim, and she had never been more conscious of the reality that they might never see him again.

Desperately, she reached for him, though she had little hope that he would hear. _Obi Wan_, _I need you. Come back to me--quickly!_

Ani came to an abrupt halt, narrowly keeping Padme from colliding with a Gran Senator, who leveled his three eyestalks accusingly on her. "And you originally _opposed _the Military Creation Act. What do you say now?"

Padme didn't respond. There was no real answer to the question. Ani, however, took a breath and was about to come to her defense when a familiar voice began calling their names. Padme turned to see Bail Organa and Mon Mothma angling toward them with two Jedi, Shaak Ti and Stass Allie.

"Uncle Bail!" Ani cried as they pushed their way through the crowd.

The Senator placed a hand absently on the boy's head as he reached them, asking Padme "Have you seen the Chancellor?"

She shook her head. "He's probably in the holding office."

"We were just there," Shaak Ti said. "The office is empty. Even his guards are gone."

"They must have escorted him to the shelters," Padme said.

Bail glanced over her shoulder and raised his hand over his head to call attention to himself. Then he explained, "Mas Amedda . He'll know where to find the Chancellor."

The tall, horned, Chagrian fairly ploughed his way over to the group, where Bail said briskly, "We need to find the Chancellor."

"The Supreme Chancellor had no meetings scheduled until later today," he replied. "I assume he is in his residence."

"Five Hundred Republica," Shaak Ti muttered in apparent frustration. "I was just there."

"And the Chancellor wasn't?" Amedda asked.

"I wasn't looking for him then," the Jedi told him, but quickly cut off the thought. "Master Allie and I will check Republica." She let her eyes drift over Padme, Bail, Mothma, and Threepio, then finally settled her gaze on Ani and allowed a faint smile. "Where are you going?"

"I'm taking them to the shelters," Ani replied.

"The turbolifts to the shelters are overwhelmed," Stass Allie said in a tone of quiet seriousness that made Padme's eyes mist with grateful tears. "It'll be hours before the Senate is evacuated. My skimmer is at the plaza's northwest landing platform. You can have Senator Organa pilot that directly to the shelters."

"Won't you and Shaak Ti need it?" Padme asked, pushing her emotions away

"We'll use the speeder bike I arrived on," Shaak Ti replied.

"We appreciate the gesture, but I heard that the front plaza is cordoned off," Bail spoke up.

Master Allie took Ani's other hand. "We'll escort you."

Troopers stationed in the corridor opened a path for the group, allowing them through to the doorways that led into the main plaza. Ani kept a firm grip on Padme's hand as they moved, still walking ahead of her. She knew that it would have been faster to have Bail pick him up, but the Jedi didn't seem to mind, and despite the real need to get to the shelters, she found herself unable to take this small responsibility from him. In the doorway, however, a clone commando blocked their path, and the boy stared up at him with a gulp.

"You can't exit this way," the commando said.

"They're with us," Shaak Ti spoke up.

The commando waved a series of hand signals to his comrades, allowing the group to pass. The sky above the plaza was crowded with gunships and personnel carriers. AT-TEs and other mobile artillery pieces had already been deployed. Ani paused to stare up at the spectacle for a moment, then hurriedly pulled Padme after the Jedi, who were leading them to the open-roofed skimmer. The speeder bike was parked beside it, and Shaak Ti swung one leg over the seat. Master Allie settled in behind her as she started the engine, and the Jedi Master's eyes met Anakin's again.

"May the Force be with you," she said before the pair raced off.

Padme and the others watched them go, then the entire group crammed aboard the oval-shaped Flash skimmer. With Bail at the controls, they dropped down into the wide canyon below the plaza. The air traffic was almost as chaotic as the hallways inside had been. Bail was forced to swerve and weave through the swarm of rushing vehicles, and Padme instinctively drew Ani tighter against her side.

"I got you, Mom," he promised, wrapping his arms as far around her as he could. She smiled tightly.

They were in sight of the shelter entrances, which were just below the main sky-docks of the Senate Medcenter when Ani pulled back, twisting to cry urgently, "Watch out, Uncle Bail!

A second later, a pair of crimson blaster bolts streaked out of the sky toward them, coming from somewhere above the dome of the Senate. Padme craned her neck to see what was shooting at them, and Bail shouted, "Vulture droids!"

Padme clutched her son still tighter as Bail veered away from the plasma bolts. The pod-winged droid fighter that had fired was one of several that were firing on vehicles, landing platforms, and buildings in the canyon. Republic gunships flew in close pursuit, unleashing their powerful wingtip cannons. Little Ani's mouth dropped open in astonishment at the sight.

Bail was pushing the skimmer hard, whipping and banking through the skies to avoid blaster bolts, plasma, and flak, but the airways had become a deadly obstacle course. Drivers were beginning to crash, adding a whole new degree of chaos to the mix. Bail dropped the skimmer lower, banking toward the nearest shelter entrance.

Both friendly and unfriendly fire lanced around them, and a flash of red light blinded Padme as the skimmer tipped and almost sent them all tumbling into the air. When Padme regained her vision, she saw smoke pouring from the starboard turbine nacelle, and the small craft went into a dive.

"Hold tight!" Bail yelled.

"Hang on, Mom!" Ani buried his face in her side, clinging fearfully and yet still determined to keep her safe.

"We're doomed!" Threepio cried.

Bail swerved again, trying to reach a landing platform that abutted a wide skybridge. Padme swallowed against another wave of nausea and felt herself spinning wildly…

"Mom!" she heard her son scream again.

"Ani! Anakin..!"

-----

"Mom?" Ani peered anxiously down into his mother's face. She had fainted as they skidded into the plaza in front the Embassy Mall. The crash had taken out a huge holosign and three news kiosks, but his uncle Bail had kept them from hitting any of the people who were in the plaza, and Ani himself had made sure that Padme wasn't struck by any of the debris. He knew that she hadn't hit her head, but she collapsed against Mon Mothma.

Now she stirred, and Ani moved his hand to her stomach to check on the twins. It was an unconscious motion; he didn't know _how_ he could tell that they were all right, only that his feelings told him they were. Then he looked up a few seconds later, realizing his mistake. His parents had told him that he must keep the twins a secret. Nute Gunray still wanted his mother dead, and she had explained that if he knew about the babies, he would only be more eager to kill her. His uncle Bail knew the secret, of course, but he wasn't sure if Senator Mothma did, even though she was on the same committee with Padme that Bail was.

The Senator gave him a soft smile as his mother woke and began to sit up. Then, she turned her attention to Padme, who was looking around in confusion. Ani let out a small sigh of relief, comforted by Mothma's light tone as she took charge.

"No sleeping on the job, Senator. We have to get you out of here," she said.

Padme took Ani's face in her hands, and he could feel his mother shaking. She searched him quickly for injuries and pressed her lips to his forehead. Then she looked fearfully toward Mothma.

"How long--" she started to ask.

"Just for a moment. I don't think you struck your head. Can you move?" asked Mothma.

"I can barely hear you," Padme said, her voice still shaky and confused.

Mon Mothma only looked back at her, then extended a hand to help her climb out of the skimmer. "Padme, you have to be careful. Quickly, now."

Padme nodded. "Crashing wasn't exactly on my agenda."

"Mine either," remarked Bail, who was standing outside already with Threepio. He bent down quickly and scooped Ani into his arms, and the boy made no objection, clinging tightly to his uncle's neck. The noise around them was deafening. He almost couldn't see through the flashes of weapon fire and resulting explosions. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid stench of burning fuel and char. He wanted to press his hands to his ears, but even if he had, he knew that it would not block out the moans of wounded, the terrified screams, the heat and thunder of canon fire that plumed through the sky as the battle raged.

The group hunkered down behind the base of a huge sculpture and Bail let him slide to the ground. It was then that Ani finally noticed a smear of blood on his uncle's cheek. His eyes widened in alarm.

"You're hurt, Uncle Bail!" he exclaimed.

"It's nothing," the Senator assured him. "Besides, we have more to worry about."

Ani followed his gaze upward to where there were now five vulture droids on the skybridge that linked the Embassy Mall to the entrances of the Senate Hospital. They looked like giant, four legged spiders, even with their heads deployed forward. They had narrow sensor slits that gave the appearance of glowing red eyes, and though their blaster cannons were still aimed downward, they were steadily launching torpedoes at passing air taxis and other craft that were trying to make it to the entrances of both the hospital and the Senate shelters. Republic LAATs had dropped from the Senate Plaza to engage them, but so far the pilots were keeping their distance.

"Why aren't they doing anything?" Ani frowned.

Bail shook his head. "Too many people. They don't want to risk adding energy weapons and EMP missiles to this mess. There's no way they can get a clear shot at the vultures."

"Xi Char monstrosities," Mon Mothma said, shaking her head. Then she went on, "Palpatine will never live this down. Committing so many of our ships and troops to the Outer Rim sieges. As if this war he is so intent on winning could never come to Coruscant."

Bail disagreed, though Ani could sense that he and Senator Mothma were not arguing. They both seemed angry at Chancellor Palpatine, like his mother often was. "Not only will he live it down, he'll profit from it. The Senate will be blamed for voting to escalate the sieges, and while we're mired in accusations and counteraccusations of accountability, Palpatine will quietly accrue more and more power. Without realizing it, the Separatists have played right into his hands by launching this attack. They're all mad. Dooku, Grievous, Gunray, Palpatine."

"The Jedi could have stopped this war. Now they're Palpatine's pawns," Senator Mothma added.

Ani frowned and turned toward her sharply. Much of what his Uncle Bail had said made no sense to him, and he wasn't sure what "pawns" meant, but the tone of the woman's voice made it clear to him that the word wasn't kind. She didn't like the Jedi now any more than she liked Palpatine, and from the mixture of sadness and pain he felt in his mother, he could tell that Obi Wan was also included in her criticism. He bristled.

"Master Ti and Master Allie got us out of the Senate," he reminded her.

She blinked back at him, then smiled uneasily. "Yes, they did, Ani."

He nodded. "And my dad and Uncle Anakin will come. They'll save us."

Ani felt his mother's hand atop his head and craned his neck to look up at her. Padme smiled, but there were tears in her dark eyes, and he could still sense sadness from her.

"They're coming," Uncle Bail announced suddenly, pointing toward the bridge.

"Perhaps if we throw ourselves on the mercy of the owners of the mall, they will raise the security grate," suggested Threepio.

Bail looked meaningfully from Padme to Senator Mothma. "We have to keep those droids on the far side of the bridge so the gunships can take them out."

Senator Mothma glanced back toward the skimmer. Just ahead of it, less than fifty meters from the base of the sculpture where they were hiding, a military police vehicle, similar to a Naboo Gian speeder, was tipped on its side against the facade of the mall. It had crashed some time before they had, but was still belching smoke. Sprawled on the plaza close to it lay the charred corpses of three clone troopers.

"I see a way to try," Mothma said.

"Ani, stay here," Padme told her son quickly.

"I can help…" Ani tried to argue, but the three adults had already dashed out from behind the statue, running toward the speeder.

"What could I have been thinking?" Threepio shouted as he and Ani watched them search the speeder for weapons. "It can never be the easy answer!"

"'Course not, Threepio," Ani grinned. "But you can throw yourself at somebody later if you want."

"Oh! Really, Master Ani, that's not very…" the droid trailed off as Padme, Bail, and Senator Mothma jogged back to them, each carrying a blaster rifle.

"Not much power left," Bail said, checking his. Then he looked toward Padme. "Yours?"

"Low on blaster gas," she said.

Senator Mothma ejected the powerpack from hers. "Empty."

"We'll have to make do," Bail said with a nod. Then he hunkered down again and said, "We'll have to be prepared to move as soon as we fire. Ani, climb on my back and hold on to my neck. Tight."

"Okay, Uncle Bail," Ani said, hurrying to do as he was told.

"Put your legs around my waist," Bail directed, then began to take careful aim at the walking vulture droids. By then three of them had started onto the skyway, firing indiscriminately. Torpedoes exploded against the sides of buildings, sending huge slabs of ferrocrete down into the plazas, onto balconies above them, burying vehicles and Coruscanti citizens alike. Ani obediently wrapped his legs around the Senator and took a breath, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

"Don't focus on your fears, Ani," said a quiet voice beside him.

He quickly opened his eyes, smiling at Qui-Gon's calmly reassuring tone. He turned to see the Jedi Spirit kneeling beside Bail. Qui-Gon gave a half smile in return. "Remember what you've learned. The Force is all around you. Focus on it. Let it guide you, and you'll have nothing to fear," he said.

Ani nodded and closed his eyes again, trying to quiet the fear he felt, trying to feel only the comforting current of the Force around him…in him. There was a still place inside of himself where he could always find the Force, and he went there now as Bail and his mother began to fire on one of the droids.

Their first few shots did little more than catch the thing's attention, but Ani saw both his mother and Bail begin to hit vital components. He felt a thrill of success as droid actually retreated a couple of steps toward the Hospital Plaza, but moments later his stomach sank when it launched three torpedoes straight across the skyway.

Bail was already running toward one of the kiosks that had still been standing after the skimmer crashed. One torpedo hit the pedestal where they had been hiding, blowing it and the sculpture to fragments. Ani barely noticed the second one as it took out what was left of Master Allie's skimmer. His attention was riveted on his mother, who had caught her foot on some jutting rubble. She spilled forward, seeming to fall in slow motion, and he looked up in horror to see a massive slab of what had been the statue falling toward her.

"Mom!" he screamed, and Bail turned to look as well.

"Ani, remember!" Qui-Gon said again. "Use the Force!"

Without stopping to think, he released his grip on Bail's neck and pushed himself upward, opening himself wide to the powerful current. Somehow, Qui-Gon's light saber flew off his belt, and he felt it smack into his hand as he landed in front of her. His only thought was to stop the block, to protect Padme, and he heard the familiar hum of the green blade, felt his arm being pulled along in a sure, graceful motion, felt his body turn into the arc.

Bail reached them as the two halves of the fragment crashed down harmlessly to either side. Padme stared up at Ani in shock, but Bail wasted no time and hurried to pull her to her feet. Then he grabbed Ani's free hand and led them both to cover.

Once there, Ani clipped the lightsaber back in place, and Padme grabbed him fiercely, hugging him against her chest. He could feel her whole body shaking, feel her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to calm herself. His arms wound tightly, protectively around her.

"It's okay, Mom," he promised.

"Never do that again!" she told him raggedly, kissing him.

The order sent a shard through the small boy, though he could feel that Padme's words came from her own fear. He nodded readily, wanting only to reassure her, feeling his face flush with shame at the thought of having hurt or frightened her--but what could he have done? Obi Wan was counting on him, and even if that meant hurting Padme, he couldn't let his father down.

She released him, and he hurriedly clambered up onto Bail's back again. The vulture droid's third torpedo had detonated against the lowered security grate, blowing a gaping hole into the mall. People around them were rushing up to it, fighting so fiercely to be the first ones through that no one was getting out and they were being crushed. Ani thought that one of the vultures would get them, but the droids had left themselves open to attack by the Republic forces. Brilliant light streaked from LAATs' fire dishes, converging on the metal monsters, and two of them exploded. Another one turned to counterattack, but missiles picked the droid apart and blew it across the plaza. Padme and Bail were firing in a steady barrage on the remaining ones, which had moved backwards onto the skyway, but one of them shot another torpedo, forcing the group to race for new cover.

"And I thought the Senate was a battlefield!" Mon Mothma exclaimed as they crouched behind a charred heap of slag not far from the hole in the security gate.

"I'm out," Bail said with a rueful sigh, dropping his rifle.

Padme checked her own weapon and tossed hers down as well. "Same."

Threepio just shook his head in dismay. "How will I ever explain this to Artoo Detoo?"

"Artoo'll be sad he missed it," Ani told him.

With a gesture toward Padme, Bail broke and ran for the gate. It seemed to Ani that they would make it through, but suddenly the remaining droid was in their path, backing them toward another building with predatory malice. Ani gulped up at it, then frowned, feeling a sudden hot burst of anger that tightened his hands into fists.

"No, Anakin," Qui-Gon's voice spoke, this time with an authority that the Jedi Spirit rarely employed with him. "Don't give in to anger. This is not the Jedi Way."

He blinked at the reprimand. "But…"

A moment later, though, the droid stopped. Its head retracted and it launched itself over the edge of the plaza, sailing down into the cannon below. The one that was still on the skyway did the same, and Ani watched them in confusion. A gunship moved off in pursuit, and the little group finally made it through the security gate.

Padme made it to the skyway railing first, followed by Bail and Ani. Bail bent to let the boy slide off, and he raced to the rail beside his mother. Peering down into the canyon below, he saw the vulture droids drop down to join a Separatist gunboat. The three of them were in rapid pursuit of a train, which itself was speeding toward a skytunnel. Ani looked questioningly up at Padme.

"Who are they after?" he wondered.

"I don't know, Ani," she replied, but he saw a shiver pass through her, and an ominous feeling settled in his stomach.

-----

Hundreds of people stood shoulder to shoulder in the Nicandra Plaza, staring at the Embassy Mall's Holonet monitor. A late-breaking news report was covering Chancellor Palpatine's kidnapping. Padme stood with Bail and Mon Mothma on one side, her son on the other. Once again, Ani kept her hand clasped firmly in his, and she drew comfort from the touch as she listened to the clamor around them. Voices were shrill with worry and excitement, seeming in equal proportion. Many were shocked and horrified that the Chancellor could be taken; many more still seemed to see the entire affair as some sort of unreal adventure--a dream, or perhaps simply a holonet drama, despite the presence of two very real armies whose war had been waged throughout the capital today and was now still going on above the planet.

Listening to the buzz of speculation, Padme felt more as if she were a spectator at some grisly sporting event than waiting to learn the fate of the Republic's chief executive. People were even making bets as to whether Palpatine could be rescued. More than a few she heard speculating as to how long it would take before Obi Wan and Anakin were recalled from the Outer Rim, and whether they could get back in time to pull off some miraculous rescue.

Feeling her stomach begin to churn, Padme lifted her eyes to the night sky, watching the flaring explosions that lit the darkness and then faded out again, only to be followed by more in quick succession. For all she knew, they could be up there--_he_ could be up there--risking his life to save Palpatine, who had brought all of this insanity upon himself. She looked around her in dismay, wondering how all this had come to be--how, in the span of only five years, their civilization had become a parody of itself. She looked sadly down at the boy beside her, her brightly hopeful boy, ever confident that his father would come to save them, believing that the Jedi would restore peace to the galaxy.

Ani hadn't even been a thought five years ago. Obi Wan had said he that he wanted to wait--promised her that there would be time, but there never seemed to be. Everything happened in a rush of stolen moments. He was watching his son grow up in a holocube.

_I want him to grow up happy and safe. I want to _be_ here. I want this war to end…_

Padme's vision blurred. She forced a smile and squeezed his hand, then pushed her way through the crowd, taking hold of a handrail on the edge of the plaza. Tears were streaming her cheeks by then, warm as they flowed from her eyes but quickly cooling in the night air. She let go of the rail and tried furtively to brush them away, but Ani wasn't fooled.

"He'll be here, Mom," Ani said quietly, slipping his arms around her and pressing his face into her side. Then he looked up again, promising, "He's coming."

She hugged him gratefully, trying without success to still the tears that coursed down her cheeks. Later, there would be questions to ask and others to answer. She didn't doubt that word would soon reach the temple about his use of the Force today. It had been no more than an instinctive act--and yet that alone would be cause for renewed interest by the Order. They had refused to train Anakin Skywalker as a boy, then they reversed that decision after his unwitting use of the Force during the Blockade Crisis had played a pivotal role in freeing Naboo from the Trade Federation. He had been nine at the time; Ani was almost five years younger, but what he had done today suggested conscious use of the Force, at least on some level…

"Padme!" Bail pushed his way through the crowd to them.

She turned away from the rail as he reached them. Wordlessly, he drew her into a hug, stroking her hair as she wept against the front of his tunic. She pulled herself together quickly for the sake of her son and stepped back, reaching to tuck a strand of hair back behind her ear. She swallowed and nodded, smiling silent thanks.

"Padme, listen to me," he said with a half smile of his own. "If anything good can come of this attack, it's that it will mean an end to the Outer Rim sieges. Obi Wan and the Jedi will be back where they belong, here in the Core."

She drew a ragged breath. "What if you're wrong, Bail? What Palpatine is killed, and Mas Amedda and the rest of that gang use it as another excuse to prolong the fighting? That doesn't worry you? What if Alderaan is next on Grievous list of worlds to attack?"

"Of course it worries me. But I have faith that it won't happen," his gaze moved down to take in Ani, and he smiled. "Don't forget yours, Padme. And as for Mas Amedda, he won't last a week. There are thousands of Senators who think as we do. We'll rally them and put the Republic back on course, even if we have to fight tooth and nail every step of the way. "

"The Republic," Padme closed her eyes. "I wish that all I had to worry about was the Republic."

"I promise you, Padme. Your family will be safe. No matter what else happens, Breha and I will always protect your children," Bail replied.

"Thank you, Bail," Padme's smile was genuine. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you."


	30. Brothers

"Flying is for droids," Obi Wan Kenobi muttered under his breath, banking his fighter hard out of the path of an explosion that came very close to turning it into a charred hulk--and the general with it.

His cockpit speakers crackled. "There isn't a droid made that can out fly you, Obi Wan."

A faint smile touched his lips. He knew that voice so well, and yet it seemed alien to him--calm, steady, confident but without the cocky self-assuredness that Obi Wan might once have heard. Was it Master Windu's tutelage which had finally tempered Anakin--or was it the war? The war had changed both of them, but so had many other things, and he wasn't sure he fully realized which changes were the natural consequence of his choice to leave the Jedi and which had been forced upon them.

"Sorry," he said in reply. "Was that out loud?"

"Wouldn't matter if it wasn't. I know what you're thinking," Anakin told him.

"Do you?" He looked up through the cockpit canopy to find his friend and partner flying inverted, mirroring him so closely that if not for the transparisteel domes between them, they could have shaken hands. Obi Wan smiled again. "Some new gift of the Force?"

"Not the Force, Obi Wan. Experience. That's what you're always thinking," said Anakin matter-of-factly.

He was right.

_And at least it's Obi Wan now_, he thought. When they had first been sent to fight in the Outer Rim Sieges, Anakin had still been addressing him as "General" more often than not. Sometimes it had been spoken with affection--a replacement for the familiarity of "Master". At other times, there had been a clear edge of anger--the bitterness of betrayal. The last several months had, he hoped, finally allowed them to lay those feelings to rest. Though Obi Wan knew that his young friend could never again address him as Master, it was reassuring that Anakin had taken to calling him by name.

"And what does experience tell you we should do about those incoming tri-fighters?" he asked, moving his hand briefly from the fighter's controls to indicate a blue-white point of light that splintered into four ion trails.

"That we should break--right!" Anakin said sharply.

Obi Wan's hand was already back on his starfighter's control yoke, whipping the ship to the right. Anakin, flying above him, veered in the other direction, and the tri-fighters' cannons lanced through where they had been a moment before. An alarm sounded, and his gaze moved to the display in front of him, where a sensor-lock warning flashed up.

"Anakin! Slip-jaws!" he directed.

For most pilots, it would have been a suicide maneuver. Both fighters would roll toward each other, causing their pursuers to crash head on while Anakin and Obi Wan pulled out at the last fraction of a second, allowing their fighters to skim past one another.

"My thought exactly," responded the young Knight.

With the Force guiding their hands and the perfect unity of long-established partnership, they slid past each other through the crisscross of enemy fire. Tri-fighters exploded on their tails, but the resulting shockwave almost sent Obi Wan into a tumble that would have smashed the fighter against the nearby Republic cruiser's ventral hull. His threat warning sounded again before he had even managed to straighten out.

"Oh, marvelous," he muttered under his breath. Two of the tri-fighters had survived, and both were now locked onto him.

"Perfect," Anakin's voice came through his cockpit speakers again. "Both of them are on your tail."

"Perfect is _not _the word I'd use." Obi Wan shot. He twisted his control yoke in a vain attempt to shake them off. "We have to split them up!"

"Break left," Anakin replied with chilling calm. "The turbolaser tower off your port bow: thread its guns. I'll take things from there."

"Easy for you to say." Obi-Wan whipped sideways along the cruiser's superstructure. Fire from the pursuing tri-fighters blasted burning chunks from the cruiser's armor. "Why am I always the bait?"

"I'm right behind you. Artoo, lock on," Anakin said. There was, of course, no answer for the question.

Obi Wan spun the fighter around the recoiling turbolasers, but still couldn't shake his pursuers. Cannon fire continued to flash past him, and he cried, "Anakin, they're all over me!"

"Dead ahead. Move right to clear my shot," Anakin told him with the same almost unnatural calm. "Now!"

Firing his port jets, Obi Wan jerked the fighter to the right, and one of his pursuers fell directly into the path of Anakin's cannon fire. He heard the Knight congratulate Artoo Detoo on his shooting, but seconds later felt the ship rocked by a cannon blast that blew the ablative shielding off his left wing.

"I'm running out of tricks here!" he told his partner as he dove into the energy-riddled space between the Republic cruiser and a Trade Federation battleship. The tri-fighter and Anakin both followed, with the droid keeping itself perfectly balanced between the ships of the two human pilots, where Anakin couldn't get a clear shot without the risk of hitting Obi Wan.

"No wonder we're losing the war," he muttered. "They're getting smarter."

"What was that? I didn't copy," he heard Anakin say.

Instead of replying, Obi Wan kicked his starfighter into a tight spiral toward the Federation ship below "I'm taking the deck!"

"Good idea. I need some room to maneuver," the Knight agreed flippantly.

Cannon fire tracked closer, almost too close. Obi Wan's cockpit speakers buzzed. "Cut right, Obi Wan! Hard right! Don't let him get a handle on you! Artoo, lock on!"

The general rolled a right wingover into a service trench, bringing the fighter too low and close to the deck for the ship's cannons to take him out, but the tri-fighter stayed on him. At the far end of the trench, the massive support buttresses of the cruiser's towering bridge left no room for even Obi Wan's small craft. He kicked into a half-roll, whipping out of the trench. The fighter shot straight up the leading edge of the tower, rocketing past the forward viewports with bare meters to spare. He hoped the tri-fighter would crash against the tower, but it followed his course with uncanny precision.

"Of course," he muttered. "That would have been too easy. Anakin, where _are _you?"

One of the control surfaces on his left wing shattered, and Arfour let out a scream. Battling to keep the fighter level, he toggled switches and keyed the internal comm. "Don't try to fix it, Arfour. I've shut it down."

"I have the lock!" Anakin's voice finally came. "Go! Firing--now!"

He hit maximum drag on his intact wing, sending the fighter into a wild arc high and right as Anakin's cannons vaporized the last tri-fighter. Once clear, he fired his retros to stall the craft in the blind spot behind the cruiser's bridge.

"Thanks, Anakin. That was--thanks. That's all," he said shakily.

"Don't thank me," Anakin replied. "I told Ani I'd bring you back in one piece, and I intend to."

Obi Wan smiled at the statement, warmed by the thought of his son waiting on the planet below--waiting, he knew, with an absolute confidence in both of them. Ani had been the balm that finally soothed their tattered friendship, the force that brought them a unity more complete than they had ever experienced as Master and Padawan. He inspired the best in both men, much as his mother did, but unlike Padme, little Ani had never been a source of tension or resentment. After Anakin had saved the boy's life, Obi Wan felt nothing but pride and gladness as he watched them together. Ani saw the young Knight almost as a second father now, and that relationship lightened Obi Wan's heart in a way that few things could.

"And I promised him I'd keep you out of trouble. Don't forget that part," he bantered. Their promises had, in fact been opposite, with Obi Wan assuring the boy that he would bring Anakin back in one piece and Anakin responding that he would keep the elder out of trouble. They amounted to the same thing, though, and knowing that was part of the enjoyment of the wordplay. Obi Wan's tone quickly became serious again, though, and he asked, "Does your droid have anything? Arfour's hopeless. I think that last cannon hit cooked his motivator."

"Don't worry. If his beacon's working, Artoo'll find it. Have you thought about how we'll find the Chancellor if--"

"No. There's no need to consider it. Until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction. Be mindful of what is, not what might be," Obi Wan told him. The words were out of his mouth before he realized that he was speaking them, and he closed his eyes, remembering too late that Anakin was no longer his pupil.

Anakin, however, was too focused on his own guilt and worry over Palpatine. His voice was tight, and he fairly spit the words as he spoke. "I should have been here. I _told_ you. I should have _been_ here."

"He was defended by Stass Allie and Shaak Ti. If two Masters could not prevent this, do you think you could? Stass Allie is clever and valiant, and Shaak Ti is the most cunning Jedi I've ever met. She's even taught me a few tricks," Obi Wan said, hoping to still the boy's self-blame without seeming to reprimand him.

"But General Grievous--"

"Master Ti had faced him before. After Muunilinst. She is not only subtle and experienced, but very capable indeed. Seats on the Jedi Council aren't handed out as party favors," said Obi Wan.

"I've noticed," quipped Anakin.

"Put yourself in the moment, Anakin. Focus," Obi Wan said. He knew that appointment to the Council was a sore subject with Anakin, and the younger man's rampant ambition bothered him. He suspected that it had its roots in their friendship, or rather, in their rivalry. From the moment they'd met, they had been competitors--for Qui-Gon's attention, in their practice of the Jedi arts, for Padme's affection, although this last had never been intentional on Obi Wan's part. However, this was not the time to rehash that, and both men knew it.

"Copy that," Anakin said dryly. "Focusing now."

Obi Wan couldn't resist a smile. He shook his head, offering no further commentary.

In another few moments, Anakin spoke again. "We've got him. The cruiser dead ahead. That's Grievous's flagship--_Invisible Hand_.''

"Anakin, there are dozens of cruisers dead ahead!" pointed out Obi Wan.

"It's the one crawling with vulture fighters," Anakin explained.

"Oh. That one," the general ran a hand over his face and took a breath, realizing again how much he despised flying. "Oh, this should be easy..."

"Easy? No. But it might be fun. Lunch at Dex's says I'll blast two for each of yours. Bring Ani, too. He hasn't met Dex yet, has he?"

"I haven't had a chance to take him," Obi Wan replied. "But--"

"I doubt that Padme would want him in Coco Town," said Anakin easily. "We'll have to think up a cover story."

"We don't need a cover story. Listen, Anakin, no--"

"Artoo can keep score," the Knight's voice cut him off, and Obi Wan could see the mischievous grin already.

He grit his teeth. "_Anakin--"_

"All right, dinner. And I promise, this time I won't let Artoo cheat," Anakin interrupted.

"No games, Anakin. There's too much at stake," Obi Wan said firmly.

"I know what's at stake," Anakin replied with a sudden quiet seriousness that surprised his former teacher. "You feeling better?"

Obi Wan's eyebrows rose. "Yes. Now, have Artoo tight-beam a report to the Temple. And send out a call for any Jedi in starfighters. We'll come at it from all sides."

"Way ahead of you," his partner replied. There was a moment's pause, and then, Anakin said ruefully. "There's still too much ECM. Artoo can't raise the Temple. I think the only reason we can even talk to each other is that we're practically side by side."

"And Jedi beacons?" Obi Wan asked.

"No joy," Anakin responded. "Looks like it may be just us and the clones."

"Then we will have to be enough. Switching to clone fighter channel," said Obi Wan grimly. He quickly switched frequencies, asking, "Oddball, do you copy? We need help."

"Copy, Red leader," came the response.

"Mark my position and form your squad behind me. We're going in."

"We're on your tail, General Kenobi," the clone's voice came over his speakers again. "Set S-foils in attack position."

"This is where the fun begins," Anakin remarked with an almost childish glee. "Ten vultures inbound, high and left to my orientation. More on the way."

"I have them," confirmed Obi Wan with a glance at his own scanners. "Anakin, wait--the cruiser's bay shields have dropped! I'm reading four, no, six ships incoming."

"Tri-fighters first. The vultures can wait," said Anakin decisively.

"Agreed. Slip back and right, swing behind me. We'll take them on the slant," directed Obi Wan.

"Negative, General. Your left control surface is blown and Arfour's been compromised. I'm going head-to-head. See you on the far side," Anakin said.

"Take it easy. Wait for Oddball and Squad Seven. Anakin--" Obi Wan broke off in frustration as Anakin's fighter surged past.

"Sorry we're late," Oddball spoke again as the squad arrived. "Where's Red Five?"

"Anakin, form up!" Obi Wan ordered to no avail.

"Incoming!" the Knight warned, not stopping in his race to meet the Trade Federation ships.

Obi Wan flew after him, and the next few minutes passed in staccato bursts of com traffic and cannon fire. He and Anakin moved through the battle in a perfect unison of Force-guided motion, relentlessly blasting at the droid fighters. Then the vultures began to target Anakin. Obi Wan's threat display showed twelve of them on his partner's tail.

"Watch this," Anakin's voice was steady. He flipped his starfighter again and dove, spinning, directly through them. "I'm going to lead them through the needle."

"Don't lead them anywhere. First Jedi principle of combat: survive," Obi Wan reminded him.

"No choice," Anakin replied. "Come down and thin them out a little.''

"Nothing fancy, Arfour, just keep me steady," Obi Wan said, slamming his control yoke forward. He reached into the Force and felt for his shot. "On my mark, break left--now!" The shutdown control surface of his left wing turned the left break into a tight overhead spiral that sent his guns across the paths of four vultures.

They exploded in quick succession, but that still left eight in pursuit of Anakin. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, he watched with a mix of helplessness and astonishment as Anakin flipped his fighter down into the same service trench that he had led the tri-fighter into earlier. He knew that with eight droids on him, there was no way that he would be able to pull off a slant up the bridge-tower as Obi Wan had done. With a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, though, the elder man realized that Anakin didn't intend to try.

"Don't try it, Anakin," he warned. "It's too tight."

"I'll get through," the Knight assured him.

"Use the Force. Think yourself through, and the ship will follow," Obi Wan told him worriedly.

"Copy that. Thinking now," Anakin's voice came back sardonically.

Cannon fire blazed past the little ship, impacting on the bridge tower's support struts ahead of him, but Anakin came on fast. The fighter snapped onto its side, clearing the narrow gap between the two struts with bare centimeters to spare. The first two vultures exploded against the sides, and Obi Wan fired down on the others, forcing them into the path of the explosion. Anakin's fighter shot away from the cruiser into a victory roll.

"I'll give you the first four," the Knight's voice crackled through the speakers. "But the other eight are mine."

"Anakin--"

"All right, we'll split them," allowed Anakin. "But lunch is still on you."

"Fine," Obi Wan agreed. "But if Padme finds out, _you_ can explain it."

"Deal--" Anakin started to say, then broke off. "Oddball's in trouble. I'm going to help him out."

"Don't. He's doing his job. We need to do ours," Obi Wan reminded him.

"Obi Wan, they're getting eaten alive over--"

"Every one of them would gladly trade his life for Palpatine's. Will you trade Palpatine's life for theirs?" asked Obi Wan.

"No--no, of course not, but--"

"Anakin, I understand. You want to save everyone. You always do. But you can't." The words burned through his chest like a lightsaber blade as he spoke them, but Obi Wan pushed the pain aside. Now was not the time to allow his personal life, his fears, to distract him. Palpatine's life was at stake, and he and Anakin appeared to be the only chance that the Supreme Chancellor had of being rescued.

He focused on the battle, on guiding his damaged craft through turbolaser bolts and flak from the Trade Federation cruisers, moving toward the command ship where Artoo had identified the Chancellor's emergency beacon. They had almost reached it when Anakin gave a sudden warning.

"Missiles! Pull up!"

He broke left, and two of the missiles followed him. He saw the streak of an ion trail and let out a breath of relief. "They overshot us…"

The second missile flew close enough to trigger its proximity sensors, and detonated in a spray of glowing shrapnel. The fighter continued on through the debris, and Obi Wan realized that the shrapnel was _tracking him. _Little silver spheres latched onto the fighter, then split and sprouted spidery arrays of jointed arms that pried up hull plates, exposing the fighter's internal works to the ravages of serrated circular blades.

"I'm hit," he almost growled. "Anakin?"

"I have visual." Anakin confirmed, and Obi Wan saw him swing his fighter back, closing the distance between the two ships. "Buzz droids. I count five."

"Get out of here, Anakin. There's nothing you can do," he told his partner.

"I'm not leaving you," the Knight countered with stubborn finality.

"Anakin, the mission! Get to the command ship! Get the Chancellor!" he said urgently.

"I'm not going to go down there later and tell Ani that I left without you," Anakin insisted.

Obi Wan closed his eyes, managing through sheer strength of will to maintain the calm he had learned as a Jedi. Again he felt the piercing heat of a blade through his heart. "You'll be able to tell him that we both did our duty. Go, Anakin. They're shutting down the controls."

"I can fix that."

Obi Wan watched in shock as the other fighter moved toward him, almost literally touching his wing. "Anakin--"

"Steady…steady…" the Knight muttered as he triggered his cannon, blasting the buzz droids away. Unfortunately, along with them went most of Obi Wan's wing.

"Whoops," Anakin said.

"Anakin, that's not _helping_," Obi Wan said as the fighter jolted hard, sending his head clanging against the domed canopy. His ears rang, and the cockpit began to fill with smoke.

"You're right, bad idea. Here, let's try this. Move left and swing under. Easy…" instructed Anakin.

"Anakin, you're too close! Wait--" he broke off, gaping as Anakin's wing dipped and physically swiped the buzz droid off. The impact rocked both fighters, shattered Anakin's forward control surface, and left a deep dent in Obi Wan's craft.

"You're going to get us both killed!" cried Obi Wan.

The droids still attached to the fighter were beginning to peel away the hull enough so that the saw blades could penetrate deep inside, releasing streams of gas into the vacuum of space. It crystallized, hanging around the fighter and making it impossible for Obi Wan to see.

"Blast," Obi-Wan muttered. "I can't see. My controls are going."

"You're doing fine. Stay on my wing," Anakin told him.

"I have to accelerate out of this."

"I'm with you. Go."

Of course he was. That was the heart of the relationship between Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. It was a relationship far beyond the bounds of Master and Padawan, beyond friendship. Despite the difference in their ages, these men had grown up together. Obi Wan had learned as much from Anakin as Anakin ever had from him. He had learned what it meant to accept another without condition, to temper his own intensity and drive for perfection according to the needs of a fellow. He had come to see that while rules and order were valuable, they were not sacrosanct. Anakin had taught him flexibility and understanding without ever realizing that he had done so. In large part, it had been his relationship with Anakin which taught the elder to find humor in the midst of war. Whatever differences might exist between them, Obi Wan and Anakin would both be exactly where he other needed, every time, without fail. Anakin had proven it when he saved Obi Wan from Asajj Ventress four years ago--proven it again by saving the child who had become his namesake. It had taken little Ani's birth to remind them, Obi Wan knew that but neither would forget again. They were brothers.


	31. Plans Gone Awry

Palpatine sensed the Jedi before they stepped off the turbolift. He carefully schooled his expression, radiating fear for the benefit of the pair as they entered the General's Quarters. Kenobi stepped toward him first and bowed.

"Chancellor," he said with impeccable courtesy.

"Are you all right?" Anakin asked.

Palpatine stared over the young man's shoulder, putting a fearful quake in his voice as he said, "Count Dooku."

The two men turned to face Tyranus, who had just entered the room and was now standing on the balcony above them with two Super Battle Droids. Anakin turned back toward Palpatine reassuringly. "This is not a problem," he said.

_No,_ thought Palpatine. _It's not a problem at all, is it?_

Kenobi spoke quietly and without fear. "This time, we will do it together."

"I was about to say that," responded Anakin.

Leaving the Jedi Order had changed nothing in Obi Wan Kenobi. The man had become tranquility itself--a pure and unhampered fount of Light Side energy. He moved in an intractable peace, effused unshakable calm, power under perfect control. Anakin had taken on a measure of that calm under Windu's hand, but Palpatine knew that beneath the surface lay a volcano which could still be tapped. First, though, Kenobi would have to be dealt with. Anakin still followed his lead too closely. He was still trying too hard to be what this man expected of him. That was the real purpose behind this little kidnapping ruse. Windu was not of such consequence. The boy respected him, but he had less influence now that Anakin had been Knighted. It was Kenobi he still looked to--Kenobi who still held Anakin in check.

"General Kenobi. Anakin Skywalker. Gentlemen--a term I use in its loosest possible sense—you are my prisoners," announced Tyranus, vaulting over the balcony rail.

"Get help!" urged Palpatine hoarsely. "You _must get _help. Neither of you is any match for him. He's a _Sith Lord_!"

"Chancellor Palpatine," Kenobi smiled. "Sith Lords are our specialty."

_We shall see, _Palpatine restrained a laugh as the two of them turned and threw their cloaks over their shoulders. Blue blades lit with deadly grace and they stepped toward Tyranus.

"Your swords, please, gentlemen. We don't want to make a mess of things in front of the Chancellor," Tyranus said mockingly.

"You won't get away this time, Dooku," Kenobi promised.

"Please," Tyranus responded with a sneer. "Do you think I orchestrated this entire operation with the intent to escape? I could have taken the Chancellor outsystem hours ago. But I have better things to do with my life than to babysit him while I wait for the pair of you to attempt a rescue."

"This is a little more than an attempt," Anakin said as his lightsaber came upward.

"And a little less than a rescue," Tyranus replied, swishing his cloak off his shoulder with a flourish. He gestured lazily toward the Battle Droids above. "Now please, gentlemen. Must I order the droids to open fire? That becomes so untidy, what with blaster bolts bouncing about at random. Little danger to the three of us, of course, but I should certainly hate for any harm to come to the Chancellor."

"Why do I find that difficult to believe?" asked Kenobi, moving gracefully toward him.

"You weren't so particular about bloodshed on Geonosis," Anakin reminded Tyranus, his movements perfectly mirroring Kenobi's as they flanked their opponent.

"Ah," Palpatine's apprentice let his smile widen. "And how is Senator Kenobi?"

"Don't! Don't even speak her name!" It was Anakin who barked the warning, Anakin whose jaw clenched. Anakin's emotions crackled at the implied threat.

"My wife is safely beyond your reach," Kenobi stepped in mildly. There was not a flicker of anger; if anything, the man's control tightened. He knew. He understood well what Tyranus was doing, and he wasn't about to allow it.

The statement was enough, though. Kenobi had meant no reprimand to Anakin, no subtle reminder of exactly which of them had won that particular contest--but Anakin felt it anyway. The seeds of jealousy that Palaptine had so carefully planted years ago were coming to fruit now. Love could soon be turned into obsession. Darth Sideous was well used to laying his plans so that they could be easily modified to suit events beyond his immediate control.

"I bear Chancellor Palpatine no ill will," Tyranus said, casually turning the discussion back to matters at hand. "He is neither soldier nor spy, whereas you and your friend here are both. It is only an unfortunate accident of history that he has chosen to defend a corrupt Republic against my endeavor to reform it."

"You mean destroy it!" snapped Anakin.

Tyranus regarded him with an air of weariness. "The Chancellor is a civilian. You and General Kenobi, on the other hand, are legitimate military targets. It is up to you whether you will accompany me as captives--or as _corpses_,'' as he finished the statement, his lightsaber rose from his belt and slid into his hand.

He ignited the red blade calmly and held it down at his side, but Kenobi showed no hesitation. He and Anakin were now squarely on either side of Tyranus, and he remarked dryly, "Now, there's a coincidence. You face the identical choice."

"Just because there are two of you, do not presume you have the advantage," warned Tyranus, moving his blade in salute.

"Oh, we know," Anakin shot, almost sneering. "Because there are two of _you_."

Tyranus showed no reaction, but Palpatine felt his apprentice's surprise nonetheless. Palpatine had seen no reason to tell him that Obi Wan and Anakin's latest mission had, in fact, confirmed Windu and Yoda's growing suspicion that Darth Sidious was more than a figure that Dooku had conjured to sow dissension between the Jedi and the Senate. He also had not expected Anakin to reveal that fact. The boy's arrogance could be as troublesome as it was useful.

"Or maybe I should say, _were_ two of you," the young Jedi went on. "We're on to your partner Sidious; we tracked him all over the galaxy. He's probably in Jedi custody right now."

"Is he?" Dooku replied with mild disinterest. "How fortunate for you."

"Surrender," Kenobi's voice cracked through the banter. "You will be given no further chance."

Dooku raised an eyebrow. "Unless one of you happens to be carrying Yoda in his pocket, I hardly think I shall need one."

Palpatine's well-meaning rescuers rushed forward. Tyranus fended them off effortlessly, remarking, "I've been looking forward to this!"

"My powers have doubled since the last time we met, Count," Anakin said with a sweeping slash toward his enemy.

"Good. Twice the pride, double the fall," came the rejoinder from Tyranus as he neatly sidestepped and countered. He cut at Anakin's leg, and the boy's blade flashed down to block, then swept upward again to push aside the slash that Tyranus made at his neck.

Palpatine waited patiently, watching with evident fear, but the Dark Lord of the Sith kept his inner awareness trained on Anakin Skywalker. The battle raged. Kenobi began to tire, as did Tyranus, but Anakin's energy only increased. Tyranus managed to hurl Kenobi back as they neared the stairs, but Anakin pressed, driving him up onto the upper landing. Kenobi regained his composure and rushed up to join them as Anakin leapt over Tyranus. An arc of Kenobi's blade destroyed the two droids, but Tyranus reached out, seizing the former Jedi and lifting him into the air with the Force. At the same time he turned, directing a powerful kick at Anakin which sent him crashing into the archway.

_Kill him,_ thought Palapatine as Kenobi began to choke.

Tyranus hurled the man down to the lower level, where he smacked the wall and crumpled, unconscious, onto the floor. Spinning again, Tyranus sent a console crashing down on top of him, but in his moment of distraction, Anakin directed a powerful kick at him and he flew off the landing himself.

Anakin pursued him, leaping down as well, and the fight resumed. Palpatine could feel the boy's anger building, feel him struggling to rely not on _it_ but on the Force. Anakin Skywalker _wanted_ to be a Jedi. He _wanted_ to release his desires, his hunger for revenge against the man who had severed his hand, and allow the Force to direct him. He _wanted_ Kenobi's approval. He had failed to understand though, that the war of conflicting drives within him could also be used to the advantage of the Sith--and Kenobi wasn't watching now. Kenobi was unconscious, half buried under rubble. The time had come to teach Anakin how to make the Force serve _him._

_"_I sense great fear in you, Skywalker. You have hate, you have anger, but you don't use them!" Tyranus told the boy.

Anakin made no response. At least, he made none that Tyranus could hear. Palpatine, however sensed the ice that entered the boy's heart at the words. Because the truth was that Anakin Skywalker _was_ afraid. He was afraid that Count Dooku had seen through all he tried to be--that Dooku understood the rage that boiled within him.

"Don't fear what you're feeling, Anakin, _use_ it!" Palpatine told him. "Call upon your fury. Focus it, and he cannot stand against you. Rage is your weapon. Strike! Strike now!"

The moment of decision came. In a final, rushing attack, Anakin exacted his revenge--not one hand but two. The red lightsaber clattered to the floor along with the hand that held it. The boy reached out, calling it into his free hand. Anakin's feelings clashed and crackled much as the blades that crossed in his hands. Count Dooku, the man who had murdered so many of his fellow Jedi on Geonosis--who had torn the galaxy apart in the name of his own political agenda, now knelt helplessly before him. He had threatened all those that Anakin loved most. Palpatine. Obi Wan. He had threatened _Padme._ Anakin laid the blades at his throat.

"Good, Anakin! Good! I knew you could do it!" Palpatine grinned. "Kill him! Kill him now."

"I shouldn't…" Anakin trailed off, shaking his head.

"Do it!" Palpatine pushed.

"No," the Knight's voice was shaky, breathless.

"He is too dangerous to be kept alive," insisted Palpatine. Lord Tyranus' eyes shot toward him, and he smiled again at the panic he read in them.

"He is an unarmed prisoner. It is not the Jedi Way," Anakin's tone was firm now. He took a step back, warily keeping both blades trained on Tyranus as he ordered "Get up."

_Windu,_ thought Palpatine. The word was a curse. It was Windu's control he sensed in the boy now--something greater than even Kenobi could have taught him. Windu walked the edge of the Dark Side with Vapaad and yet never fell. He would not dare teach the boy such a dangerous form of combat, but its principles wound its way through the Master's teaching. They were part of who he was. Palpatine grit his teeth.

Suddenly, the ship rocked with the force of an explosion somewhere deep in its bowels. The distraction was all that Tyranus needed. With a rage born of panic and desperation, he reached within, burning the last of his own energy reserves to hurl Anakin backward. Caught of guard, the boy sailed through the air, but instinct was enough to send the red lightsaber spinning from his hand in a deadly arc. As he slammed into the wall, the head of Darth Tyranus rolled to the ground despite his insistence upon mercy.

Anakin got up slowly, made his way back to the decapitated corpse and stared. Palpatine could feel his revulsion--but not revulsion at Count Dooku's severed head, or the hands that lay nearby. Anakin Skywalker's gut was twisting in knots because he was _glad_ that his adversary was dead, glad that _he_ had been the one to do the killing.

"I didn't mean to do that," he said, almost pleading.

"You did well, Anakin," Palpatine told him warmly. "I told you he should have been killed. Disarming him was nothing; he had powers beyond your imagination."

"That doesn't matter," Anakin shook his head.

The ship shuddered and the lights flickered, then went out. Hidden in the shadows of the General's chair, Palpatine said in a conspiratorial tone, "Have you never noticed that the Jedi way is not always the _right_ way?"

You don't understand. You're not a Jedi. You can't understand," grated Anakin, struggling for control.

"Listen to me. How many lives have you just saved with this stroke of a lightsaber? Can you count them?" Palpatine pointed out. "It's perfectly natural for you to be glad about it. Perfectly natural for you to want revenge after he took your hand the way he did. And your revenge was justice."

"Revenge is never just. It can't be--"

"Don't be childish, Anakin. Revenge is the foundation of justice. Justice began with revenge, and revenge is still the only justice some beings can ever hope for. After all, this is hardly your first time, is it? Did Dooku deserve mercy more than did the Sand People who tortured your mother to death?"

"That was _different_," insisted Anakin. "You promised we would never talk about that again."

"And we won't. Just as we need never speak of what has happened here today," Palpatine promised. "I have always kept your secrets, have I not?"

"Yes--yes, of course, Chancellor, but--" he broke off as the ship rocked again.

"Anakin, my restraints, please," Palpatine said. "I'm afraid this ship is breaking up. I don't think we should be aboard when it does."

The magnetic locks on his wrist restraints popped open, and Palpatine rose smoothly from the chair. Making for the stairs, he said briskly, "Come along, Anakin, we haven't much time."

Anakin, however, was already moving toward where Kenobi lay. With a wave of his hand, he lifted the console off of his former mentor and knelt to check for a pulse. Palpatine resisted the urge to grit his teeth.

"Anakin, there is no time. We must get off the ship before it's too late," he urged

"He seems to be all right. No broken bones, breathing's all right," said the boy, ignoring his instructions.

"Leave him, or we'll never make it," Palpatine insisted.

Anakin's head snapped up. His voice was cold, as close to contemptuous as Palpatine had ever heard it. "His fate will be the same as ours."

The Sith Lord softly backpedaled. Things would not be as simple as he had hoped. So be it. The boy had more conviction than he had anticipated, but that conviction could still be broken. He held the silence, allowing Anakin to sling his former teacher over his shoulder.

_His fate will be far different from ours, my young friend,_ he smiled to himself as they boarded the lift. _That much I promise you._


	32. What We're Fighting For

As Obi Wan, Anakin, and Palpatine finally stepped out onto the safety of the landing platform, Mace Windu strode away from the Republic gunship to meet them. Palpatine was leaning weakly on Anakin's shoulder, but any fatigue that Obi Wan had felt was washed away with the first breath he took--_real_ air, not the canned and processed oxygen inside a spacecraft. His heart beat faster because it was Coruscanti air, because somewhere on this planet, she was waiting--_they_ were waiting.

"Chancellor, are you well? Do you need medical attention?" Master Windu's voice pulled him from his thoughts. The powerful Jedi gestured over his shoulder toward the ship he'd brought with him. "I have a fully equipped field surgery--"

"No, no, no need," Palpatine assured him. "Thank you, Master Windu, but I am well. Quite well, thanks to these two."

Mace nodded, his eyes moving toward Anakin and Obi Wan. "And you, Anakin? General Kenobi?"

"Never better, Master," Anakin replied, and Windu's lips twitched faintly.

Obi Wan felt a slight hitch in his chest at the interplay, but let it pass as he lifted his fingers to touch the wound on his scalp. "Only a bump on the head. That field surgery must be needed elsewhere."

"It is. We don't have even a preliminary estimate of civilian casualties," Windu's expression turned grim. He waved off the gunship, then turned back and added, "A shuttle is on its way. Chancellor, we'll have you on the Senate floor within the hour. The HoloNet has already been notified that you will want to make a statement."

"I will. I will, indeed." Palpatine agreed, giving the Master a grateful touch on the arm. "You have always been of great value to me, Master Windu. Thank you."

"The Jedi are honored to serve the Senate," replied Windu. Was it his imagination that he heard a subtle emphasis on the word _Senate_? Obi Wan didn't think so.

Mace turned back to Anakin. "Is there anything else to report? What of General Grievous?"

"Count Dooku was there Master," the Knight replied. Then his tone shifted, sounding almost embarrassed, Obi Wan thought. "He's now dead."

"Dead?" Windu's eyes traveled from one to the other of them and back again before finally resting on Obi Wan. "Is this true? You killed Count Dooku?"

"My young friend is too modest; _he_ killed Count Dooku," Obi Wan replied, moving his hand gingerly back to the bump on his head. "I was--taking a nap."

"But…but…" Windu blinked. For a moment, Obi Wan thought he might actually crack a smile. "That is the best news I've heard since--since I can remember. Anakin, how did you _do _it?"

"It was an accident, Master," Anakin replied uncomfortably. "I…I attempted to take him into custody, but…I became distracted. Count Dooku took advantage and threw me back. I had no choice."

"He would have killed you and escaped if you hadn't acted, Anakin," Palpatine spoke up kindly. "If I may say, Master Windu, this young hero is a credit to your training. The entire battle was… extraordinary. I know next to nothing of swordplay of course, but to my amateur's eye, it seemed that Count Dooku may have been a trace overconfident. Especially after having disposed of General Kenobi so neatly. Throwing Anakin the way he did was merely the last act of a desperate man. Our young friend acted every bit the Jedi, especially alone against such a formidable adversary."

Obi Wan felt himself flush, both at the mention of his early exit from the battle and at the reminder of Mace's relationship with Anakin now. Of course he should be a credit to his Master's training--what else would Palpatine have said? Even he could see Mace's hand on the boy's practice of the Jedi Arts--on the boy himself. He had gained a maturity and strength that Obi Wan could not take credit for and wouldn't have presumed to if he could have.

"Obi Wan and I defeated Count Dooku together," the Knight said quietly.

"Of course, my boy, of course," Palpatine smiled apologetically. "I merely thought that perhaps you were a bit more…highly motivated. General Kenobi, after all, was simply doing his duty. You were fighting to save--if I may be so bold as to presume the honor--a friend."

Now Anakin's face became even more red than Obi Wan's felt. The young Knight knew, of course, that no one on the Jedi Council had ever approved of his friendship with the Chancellor. Concerns had been addressed to Obi Wan when the boy was young, and the situation had become a bone of contention between Anakin and Mace.

"Master Windu, we must also report that General Grievous has escaped," Obi Wan spoke up softly, hoping to discreetly redirect the discussion before tensions began to rise. "He is as cowardly as ever."

Mace nodded. "But he is only a military commander. Without Dooku to hold the coalition together, these so-called independent systems will splinter, and they know it. This is our best chance to sue for peace. We can end this war right now."

As he finished the statement, Windu looked directly and rather pointedly into the Chancellor's eyes. Palaptine gave a sad shake of his head. "I'm afraid peace is out of the question while Grievous is at large. Dooku was the only check on Grievous's monstrous lust for slaughter; with Dooku gone, the general has been unleashed to rampage across the galaxy. I'm afraid that, far from being over, this war is about to get a very great deal _worse._"

Obi Wan felt his stomach sink. Grievous was indeed a problem--a dangerous problem, but he was not the mind behind the war. That had been Count Dooku, and with Dooku gone there _was_ a window in which they could act to end the war. It was a small window, though, and if the Jedi Council was going to be at odds with Palpatine, no action would be taken other than to continue the fighting as it was now. The endless, pointless battles would continue, but instead of fighting a single Separatist movement, the Republic would be fraught with the chaos of multiple factions vying for power--unless of course another leader would emerge, and Obi Wan had a sick feeling that he knew who that leader might be.

"And what of the Sith?" he asked. It was beginning to make a twisted kind of sense. Darkness covered everything, not just Coruscant or the Senate. The Sith were the ancient enemies of the Jedi Order--they had no interest in politics except where those politics might lead in some way to galactic dominion. How such a thing could be accomplished--how the Sith could be operating within the power structures of both governments, he could not guess, but if the Republic and even the Jedi could place operatives within the Confederacy of Independent Systems, there was no reason that the Sith could not be acting to control both governments at once. The question of _why_ also plagued at Obi Wan, but what Darth Sidious might be attempting to do by manipulating the Senate was only a small piece of his real strategy. Of that much, Obi Wan was positive.

"Dooku's death should have at least begun the weakening of the darkness, but instead it feels stronger than ever. I fear Master Yoda's intuition is correct: that Dooku was merely the apprentice to the Sith Lord, not the Master," he said.

The shuttle that Mace had spoken of passed by overhead, and the Master turned, walking toward the small-craft dock where it would land. The rest of the group fell into step with the Master and he replied, "The Sith Lord, if one still exists, will reveal himself in time. They always do. A more interesting puzzle is Grievous. He had you at his mercy, Chancellor, and mercy is not numbered among his virtues. Though we all rejoice that he spared you, I cannot help but wonder why."

"I can only assume the Separatists preferred to have me as a hostage rather than as a martyr. Though it is of course impossible to say; it may merely have been a whim of the general. He is notoriously erratic," Palpatine murmured.

"Perhaps the Separatist leadership can restrain him, in exchange for certain..." Mace let his gaze drift casually over the man's head. "... considerations."

"Absolutely not," insisted Palpatine. "A negotiated peace would be a recognition of the CIS as the legitimate government of the rebellious systems tantamount to losing the war! No, Master Windu, this war can end only one way. Unconditional surrender. And while Grievous lives, that will never happen."

The sinking feeling in Obi Wan's stomach deepened. Once he might have agreed in principle, but the Clone Wars had now dragged on beyond all possible reason. Palpatine's determination to defend the Republic bordered on paranoia, and the vast majority of Republic citizens had no interest in the politics behind the war. For them, it was not a war of political ideologies, or even a war between Light and Dark as the Jedi believed it to be. It was real and immediate, it meant hunger and pain and disease--it meant children growing up without their fathers, husbands and wives left with only fleeting moments…memories. All those people wanted was an end to the fighting--and so, honestly, did Obi Wan Kenobi.

"Very well. Then the Jedi will make the capture of General Grievous our particular task," Mace said as they boarded the shuttle. He looked significantly toward both Obi Wan and Anakin, then he to Palpatine again, and added with an intensity that brought some comfort to the war weary general. "This war has gone on far too long already. We will find him, and this war _will_ end."

-----

Standing amid the welcoming party on Chancellor Palpatine's private landing platform, Anakin Kenobi craned his neck to watch the approach of the Jedi shuttle. He held onto Padme's hand with solemn dignity as it set down, but once the little group disembarked, his tightly held composure crumbled, and he broke loose from Padme's restraining hand.

"Dad!" he ducked through the crowd, skirting Palpatine to reach Obi Wan and Anakin, who were still near the shuttle.

"Ani!" the cry came from both men, but it was Obi Wan's arms which swept him off the platform.

He curled his arms around his father's neck in response, felt the general's grip tighten into a fierce hug. Obi Wan's beard prickled as he pressed a kiss into the boy's cheek, but Ani didn't care. He didn't care about anything but having this man's arms around him. They were every bit as strong as he remembered, and through the stale sweat and dust and blood, the still familiar scent brought comfort and security.

He looked down at his father and saw the sparkle of tears in Obi Wan's blue eyes. Then he took in the trickle of blood that ran down the general's head. For the first time, he realized that his father looked tired--more than tired. He looked battered. Ani frowned worriedly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, son," Obi Wan nodded, smiling.

Ani continued to frown, turning to the grinning Jedi beside them, who was slightly tousled but radiated a boundless energy. "Is he, Uncle Anakin?" the boy asked dubiously.

"I promised I'd keep him out of trouble, didn't I?" Anakin winked.

Both men started to move away from the ship, heading toward where Padme stood beaming. Obi Wan laid two fingers on Ani's jaw, turning his head back in the other direction. "How's my boy? Have you taken good care of you mother as I asked you to?"

"'Course," he nodded gravely.

"Good," his father replied. "I knew I could count on you."

HoloNews crews along the pedestrian gangway were already clamoring, but Obi Wan ignored them, his gaze now focused over Ani's shoulder on Padme. As they reached her, he gave Ani a wink and shifted the boy into his uncle's waiting arms.

"Your son is a hero," Padme told him as her arms wound around his neck.

"Is that so?" all Obi Wan saw was her smile. All he felt was her warmth and softness, and a moment later, all he tasted was her lips.

Padme felt tears well behind her closed eyelids. She trembled against him but said nothing, fighting for control. There were so many things she wanted to say, all crowding their way up her already constricting throat, trying to find their way passed lips that refused to form words, wanting only the press of his mouth again. Silently, he kissed her again, more deeply, kissed her until there was no war, or crowd around them or pounding hearts or even Obi Wan and Padme. There was only golden luminosity, timeless unity--the moment became the kiss, was the kiss--and then the moment shattered.

"Hey, are you two coming?" Anakin called. He kept one arm firmly around little Ani, and with the other gestured lazily to indicate the crowd, which was beginning to edge off the platform.

Padme started to pull away and follow, but Obi Wan subtly tightened his arms around her, tugging her back. "I haven't the courage for politics. Besides, someone has to be the poster boy," he added, hoping the joke would be enough to redirect the flow of the conversation.

Ani giggled.

The elder Anakin gave a pained cough. "Poster _man," _he corrected.

"Quite right, quite right," Obi Wan chuckled. "Go meet your public, Poster Man."

"Wait a minute--this whole operation was your idea. You planned it. You led the rescue. It's your turn to take the bows this time."

"You won't get out of it that easily, my young friend," Obi Wan grinned, his hand moving in a reassuring circle against Padme's back as he spoke, silently easing the tension that began to form in her at the mention of the battle. "Without you, I wouldn't even have made it to the flagship. Let's not forget, you rescued me from the Buzz Droids. You killed Count Dooku, and single-handedly rescued the Chancellor, carrying me unconscious on your back, and you managed to land that bucket of bolts safely."

"All because of _your_ training," Anakin said, and though his tone remained exactly the same, Obi Wan caught the subtle reference.

His smile faltered, then widened. "Thank you, Anakin, but really…"

"You deserve all those speeches of your greatness," Anakin told him dryly.

"The endless speeches…let's be fair…you are the hero today, Anakin, and you deserve your glorious day with the politicians," he winced as Padme stepped on his foot.

"All right. But you owe me--and not for saving your skin for the tenth time," Anakin told him finally.

"_Ninth_ time. That--that business on Cato Neimoidia doesn't count; it was your fault in the first place," Obi Wan bantered, tugging his foot out from under his wife's heel. "I'll see you at the Outer Rim briefing in the morning."

Anakin smiled and nodded, moving to set Ani down. Then he paused, and a distinctly childlike expression of glee came over his face. "You wanna come with me?"

Ani nodded eagerly and turned hopeful eyes on his parents. "Can I?"

"I'll have him home in time for dinner," Anakin promised dutifully.

Padme laughed. The first real laugh she'd felt in five months. "All right," she allowed.

The pair hurried off after Palpatine and the retreating crowd. Obi Wan and Padme watched their figures disappear, waited until they were alone, and then turned to one another again. Her hands slid up the sides of his face, and this time she didn't restrain the tears.

He brushed his lips softly against her face, kissing the moisture away. "It's all right," he promised. "I'm here now."

"For how long?" she asked shakily. "Obi Wan, there were whispers…that you'd been _killed…_I couldn't keep it from Ani."

He closed his eyes, anguished. "It _will_ end soon, darling. I promise you. Dooku is dead. It's only a matter of time now. Then we'll all go home. We'll all be together…"

She could feel the sudden, crushing weight of grief and pain as he let the statement trail off. His hand moved instinctively to her abdomen, touching the life within through some Jedi skill that she only half understood. He had often done the same thing in the early months of her pregnancy with Ani, but this would be the first time that he felt the twins. She hoped that the contact would lift the sadness from him, bring back the joy and wonder she remembered from those far away moments on Naboo. He did smile--a genuine smile--but rather than end the sorrow, happiness only mingled with it.

"This should be a happy moment," he said apologetically.

Padme closed her eyes. The simple phrase cut her more deeply than she would have thought. In all the time that he'd been gone, she had pushed her fear of the pregnancy aside. It had been all too easy to focus elsewhere. She could keep her mind on her husband, so far away and beyond her protection; on Ani, who despite all his determination to be what was expected of General Obi Wan Kenobi's only son was still a four-year-old boy in need of comfort and normalcy; on her duties in the Senate and her fears for the future of the Galactic Republic. Now, none of those things seemed to matter, because in her heart she was afraid for her unborn children, afraid for Ani and Obi Wan, who both needed her too much to leave. She had tried not to show it--couldn't show it, because the pregnancy must be hidden--but the evacuation and the battle had been a strain that her body could not afford.

She held him tighter, pressed her cheek to his and breathed in comfort as she had done one long ago night on Naboo. She had been Queen and he a newly promoted Knight of the Republic. He had been her best friend, rescuing her from the clumsy, well meaning Padawan who kept inadvertently stepping on her feet. They had danced that night, and she had been too stupid to see what was right in front of her--that he loved her--that they loved one another. That night was long since over. She knew the truth now, and she drew it into her, let it cleanse her fear and his.

"No matter what happens tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or five years from now, we will be together," she reminded him softly.

"And as long as we are together, we have nothing to fear," he nodded. "I love you, Padme."

"And I love you," she promised. "Always."


	33. A Family's Twilight

"Well," Padme asked with a smile, "What are we going to do with ourselves all afternoon?"

Obi Wan took her hand, pressing it to his cheek as he murmured, "Padme, I have to speak with Master Windu. He's still on the shuttle."

"Speak with him about what?" her fingers tightened on his, and he frowned at the sudden fear he sensed.

"I don't know. He gave me a hand signal asking me to wait before we stood up. I knew you and Ani were out here…"

"And that's why you didn't go with Anakin," she sighed.

"I'll catch up with you if I can. Otherwise, I'll see you at the apartment later," he said.

"It's about Ani, isn't it?" she asked.

"Ani?" his frown deepened. "Why would Master Windu want to talk with me about Ani?"

She bit her lip. "I wasn't kidding when I told you he was a hero. He…on the way to the shelters, we were attacked by vulture droids. I fell, and he used the Force to keep part of a statue from hitting me."

"Are you all right?" he gripped her shoulders, eyes widening with something that was very nearly panic.

"Yes, I'm fine," she assured him. Then she took another breath. "Obi Wan, Ani used Qui-Gon's lightsaber."

"What?" his mouth popped open, and the color suddenly drained from his face.

"We had to evacuate and he wouldn't leave the lightsaber or Anakin's braid behind. When I fell, he--well, I'm not really sure. Bail said Ani jumped off his back, but it happened so fast that by the time he had turned around, it was over. And I couldn't see anything until he was in front of me with the lightsaber in his hand," she explained.

"All right," nodded Obi Wan, still frowning. "Well, I suppose I'd really better speak with Mace then."

"Don't let them take him away," she squeezed his fingers urgently.

"Padme, no one is going to take Ani. He can't be trained without our consent," he assured her.

"Promise me," she insisted.

"I promise," he smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Then he took a step back, held her gaze for a moment to let the words settle between them, and turned back to the shuttle.

Mace waited inside, but neither man spoke until the hatch cycled closed again. Obi Wan walked to the window beside the Jedi, waiting for him to speak. Mace stared out at the skyline for another long moment, then began.

"He is an extraordinary boy."

"Thank you," Obi Wan smiled. "Padme told me what happened."

"The Council will want to speak with him," Mace said softly, clasping his hands behind his back.

Obi Wan closed his eyes. "Padme does not wish him to be trained."

"And you?" Mace asked.

"I told her long ago that I would respect her wishes, and I have," replied Obi Wan.

Mace inclined his head, then lapsed into thoughtful silence. After a few minutes, he said, "It is possible that his actions were purely instinctive."

"But you don't think so," Obi Wan said.

"I don't know. All I know for certain is that your son's destiny is tied somehow to the things that are happening here. With Anakin's…and Palpatine's," the Korun Master replied.

"Palpatine's?" Obi Wan's eyes widened, and it was only with great effort that he didn't take a step backward. "Master Windu, I'm not sure I understand."

"Nor am I. You know my power. I cannot always interpret what I have seen," Windu reminded him. "Be alert. Be mindful of Anakin, and be careful of Palpatine. He is not to be trusted, and his influence on both of them is dangerous."

"Thank you," nodded Obi Wan.

"There is more," Mace continued.

"Somehow I thought there might be," Obi Wan admitted.

"The Council is requesting permission to interview your son tomorrow. After the Outer Rim Briefing," Mace said.

Obi Wan nodded pensively. "I will speak with Padme, but I doubt that she will consent."

"This is not to test his potential as a Jedi, Obi Wan, merely to determine how much of what he did was a conscious use of the Force," responded Mace.

"Perhaps I could bring him to Master Yoda alone. I think Padme would be more inclined to trust his intent…" Obi Wan trailed off.

The Master turned to face him, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.

The former Jedi offered an apologetic smile. "He is…likely to be our only child. She has no dislike of the Jedi Order, but she fears that if he were to be trained as a Jedi she would lose him--lose the relationship she has with him. She wants to be his mother."

Mace nodded again. "Several on the Council feel that he is already too old."

"But, if there has been some…influence…someone training him…" Obi Wan let the thought go unfinished.

"Then we need to know," said Mace quietly.

"Agreed," Obi Wan murmured around the growing tightness in his chest.

"You will bring him to Yoda tomorrow then?" prompted Mace.

Obi Wan nodded.

"Good. Then go home tonight. Enjoy your family," the Master told him, and his lips flickered in the faintest trace of a smile.

-----

Padme's fingers played through his hair. They ran lightly over his shoulder blades and along his spine, eliciting a soft, involuntary shiver as they made their way back to his neck. He closed his eyes as they slid into his hair again, savoring the gentle intimacy and the quiet, soothing rhythm. He lay in the circle of her arms, letting himself flow through the exquisite softness of her skin, the beating of her heart against his cheek, her iridescent joy and his own languid contentment.

The sound of her voice filtered through his awareness too, like the feel of the sheet around them and the touch of their bodies beneath it. She liked the warmth of his breath on her skin, he realized as sound and sensation simply washed over him. Every so often, he murmured an absent response, or shifted subtly to keep her hand in motion.

"Mmm-hmm," he mumbled for the third time in a row, and realized a moment too late that it had been a mistake.

"Obi Wan, are you even listening to me?" she demanded.

His lips twitched, but he managed not to laugh as he replied without opening his eyes, "You said: 'Palpatine kept the entire Loyalist Committee waiting for two hours and then acted as though he didn't know we were there. He wouldn't even hear us out. As if that wasn't enough, when I got home, your son had locked poor Threepio in the closet and eaten half the cake. Which of course gave him a stomachache…'"

Padme _tsked_ softly and rolled her eyes. "Thank you."

"What?" he asked with perfectly feigned innocence... "Was I supposed to go farther back? Before that you were talking about the debate on the new Security Act, which is tomorrow, and you said, 'It's nothing less than a thousand pages of double talk in an attempt to hide the fact that Palpatine is slowly stripping the constitution--"

"Jedi," Padme laughed, shaking her head in fond exasperation.

Obi Wan lifted his head sharply and brought a hand to her cheek, suddenly serious. Gazing intently into her eyes, he shook his head and replied, "No, Padme. Not anymore. Now I'm just your husband."

"Not _just_ my husband," she smiled in reply.

"Oh?" he asked archly.

"Far more," she said, tracing a finger over his lower lip.

He absently kissed her fingertip and asked, "What if your husband is all I have ever wanted to be?"

Padme's answer was a kiss from which they both roused having completely forgotten the question.

-----

Anakin was as good as his word and delivered Ani promptly as Padme was setting dinner on the table. She teased the duo, asking what Jedi skill had told them when to arrive. Anakin replied lightly that it wasn't a Jedi trick at all but the power that good food held over two empty stomachs. Padme, of course, was her mother's daughter, and having heard the Knight profess hunger, she could do no less than invite him to stay.

The meal passed pleasantly for Padme and Ani. Obi Wan and Anakin devoted most of their attention to the boy, and if Padme noticed any strain between the two men, she decided that it would have been dishonest for either of them to pretend to be entirely comfortable. It was one thing to share time together with her and Ani in a public setting such as the landing platform earlier today. It was entirely different for Anakin to share a family meal with them. Both men were aware that Anakin's feelings for her had not changed, although to his credit, the Knight had made no effort to come between her and Obi Wan once she had made her own feelings clear. Still, no matter how much he loved little Ani, it had to be painful for him to watch the interplay of their family, just as it was sometimes difficult for Obi Wan to see him with Master Windu. They loved one another deeply, though, and it was clear that neither wanted a scene tonight. Friendship and family were never perfect, but the war had taught them all to value those relationships despite--or even because of--the things that might have broken the bonds they shared.

After dinner, the two Anakins played on the floor while Obi Wan and Padme looked on from the couch until Padme announced that it was past Ani's bed time. Probably due to the presence of his father, the four-year-old took this news with a minimum of complaint. The last of his resistance melted when Anakin offered to put him to bed. Padme shot a questioning glance at her husband, who shrugged acquiescence, and Ani took his uncle in hand, dragging him off toward the bedroom.

"Who exactly is putting whom to bed?" Obi Wan murmured.

Padme smiled and slid an arm around him, resting her head on his chest. "I like watching your two sons together."

"So do I," Obi Wan agreed. He lowered his lips into her hair and neither spoke, content to rest in comfortable silence. Then, the giggling began from the other room. Obi Wan raised an eyebrow.

"They're up to something," Padme said decisively.

"Of course they are. When aren't they?" replied Obi Wan.

"Do you want me to go?" she offered.

"No," he said with a longsuffering sigh. "I think it's my turn."

"All right," she said, pushing herself erect so that he could move.

Obi Wan walked into the bedroom to find both Anakins crosslegged on the bed--or rather the _elder _Anakin _on _the bed while Ani floated quite calmly above the covers. Anakin had his hands on either side of him, not touching but ready to intervene if need be.

"Anakin!" Obi Wan called sharply.

Ani's eyes popped open and he instantly fell back onto the bed, but Anakin steadied him, and both culprits turned to face the annoyed father with matching grins that were at once devilish and charming.

"Which one?" they asked together.

Obi Wan ran a hand over his face and looked up at the ceiling. He gave his head a shake and eyed them again. "Oh, that's very--very funny."

Anakin winked at his nephew and flipped off the bed, smoothly pulling the covers back at the same time. "Time for bed, young man," he said with a purposely bad attempt at sternness.

"Right," Ani rolled his eyes as he scrambled down on the pillows and waited for Anakin to cover him up and tuck him in. Obi Wan leaned on the doorframe, watching the scene with a smile hidden behind his hand.

When they were finished, the two men walked back out to Padme, where, after a few minutes of small talk, Anakin said goodnight. Obi Wan offered to walk him to the turbolift, and he agreed. Once the door to the apartment slid closed behind them, Anakin turned a troubled expression on his former master.

"I apologize," he said with honest regret.

"For what?" Obi Wan raised his eyebrows.

"I know that Padme doesn't want him to be trained. I shouldn't have shown him how to do that," the Knight admitted.

Obi Wan inclined his head in a gesture that was at once an acknowledgement and a dismissal of guilt. As he started up the hall, though, his own countenance darkened. "Anakin, I need to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Is that the first time you've ever shown him how to use the Force?" Obi Wan asked.

"Of course it is. Why?" the Knight replied.

"Padme and Bail Organa were attacked by vulture droids during the battle when Palpatine was kidnapped. Padme tripped and Ani used the Force to protect her from falling debris," explained Obi Wan.

"Instinct," Anakin said easily. "He was protecting his mother. You asked him to, remember?"

"Possibly," nodded Obi Wan. "But from what Padme described to me, it's also possible that he's been instructed."

Anakin paused in front of the lift doors and turned to look at Obi Wan with wide eyes. "Who?"

"I don't know. And it may be nothing. I just had to ask," the elder offered an apologetic smile of his own.

"I understand," nodded Anakin as the lift arrived. "So…lunch tomorrow after the briefing?"

Obi Wan's smile widened. "It is a rather good cover story."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Anakin smirked.

"Goodnight, old friend," Obi Wan said, giving his shoulder a companionable tap before the Knight stepped into the lift.


	34. Twilight Deepens

Obi Wan walked back inside to see Padme slip into their bedroom. He could also sense their son still awake, and his eyes moved briefly between the two doorways. He crossed his arms and moved deliberately toward little Ani's room.

"I'll be in in a moment," he called to his wife.

"All right…" her voice floated out to him as Ani's door slid open.

In the dim light of a small bedside glowlamp, he could see the bedcovers rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm that mimicked sleep. Ani's head was entirely under the blanket, but Obi Wan knew that the boy was perfectly aware of his presence.

"It's all right, I know you're awake," he smiled.

The covers moved back and Ani peeked over them, waiting to see if his father was displeased before he allowed a grin to spread over his face. Obi Wan's own smile widened, and he stepped inside, absently waving a hand past the door sensor to close it after him. He crossed the room and perched on the side of the bed, smoothing a hand over the boy's unruly red mop.

"You know I've missed you very much," he said quietly.

"Are you going away again?" Ani asked. The resignation in his tone almost made the general wince.

"I may have to. Not tonight, though," he promised.

"Back to the Sieges?" Ani wanted to know.

"I don't know yet," Obi Wan shook his head, fighting another wince at the very notion that he was _having_ this conversation with a four-year-old boy. Ani was far from a typical child. He was as precocious as his mother or his cousin Pooja had been at his age, and although he had never so much as had a midichlorian test, Obi Wan knew already that he could someday be far stronger in the Force than his father. Yet, he _was_ still a little boy, and he deserved the chance to be one. He should be concerned with the bugs that crawled in the Naberries' backyard and how far under the lake he could swim without coming up for breath. The last thing Obi Wan wanted occupying Ani's mind was whether his father might be sent back to the Outer Rim Sieges. The last thing he wanted to hear about was his four-year-old son carrying a lightsaber--_using_ a lightsaber--to defend his mother in a Separatist invasion of Coruscant. He was struck by the uncomfortable sensation of watching his son's lifebe blown about like a leaf caught in a powerful draft--but that wind was the Force, and if Obi Wan Kenobi knew anything, he knew that he must trust in the Force to guide Ani as it had always guided him.

"What about Grievous?" Ani asked.

"I don't think he'll come back to Coruscant, but if he does, we'll be ready this time," Obi Wan replied. "Master Windu told the Chancellor today that the Jedi would make capturing Grievous their top priority."

"The war will be over then, right? When Grievous is caught, no one will be there to lead the Separatist army," Ani said hopefully.

"That's what we're hoping," nodded Obi Wan.

"You and Uncle Anakin should go to catch him then," decided Ani.

"Maybe," allowed Obi Wan. "But right now, you and I need to talk about something."

"What?" frowned Ani.

"When you jumped off Uncle Bail's back and saved your mother. Do you know how you did that?" Obi Wan asked.

Ani nodded.

Obi Wan felt a chill pass through him but released the fear and kept his expression calmly neutral. "Did someone show you?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably, his eyes sliding away from Obi Wan's toward the wall beside the bed. He bit his lip, and reluctantly nodded again. Obi Wan smoothed his hair reassuringly. "It's all right, son. You're not in trouble. You did the right thing, and I'm very proud of you for keeping your mother safe. Now, you must tell me the truth. Who has been teaching you to use the Force?"

"I'm not s'posed to tell," Ani replied, averting his father's gaze.

"Family doesn't have secrets from one another," Obi Wan said gently.

"You and Mom have a secret from Uncle Anakin," the boy pointed out.

Obi Wan blinked and cleared his throat. "Maybe that's a mistake," he admitted.

Ani's gaze flicked uncertainly toward the wall, and Obi Wan reached into the Force himself, trying to gain a better sense of the situation. It wasn't fear the boy felt now…confusion…torn loyalties? He also sensed no Darkness in him; around him, perhaps, but that meant little. The Dark Side seemed to surround everything these days, and it was strongest here on Coruscant. It had clouded the Jedis' abilities to perceive through the Force for years, but he didn't think it would be difficult to see this sort of influence in his own _son._ The boy wasn't old enough to have learned any means of hiding or distorting the perception of him that a trained Force adept could find and interpret. He felt no reason to do so in any case. In the Force, Ani was like the lake at Varyinko, clear and tranquil, reflecting the light around him and magnifying it with dazzling intensity. In the same way that he could peer down through the lake to see the glittering stone and sand below, Obi Wan could see into his son now. Ani was completely open to him, unguarded, his feelings a warm wash of trust and devotion--to Padme and himself, to Anakin, to Bail…to…

_"Qui-Gon?"_ he stared in disbelief.

Ani glanced at the wall again, then looked back and nodded.

"Is…?" Obi Wan moved his own eyes toward the place his son had looked a moment before.

Another nod.

"Can I talk to him?" Obi Wan asked.

Ani turned a questioning look on the wall, then shook his head. "Nope."

Obi Wan's eyebrows rose. "Why…?"

"He says be patient," Ani shrugged.

"Oh. Oh, of course," Obi Wan nodded, taking that news with as much composure as he could muster. He shot the wall an annoyed look. "That's…very Qui-Gon-like of him."

Ani reached out to pat his father's arm with the distinct air of a fellow conspirator. "Don't worry, Dad. He says when you do talk to him, you have to tell him the comlink story anyway."

"Oh," Obi Wan said again, swallowing. "Yes. That will be an interesting conversation, won't it?"

"You're in trouble, aren't you?" Ani laughed.

"Of course not," Obi Wan said dismissively.

"Right," Ani smirked.

"You know, you're entirely too much like your Uncle Anakin," remarked Obi Wan.

"Thanks," said Ani, his smirk widening into a grin.

"You're welcome," his father replied. "Now, listen. Tomorrow, you and I are going to see Master Yoda at the temple. He's going to ask you some questions, and you must answer them truthfully."

"Even about Qui-Gon?" Ani asked.

"Yes, son. Especially about Qui-Gon. Do I have your word?"

"Yes, sir," Ani nodded gravely.

"Good," Obi Wan leaned over to kiss his forehead. "And now it's time for bed."

-----

Padme felt as much as heard her husband leave their son's bedroom. His footsteps paused briefly, then followed her out onto the balcony. She didn't turn, only continued brushing her hair, she felt gooseflesh prickle pleasantly up her arms at the sensation of his eyes on her.

"Everything all right?" she asked softly.

"Mmm," he replied, although she could detect a faintly troubled undertone. She turned toward him, but he smiled and made a halting motion with his hand. "Don't."

"Don't what?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Don't stop brushing your hair," he replied, then he gave a self-conscious chuckle. "I can't tell you how many times I've thought of it. The image of you--standing just like that…"

She flushed, smiling as she turned back toward the skyline and began to move the brush slowly through her hair again. "Like this?"

"Just like that," he repeated in a hushed tone.

Tears welled in Padme's eyes at the sound of it. He rarely let her see how deeply the war affected him, but she knew. In quiet moments like this, when he let something slip that revealed the unspoken hunger he felt--a hunger for warmth and peace and the simple, ordinary sights of the life that should have been theirs. She drew in a breath and pushed the tears away, determined that they would have at least one night when the war did not intrude.

"What were the two of you talking about in there?" she asked casually.

"Ani…says it's Qui-Gon who showed him how to save you," Obi Wan said slowly.

"What?" now she did turn.

"As far as I've ever known, it's…not possible to retain consciousness once you've become one with the Force. Qui-Gon's understanding of the Living Force was…far greater than mine. Ani was telling me the truth. I can only assume that that means Qui-Gon knew something I didn't," he finished with a faintly ironic grin.

Padme found herself giggling. Neither had thought about the implications when she had deceived his Master into letting her use his comlink to talk to Obi Wan on Tatooine. Neither had imagined that those innocent moments of laughter between friends would change both of their lives--would give them a son for whom it now seemed that Qui-Gon felt some measure of responsibility.

"Turnabout is fair play?" she asked, gliding over to slip her arms around his neck.

He pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder, laughing softly. "I suppose."

"I'm so glad you're home," she whispered. "I haven't laughed in--too long."

"Neither have I," he murmured.

"But we're not _home_, are we?" she sighed.

"Soon," he promised.

"I want to have the twins in the Lake Country," she told him. "There are good doctors, and my family could come with us. You'll be there this time."

"Of course I will," he agreed instantly.

She bit her lip at the strain in his voice. Gently raising a hand to his cheek, she whispered, "They are the will of the Force. They have to be. We took every precaution."

He closed his eyes and nodded. Those precautions had included a vasectomy mere weeks after Ani was born. Knowing that another pregnancy would put Padme's life at risk, Obi Wan had wanted to leave no room for "accidents." Unbeknownst to them, a spontaneous recanalization had occurred, the odds of which were already slim. Coupled with the incredibly perfect timing necessary for Padme to have conceived before he and Anakin left to hunt down Ventress, there could be no mistaking that the Force had been responsible for Luke and Leia as much as either of their parents. He would accept that because he had no alternative. Jedi or not, Obi Wan had given his life to the service of the Force. For him, there was no other way.

"I'm not going to die in childbirth, Obi Wan," she said, brushing her lips against his. "The twins are going to live and thrive. I promise you."

He nodded again and returned the kiss, wishing he could truly believe that. He hadn't been lying when he told Mace that Ani was likely to be their only child. There was a distinct possibility that one or both of the twins could die--and where Padme was concerned, "possibility" became "near certainty." There were no absolutes when it came to the future, of course. He also didn't see why the Force would allow Padme to become pregnant under such circumstances if at least _one_ of the children would not survive. That, however, was small comfort to him. After all, the Force had allowed Qui-Gon to die when everything Obi Wan could see indicated that Qui-Gon would have been the best choice to guide the Chosen One in the Ways of the Force. He could not imagine a life in which there was no Padme. She had changed so much in him. Everything kind and noble that he found in himself had come from her, every moment of peace and happiness left to him centered on her, on their son, on the promise of the future they planned to share. She was all the best in him and always had been. It was unfathomable that her warmth and light might be cut off from him, dissipated into the Force to leave him with only the faint echo of memories and the bittersweet hope of watching their children grow up. Yet, he knew it might come to pass, and for the sake of those children, he resolved to accept it. To do less would have been to trade love for obsession, and that would lead him dangerously close to the Dark Side of the Force. He kissed his wife again, a wordless promise that whatever the future held for them, he would not fail her, would not leave their children a legacy of darkness and betrayal.


	35. A Moment In The Light

It still felt slightly strange for Obi Wan to come to here. The Temple had been his home since infancy, but it was the center of a religious life of which he was no longer a part. He had chosen to leave this place and make his home on Naboo with Padme. His position in the Grand Army of the Republic still required him to spend time among the Jedi. They were the official commanders of that army. Although _they_ received their orders from the Galactic Senate, the Senate was mired down in conflict over Palpatine's policies, and except when the Chancellor himself intervened, it was largely content to let the Jedi Council wage the war. That meant that Obi Wan, as a Republic officer, reported to the Council. He had never felt any hint of rejection here, which both surprised him and didn't. The Jedi were his friends, his family, and they had accepted his decision to leave graciously. No one here _enjoyed_ the war; they all hoped, as Obi Wan did, that they could find a way to end it now that Dooku had been eliminated. However, they were also glad that Obi Wan had also chosen to fight beside them, and they welcomed him here without condition or reservation. That in itself was surprising given the history of Count Dooku and the number of Jedi who had fallen to the Dark Side over the last five years. He had expected at least _some _discomfort, even suspicion from those who knew him less well. Instead, he had found that the Jedi treated him, as much as circumstances allowed, exactly as before--as one of them. So it was that when he walked the ancient, familiar halls, the clothes he wore seemed ill-fitting. Despite having unequivocally made his choice, the war often made him feel as though he was living a double life, and he was never more conscious of the fact that he walked in two worlds than when he entered the Temple.

Ani's small hand slipped into his, and he looked down, a smile forming at his son's expression of wide-eyed wonder. "Didn't Uncle Anakin bring you here yesterday?" he asked.

"Mmm-mmm," he shook his head. "We were on the HoloNews. Then we went flying."

"Flying," Obi Wan sighed. "Lovely."

"That's what he told me you'd say," remarked Ani.

"Yes, I'm sure," Obi Wan replied.

"You wanna come next time?" the boy offered.

"Not really," Obi Wan shook his head.

"He told me you'd say that too," Ani smirked.

Obi Wan shook his head. "Come on. Master Yoda's waiting."

"Do you really know Yoda?" Ani asked as he followed his father through the wide, ornate hallway. The name of Yoda was as familiar to Holonet viewers as Anakin Skywalker or Obi Wan Kenobi, although much of the public seemed to have lost their trust in the Jedi Order. Ani, however, held the ancient Master in almost the same class as his two heroes, and that brought a smile to his father's face.

"When I was your age, Master Yoda taught me the ways of the Force," he explained.

"I thought Qui-Gon was your Master," Ani frowned.

"He was. Younglings stay here in the temple before a Master chooses them to be his or her Padawan learner. There are training groups, like where your cousins go to school. Yoda instructed mine, and we became close," related Obi Wan.

"Like you and Uncle Anakin?" Ani tilted his head.

"No…I'd say a bit more like you and Qui-Gon," said his father as they stepped onto a turbolift that would take them to the hall outside Yoda's quarters.

"Oh," Ani nodded. He paused for a moment, then looked up at his father again. "Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you miss it here?" the boy asked.

"Sometimes," admitted Obi Wan. "But I wouldn't trade it."

"Why not?"

"Because if I had stayed here, I could never have married your mother, or had you, or Luke and Leia," smiled Obi wan.

"Oh," Ani gave another nod and his brow creased thoughtfully. He bit his lip, turning that information over in his mind. The lift stopped, and Obi Wan led the way into the corridor. Ani followed, still looking around with a mix of curiosity and awe. "Dad?"

"What?" Obi Wan restrained a laugh.

"I like it here," he said decisively. "It feels good."

"Yes it does," Obi Wan agreed, running a hand lightly over the boy's hair. The Jedi Temple was the greatest nexus of Force energy that the galaxy had ever known. Its ziggurat design focused the Force the way a that lightsaber's gemstone focused a particle stream. With thousands of Jedi here every day contemplating peace, seeking knowledge, and meditating on justice and surrender to the will of the Force, the Temple was a fountain of the light. In this corridor, that light was at its peak intensity. Already, there were echoes of Yoda, like gentle ripples that spread out from the pool of quiet wisdom and tranquility that was the venerated Master. To walk through the door at the end of the hall was like walking into the Force itself.

They made their way to the door, which slid open before Obi Wan had even pressed the chime. Yoda looked up at them, leaning on his gimer stick. Conscious of his son's utter shock at the sight, Obi Wan didn't quite manage to keep the grin off his lips, but he hid it with a deep bow, and forced it away by the time he had straightened.

"Master Yoda, may I present my son," he said solemnly, slipping his right hand onto the boy's shoulder. "Anakin."

"A long time, has it been, young Kenobi," the Master said thoughtfully. "Grown, you have."

Ani stared, saying nothing for several seconds, then he gaped.

"Surprise you, do I, Anakin?" Yoda inquired gently.

"I--" the boy started, then broke off, peering up at his father again.

Obi Wan's fingers tightened on his shoulder in a reassuring squeeze. "It's all right, son. Don't be shy."

"I've never met anyone shorter than me before!" Ani exclaimed.

Yoda blinked.

Obi Wan ran a hand over his face. "I--_did_ tell him that he must answer all of your questions truthfully, Master," offered apologetically.

"Always the best choice, the truth is," nodded Yoda, his expression almost conspiratorial as he regarded the boy. "Come. Talk inside, will we. To the briefing now, your father will go."

Yoda stepped back, inviting Ani inside, and he moved curiously through the door. Then he hesitated, casting an uncertain glance back over his shoulder as Obi Wan's fingers fell away. His father winked.

"I won't be far," he promised.

Ani nodded, accepting that with an ease which gave Obi Wan a slight twinge. He waited for half a second, quelling the uneasiness that tightened his stomach, and turned to go. The door hissed softly closed as he moved away, and he purposely turned his focus toward the briefing room. Whatever happened between his son and Master Yoda was beyond his control. The job before him, however, was not.

-----

Though he had only seen glimpses of the Jedi Temple, Ani decided that he liked Master Yoda's room best of all. The whole space seemed alive with the warmth of the Force, full of a quiet kind of strength that reminded him of his father and yet seemed different--infinitely greater. A hush fell over the usually talkative youngster as he followed the ancient teacher over to the pod chairs and took one while Yoda pulled himself into another.

"Like the temple, do you?" asked Yoda conversationally.

"Yes, sir," Ani replied.

"More of it, you wish to see?" the Jedi continued.

"Maybe," shrugged Ani. The truth was that he didn't particularly care _what_ he did today, as long as he was allowed to be where his father was.

"Ahhh," Yoda murmured. "Miss your father, do you, young one?"

"Yes," Ani nodded. "I wish the war was over."

"Afraid for Obi Wan, are you?" Yoda inquired kindly.

"Sometimes," Ani told him.

"And your mother?" prompted Yoda.

Ani bit his lip. "I'm s'posed to protect her, but…"

"From some things, even the Jedi cannot protect another. Nor should we," Yoda told him.

"I have nightmares," Ani said softly, feeling tears begin to burn in his eyes. Usually, he fought them off, suppressed the pain he felt rather than worry Padme. Her heart was already so often burdened with sadness and worry. Obi Wan had asked him to take care of her, and he always had. He could tell that neither of his parents wanted him to know what they were most afraid of, and so he had never let them see that he understood those fears--that he had seen the same images that his mother had seen. "I see them dying."

Yoda nodded kindly and reached a gnarled hand across the space was between them. His skin was dry and leathery as his palm came to rest against the back of Ani's hand, but reassuring--like his grandfather Ruwee or his grandmother Jobal.

"Hard to see, the future is," he said knowingly.

"I don't want them to die," Ani said.

"Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force, young Anakin. Mourn them, do not. Miss them, do not," advised Yoda.

"How can I not miss them?" Ani scoffed. "They're my _mom and dad!"_

"Remember, you must that in the Force, those who die still remain," Yoda told him.

Ani frowned, considering this. In a way, he knew that Master Yoda was correct. Qui-Gon had become one with the Force long ago, before Obi Wan had even become a Jedi Knight, and he was never far away. He was always there when Ani needed him--sometimes when he didn't. As much as he loved Qui-Gon, though, he couldn't touch the Force Ghost, couldn't hug or wrestle with him, or even smell him on a discarded shirt or a scarf the way that he could his mother and father.

"That's not the same," he said sadly.

"No," agreed Yoda. "The same, it is not. But enough it must be. To crave more leads to obsession."

"Obsession?" Ani asked. He wasn't sure he'd heard the word before, but it left him with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Desire for what we cannot have, obsession is. Refusal to accept the will of the Force. Obsession destroys others, destroys love," the Master said. "In seeking to hold another past the proper time, destroy all around us, we will."

Ani felt himself grow pale and swallowed, nodding. "Like the Dark Man."

"Dark Man?" Yoda asked with a touch of surprise.

"The one in my dreams," Ani sighed heavily. "The one…he kills them."

"Know this _Dark Man_, do you young Kenobi?" Yoda asked with the faintest touch of urgency.

Ani shook his head. "No one lets me get close to him. No one lets me see his face. I think maybe he doesn't have a face. But…I know we have to stop him. If my dad can't. Then we have to do it."

"Heavy are the burdens placed upon such young shoulders," sighed Yoda sadly.

Ani sat straighter, his chin jutting out in response. "I'm strong. Like my father."

"Much like him, you are," agreed Yoda with a trace of amusement. Then he grew serious. "Strong enough to let go of what you fear to lose."

"Let go?" frowned Ani.

"The fear of loss is a path to the Dark Side," explained the Master in a gentle tone, rich with understanding that eased the boy's troubled heart in a way he couldn't explain. "If allowed to rule over you, destroy you, these fears someday will. And destroy those you love most."

Ani let out a loud breath, considering that statement. His brow furrowed deeply. "But…why does my dad fight in the war? He says he wants to keep the Republic safe."

"Your father's duty it still is to serve the Force--to protect life and peace, safeguard the Republic. Wishes his _family_ to be safe, does he. But allow his fear for you to control his actions, Obi Wan does not," explained Yoda.

"Don't focus on your fears," Ani murmured, more to himself than the Jedi.

Though the statement wasn't directed at him, Yoda's sensitive ears swiveled slightly toward his guest. "Learned this from Obi Wan, have you?"

"Mmm-mmm," Ani shook his head. "From Qui-Gon."

The Master's large eyes grew to almost twice their size. Another time, Ani might have laughed, but he felt a shift in Yoda's emotions that told him instinctively that something was wrong. He sucked in a breath and waited, hoping he hadn't managed to offend the oldest and wisest of the Jedi.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, you speak of?" Yoda asked, his voice almost a whisper now. "Your father's old Master?"

Ani nodded, glancing over Yoda's shoulder as Qui-Gon materialized. The ancient Jedi appeared not to notice.

"Impossible this is," Yoda murmured pensively, but Ani knew that, like his father, Yoda was not disputing what he said, merely evaluating. "To be one with the Force one cannot retain consciousness."

Qui-Gon gave the boy a half smile and nodded permission. Ani grinned back. "Master Yoda, he's right there…" he said, pointing over the Jedi's shoulder.

Yoda's eyes widened again, and he turned his head to follow the direction of Ani's finger. As he did so, Qui-Gon's smile also grew wider, and the Jedi Spirit stepped around to stand between the two chairs.

"Often, these past fifteen years has the Force spoken to me in your voice, Qui-Gon," Yoda said, his tone holding the same faint amusement that Ani had detected earlier.

"And now you understand why, my old friend," Qui-Gon replied. "When I became one with the Force I made a great discovery. There is a way to join with the Force, yet retain consciousness. The ability to defy oblivion can be achieved, but only for oneself. It was accomplished by a Shaman of the Whills.

"Eternal consciousness," Yoda's voice trailed off in thought.

"The ultimate goal of the Sith, yet they can never achieve it; it comes only by the release of self, not the exaltation of self. It comes through compassion, not greed. Love is the answer to the darkness," said Qui-Gon.

"To become one with the Force, yet influence still to have..." Yoda mused. "A power greater than all, it is."

"With my help, You can join your light to it forever. In time,You will learn to let go of everything. No attachment, no thought of self. No physical self," Qui-Gon told him.

Ani, listening, felt as though he were on the edge of understanding the Masters' discussion, but that grasp remained just out of reach. He wondered if he might someday understand it, and as the thought entered his mind, Qui-Gon glanced at him.

_It can be yours to learn, if you wish it. But for now, patience_, he heard.

"Much to learn, there still is," Yoda said pensively.

Before either Jedi could say more, the door chime sounded, and Ani started to scoot out of the pod chair. He quickly remembered himself, though, and halted, awaiting dismissal from Yoda. The Master waved a hand gracefully toward the door, and Ani turned to see it open. Both Obi Wan and Anakin crossed the threshold and came to stand beside the chairs. They bowed respectfully, then Obi Wan looked curiously from Ani to Yoda and back again.

"Are we interrupting, Master Yoda?" he asked. Qui-Gon's smile became distinctly mischievous, and it was then that Ani realized that his father and uncle were still unaware of his presence. He stifled a laugh.

"Nearly finished, are we," replied Yoda. "Only one question remains to be asked. A question for which you also must be here, Obi Wan."

Obi Wan's face betrayed no surprise. In fact, he showed no reaction whatsoever. Despite this, Anakin Kenobi could feel both hope and trepidation in his father. He didn't have to wonder what question it was that Yoda wanted to ask. He closed his eyes as the dream images began to flash through his mind, and knew what his answer would be.

"Before you, this path has been placed, Anakin," the ancient Master said quietly. "Yours alone, the decision must be. Make it for you, your mother cannot. If wish it you do, remain here you may, and learn the ways of the Force as my own Padawan."

Ani bowed his head, then looked slowly up into the wizened old face. "Master Yoda, I want to stay with my father," he said simply and without apology.


	36. The Skywalker Special

Anakin and Obi Wan borrowed a temple speeder for the lunch date, and Ani thought it was exceedingly funny that the pair of war heroes had to promise _repeatedly_ that it would be returned in one piece before they were allowed to leave. Despite having had absolutely no intention of letting Anakin drive, a pleading look from his son was all it took for Obi Wan to find himself slinking into the back seat while his former Padawan took the controls. Once there, he strapped himself in as tightly as he could and kept a wary eye on the pair in the front of the vehicle.

"Now, listen, Anakin, we have _Ani _with us--"

"I'm well aware of that, Obi Wan," said the Knight, leaning over to tighten the boy's safety harness.

"Yes, well, that means you need to go _slow--"_

"I don't like to slow, Dad," Ani interrupted, peering over the edge of the front seat to grin at his father.

"Of course you don't," sighed Obi Wan. "Why would you? Your name is Anakin."

"I think he's starting to catch on," the elder Anakin remarked with a wink at his namesake.

"Very funny," replied Obi Wan, who was completely unable to see his son mouthing the words as he spoke them.

Anakin took off, and Obi Wan was only mildly surprised when they reached Coco Town alive. Without the excuse of a criminal to pursue, there had been no abrupt drops through the air, barrel rolls, or narrowly-avoided midair collisions. Weaving in and out of traffic and blatant disregard for the established speed limit, however, were a completely different story. All things considered, Obi Wan decided that the trip had gone remarkably well. He had managed to keep down his breakfast, no one had lost a lightsaber, and Ani had shrieked and giggled the entire time. All he had to do was make sure that Padme _never_ heard about any of it, but since they already weren't planning to inform her of where they were taking her only child for lunch, he didn't think that would be very difficult.

They had to park about a block away from the diner at this time of day. The business section of Coco Town was teeming activity. Beings of every description bustled through the streets on their way from one seedy establishment to another. The air was thick with the mingled aromas that wafted from various restaurants, industrial smog and the belching smoke of a backfiring vehicle a few feet away. The streets here fascinated Ani just as much as the Jedi Temple had. He had questions about everything. Sights and sounds that the two men had long since absorbed as part of the background of this colorful section of the city were new and amazing him, and as they reached Dex's, Obi Wan almost didn't want to take him inside. He felt an irrational urge to prolong the outing, to squeeze in just a few more questions and answers, a few more moments when the war was only a faint tug in the back of his mind and he could watch his son's face light up in response to every answer that he or Anakin provided.

"Is this where we're going for lunch?" Ani asked, eyeing the brightly colored metallic walls and foggy windows of the diner with both surprise and excitement.

"The best eats in the Coco Town streets," Anakin replied, looking down at him with another wink.

Watching them, Obi Wan felt a surge of profound gratitude toward his former Padawan. It was to him that Obi Wan and Padme owed their son's life--a debt that neither could ever repay, and one that Obi Wan had never felt more keenly. He knew that there had been a time before Ani had even existed, that he had felt happiness and contentment before, but he could hardly remember it now. Life without this child was now unthinkable--the notion of joy in a world where Anakin Kenobi had never lived was utterly impossible to him. The young Knight looked up at him and smiled, sensing his former teacher's emotions. Then he bent casually and swung the boy into his arms, letting Ani wrap his arms and legs around him as they moved through the door. Obi Wan saw Anakin's arms tighten around his son and smiled, the gesture seeming to him a wordless promise of devotion, that his commitment to Ani, which had begun with that single, instinctive act was had become something far deeper--something unbreakable and binding, as powerful as the love that Obi Wan felt for both of his sons.

"Can I help ya?" asked the familiar voice of WA-7, the diner's waitress droid as they stepped inside.

"We're looking for Dexter," Obi Wan replied pleasantly.

WA-7 made a rather unpleasant sound. Ani's eyes widened, but neither Obi Wan nor Anakin were particularly surprised at the reception. Both men were obviously not regulars, and Dex's past was…colorful. His staff and customers were nothing if not loyal, and though Obi Wan had known him since his days as Qui-Gon's Padawan, neither he nor Anakin had had much time for social visits since the Battle of Geonosis. They looked quite different than they had five years ago, even if the droid's memory stretched that far back. Whether it did or not, the public was largely distrustful of Jedi, and Anakin's clothing marked him unmistakably as a member of the Order.

"We do need to speak with Dexter," Obi Wan told the droid in the same polite and even tone.

"Whaddaya want him for?" came the response.

"He's not in trouble. It's personal," the general promised.

"Tell her who you are, Dad," Ani suggested.

"Hmmph!" sniffed the droid, giving the boy a suspicious look. "Doesn't matter to me if he's _Obi Wan Kenobi_. He's still gotta go through me."

"Right," Ani grinned.

Obi Wan held a finger to his lips, stifling a laugh.

WA-7 looked the trio up and down for another long moment, _hmmphed _again, and shook her head. She moved off to the serving hatch behind the counter and called, "Some people to see ya, honey. One of 'em's a Jedi, by the looks of 'im."

Seconds later, a huge head poked through the open hatchway along with a stream of grayish and decidedly unappetizing steam. A gigantic, block-toothed smile--on a mouth easily large enough to have swallowed the humans whole- grew on the immense face of Dexter Jettster at the sight of the company.

"Obi Wan! Anakin!" he called cheerfully.

"Oh…" WA-7 said with quiet chagrin.

"Hey, Dex," the two men chorused.

"Take a seat, fellas, I'll be right with ya," Dex told them.

Anakin set his namesake down, and the boy's head swiveled around to take in everything in the greasy establishment. From the booths along the walls to the freestanding tables to the stool-lined counter populated mostly by dockworkers and freighter drivers, Ani missed nothing, and if it were possible, his eyes seemed to get bigger with every turn of his head. WA-7 had gone back to serving the regulars, and Obi Wan smiled down at his son.

"Pick a spot," he said.

Ani took another look around, then led them over to a booth by the window. Obi Wan and Anakin slid in on either side, and Ani clambered up beside his father. He had to stay on his knees to reach the table, but this fact didn't deter him from reaching for a handful of the napkins on the table and beginning to shred them.

"Don't make a mess," Obi Wan said automatically.

"Why not?" the elder Anakin asked.

"Because…" Obi Wan trailed off in exasperation as Anakin took his _own_ napkins and started ripping them apart.

WA-7 rolled over to them, looking at Anakin as if she wasn't quite sure what to make of him. "You fellas want some Jawa Juice?" she asked, her head moving between the two men.

"Oh, yes, thank you," Obi Wan said.

Anakin looked up from the mess in front of him and grinned, nodding in agreement. "Thanks."

The droid _tsked_ and turned to Ani. "What about you, honey? How 'bout a nice big piece of cake?"

"Mmm, I love cake!" Ani's head bobbled eagerly. "Thank you."

"Cake sounds good too," Anakin spoke up.

"You don't need any cake," Obi Wan jabbed a finger at his friend. Then he gave the waitress a meaningful look. "And I think we'll save _Ani's _cake until after lunch."

"I could just _have_ cake for lunch," Ani suggested, wriggling his eyebrows hopefully in his father's direction.

"No, you couldn't," Obi Wan replied.

"Please?" Anakin entreated from the other side of the table.

"No one is having cake for lunch," Obi Wan insisted, rolling his eyes at his friends antics.

"C'mon, Dad…" Ani attempted.

"_No. _Your mother would kill me," Obi Wan said sternly.

"She's already gonna kill you," Anakin reminded him.

"Why?" Ani frowned.

"Never mind," the two men said together.

"Huh?" Ani asked.

Obi Wan sighed. "Let's just say, if your mother asks what we had for lunch, you let Uncle Anakin do the talking."

"Me?" Anakin cried.

"We had a deal, remember?" Obi Wan pointed out.

"Oh. Right," the Knight nodded, loosening his collar a bit uncomfortably.

"What deal?" Ani wanted to know.

"Never mind," they repeated.

"You two are weird," Ani told them flatly.

"Hey, fellas," WA-7 spoke up. "Hate to break this up, but there _are_ customers waitin'."

"Oh, of course--" Obi Wan started, but Anakin smoothly cut him off.

"Terribly sorry. He gets a bit excited sometimes," the Knight smiled, tilting his head to indicate Obi Wan. He gave the droid a conspiratorial wink. "All this time on the Outer Rim, all he's talked about is how much he wanted a big, greasy old fried nerfsteak from Dex's."

"I think we can handle a pair of nerfsteaks for ya, sweetie. You two are heroes, even if ya are Jedi," the waitress replied.

Anakin's smile faltered momentarily, but he only nodded. "How about some pickled Garto eggs on the side?"

"Will do," said the droid.

"I want one too, Uncle Anakin!" Ani grinned.

"You're not going to eat a whole nerfsteak," Obi Wan protested.

"I am too!" he insisted.

"Make it three," Anakin said smoothly.

"Oh, come on, Anakin!" complained Obi Wan.

The Knight spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Hey, a deal's a deal. It's not my fault if you didn't feed him a big enough breakfast."

"Padme fed him breakfast," Obi Wan shot.

"Still not my fault," retorted Anakin.

"You don't have to enjoy it quite so much," Obi Wan pointed out.

Anakin shrugged in the same helpless manner. "I can't help it if you're the one with the Republic credits in his pocket, _General Kenobi._ Jedi don't own anything, remember?"

"Right," Obi Wan sighed as Dexter Jettster lumbered out through the counter door and plodded over to them. The Besalisk's giant pot-belly protruded between his grimy shirt and pants. He was bald and drenched in sweat from the hot kitchen, with four powerful arms that could make fists bigger than Obi Wan's head.

"Hey, ol' buddy!" he bellowed, reaching straight over Ani's head to lift the general easily out of the booth.

"Hey, put my father down!" Ani cried, watching in open mouthed astonishment. Dex set Obi Wan on the ground again, but Ani's amazement only increased as his father was engulfed in a four-armed hug.

The process was repeated with Anakin, by which time WA-7 had rolled off again to wait on someone else. Once Dex had finished crushing Anakin and released the Knight, he turned his attention toward Ani, who was still staring at them from the booth.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"Dex, I'd like you to meet my son," Obi Wan smiled, straightening his clothes after the manhandling. "Ani, this is Dexter Jettster."

"Hi…" Ani said, still slightly awestruck.

"Ani, is it?" Dex asked, beaming from him to Anakin. "That's cute."

"Uncle Anakin saved my life," related Ani. "When I was just born."

"Yeah?" Dex sounded impressed, but not overly surprised.

Anakin ducked his head in embarrassment.

"He's good at that, ain't he?" remarked Dex with a wink. "Saving Kenobi butts."

"I think so," Obi Wan agreed.

'Well," said Dex. "Only one thing for it. Free lunch for everyone. Call it the Skywalker Special." 


	37. Nightfall

Padme found both Obi Wan and Anakin on the floor with her son when she walked into the apartment. Ani scrambled up and ran over to hug her. He rested his cheek against her abdomen, then craned his neck and grinned up at her.

"Did you stick it to that old Chancellor, Mom?" he asked.

Anakin tensed, shooting a hard look between her and Obi Wan. Her husband looked back apologetically, and Padme fought a tired sigh. Running her fingers through her son's hair, she murmured, "No, Ani, I didn't."

"Dad said you were gonna," he frowned in disappointment.

"I guess Dad made a mistake," Padme smiled, gently disentangling herself from his embrace. As she threaded her way past Obi Wan to the couch, her hand drifted automatically to his cheek. With the same almost unconscious air, he turned his head to kiss her fingers as she passed.

"Dad don't make mistakes," Ani declared, flopping back down between him and Anakin. "Right, Uncle Anakin?"

"Dad makes a lot of them," Obi Wan spoke up quietly, hoping to rescue the suddenly charged atmosphere.

Anakin coughed. "Maybe I should go."

"Not yet, Uncle Anakin!" Ani pleaded. "You said you'd stay for dinner again!"

"Yes, Anakin, you have to stay," added Padme, leaning forward on the couch to rest her hand on the Knight's shoulder.

He craned his neck to look at her and smiled faintly. "How can I resist an invitation like that?"

Padme smiled in return, then let her gaze move to encompass her husband and son. "What about you, Ani? How was your talk with Master Yoda?"

"He's short," Ani shrugged.

"Short?" Padme laughed.

"Real short," nodded Ani.

"That's it?" Padme tilted her head expectantly.

Ani shrugged again.

"Well, what did you and he talk about?" his mother wanted to know.

"Force stuff, Mom," replied the four-year-old with a patient shake of his head. "I don't think you'd get it."

"Oh, I see," Padme nodded seriously, ignoring the fact that Obi Wan and Anakin were now both hiding snickers behind their hands. "Well, what did you do after you talked to Master Yoda?"

"I'm not s'posed to tell you," Ani replied.

Padme's eyes widened, then narrowed. She cast a suspicious glare at the two men, who had suddenly stopped smirking. Then she smiled brightly at her son. "Why aren't you supposed to tell me, Ani?"

"Uncle Anakin's s'posed to do the talking," he explained.

"Oh?" Padme arched an eyebrow.

"They have a deal," nodded Ani.

"And what deal is that?" she asked.

He shrugged.

Padme turned to Obi Wan, who feigned a bright smile. Clearing his throat, he shrugged and gestured weakly toward Anakin. Tapping her long nails on the arm of the couch, Padme looked expectantly at the Knight.

"Obi Wan needed a distraction during the rescue. You know, Padme, something to settle his nerves," he started.

"A distraction? I thought distraction was to be avoided," she said.

"You know," replied Anakin smoothly. "Just something to help take his mind of how much he hates flying."

"Of course," smiled Padme. "And you distracted him how?"

"Just a little bet," Anakin explained with a dismissive wave.

"The kind of bet that Ani wasn't supposed to tell me about?" she persisted.

Anakin shook his head and gave a slow shrug, indicating that he had no idea what Ani might mean. Padme eyed him in disbelief. He pushed out his lower lip in thought and cleared his throat again.

"You know kids. He probably just misunderstood," he attempted.

"Of course," Padme replied, still not believing a word.

"See?" nodded Anakin. "Nothing to worry about."

"Except that you still haven't answered my question," Padme reminded him.

"I haven't?" Anakin frowned.

"No."

"Oh. Well, um…" he glanced at Obi Wan again.

"Only a lunch date, darling," smiled the general before shooting his former Padawan a glare. "Wonderful explanation."

"Don't look at me. You're the Negotiator, remember?" Anakin pointed out.

"Yes, and you are supposed to be the Hero With No Fear," Obi Wan retorted.

"Separatists and Sith Lords, I can handle," shrugged Anakin. "Annoyed mothers are best left to those with a smoother approach."

"Why thank you," Obi Wan rolled his eyes.

"Of course, General," Anakin inclined his head.

Realizing that the duo could keep this up indefinitely, Padme pressed a palm to her forehead. Shaking her head, she turned to her son, who was watching the banter with mischievous grin, and asked, "What did you have for lunch, Ani?"

"That's what Uncle Anakin's s'posed to tell you," he shrugged.

Obi Wan and Anakin both hissed and winced painfully. Padme eyed them again. She said nothing for a minute, then her mouth popped open. "Obi Wan Kenobi! Did you let him have cake for lunch?"

"Of course not!" he replied, managing to work up enough indignation that she didn't doubt him.

"He said you'd kill him if he gave me cake," Ani related.

"He was right," Padme said flatly. "So what _did _you have?"

He glanced nervously at his father and uncle. "Uncle Anakin better 'splain it."

Padme waved her hand. "Nevermind them. I want you to explain it."

"We had the Skywalker Special," Ani confessed with a heavy sigh. He hung his head, shoulder slumping as if he had just admitted to taking off Threepio's head and putting it on backwards again.

"What's the Skywalker Special?" Padme asked, looking from one culprit to another in confusion.

"Nerfsteak," Ani continued in the same tone.

"Nerfsteak…?" asked Padme. It was a common enough food. The shaggy herbivores were native to Alderaan, but raised now on many other planets throughout the galaxy. Their meat was used in a variety of foods, in fact, and Padme had no objection to serving it herself. There had to be more going on than that.

"Fried nerfsteak," Ani nodded.

"_Fried_ nerfsteak?" Padme forced a smile as she began to understand.

"Pickled Garto eggs too," Ani looked up at her apologetically.

"And would this pickled Garto eggs and fried nerfsteak happen to have been at Dex's Diner?" Padme asked pleasantly.

"Mmm-hmm," Ani nodded. "Dex is funny, too. He picked Dad and Uncle Anakin right up and hugged 'em. Like they were _my _age!"

"Sometimes I think they _are_ your age," Padme replied.

"Ani," said Obi Wan with a smile, "Why don't you take Uncle Anakin inside and show him your room?"

"He already _saw_ my room, Dad," Ani reminded his father with a raised eyebrow.

"Show him your room again," Obi Wan told him pointedly.

"Yeah, I might've missed something," Anakin nodded, scrambling hurriedly off of the floor.

"I know. I always miss the good stuff," Ani sighed, more to himself than the adults. He climbed to his feet as well, trudging obediently off in the direction of his room.

Anakin followed, and when the door had closed behind them, Padme crossed her arms. Obi Wan gave her a winning smile, to which she returned a scowl. His smile faded and he glanced at the floor, stroking his mustache uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," he offered.

"Then why did you take him into Coco Town?" she asked.

"It…seemed like a good idea at the time…?" he trailed off, biting his lip. "Look, Dex is my friend. The fact that he lives and works in Coco Town doesn't make him dangerous or a bad influence on Ani."

"His past does," Padme pointed out.

"Everyone has a past," Obi Wan reminded her.

"I know that. And you don't have to lie to me or go behind my back. I thought you _knew_ that," she frowned.

"I just didn't want to worry you, or--fight over nothing. Honestly," he held up his hands in a profession of innocence.

"Are you sure it didn't have anything to do with the thrill of getting away with something?" she asked, a smile beginning to play over her lips.

He lowered his chin to give her a mock-stern glare. "Now. What would _you _know about that?

"I don't know, maybe a thing or two," she smirked.

He smiled and pushed himself off the floor. Sliding onto the couch beside her, he curled an arm around her shoulders and drew her against his chest. "Am I forgiven?"

"Well…I guess you can be forgiven. This time," she grinned.

Anakin stayed for dinner again, but tensions broke out between him and Obi Wan shortly afterward. Padme was tired after the long hours and stress of the Senate's debate, and as she often had during this pregnancy, she was experiencing sharp abdominal pain which made it difficult to move and almost impossible to maintain the air of a gracious hostess. She had learned to ignore the discomfort in most situations, but there was no way to hide it from two men trained in the ways of the Force. Obi Wan immediately knew what was wrong, and though Anakin did not, his senses were strong enough to tell him that _something_ was amiss. Both of them began to hover, and quickly found themselves clashing in their efforts to make her comfortable.

"Here, darling," said Obi Wan, hurrying up from the table to offer her his arm. "Why don't you come sit down?"

She nodded and slipped her arm through his, letting him guide her to her feet, and by the time she was standing, Anakin had reached her other side. She started to protest that she was fine when another pain shot out from her womb, and she instinctively tightened her grip on her husband's arm.

"Let me help," Anakin said. "Are you all right, Padme?"

"Yes," she nodded, forcing a reassuring smile to her lips. "Thank you, Anakin. I--I guess something didn't agree with me."

"Are you sure that's all?" he frowned.

"Of course she's sure, Anakin," Obi Wan cut in as they moved out of the kitchen.

"I only wanted to be certain," Anakin said stiffly.

"Well, let's worry about it when she's sitting down, all right?" Obi Wan replied pointedly.

Anakin glared at him over Padme's head, and she pressed her eyes closed. Obi Wan stared back, and finally Anakin inclined his head.

When they escorted her to the couch and both attempted to offer her the same pillow for her back, Padme knew that the situation was quickly going to become untenable. Watching from the doorway, Ani gave her a worried look and bit his lip. She raised a hand to her face and massaged her eyes with the tips of her fingers.

"Thank you. Both," she smiled from one to the other. "But I think I'm going to lie down."

Anakin took the hint, and a wounded look crossed his face as he drew back. "Very well. I should be going, then. Goodnight, Padme."

"Goodnight, Anakin," she smiled again, more gently this time, but he was already backing away.

He took a few steps and spun, striding toward the door. Padme saw a concerned frown darken her son's face, and she closed her eyes against the sudden threat of tears. Obi Wan's hand moved comfortingly to her shoulder, but the warmth of his touch didn't reach the knot of cold that was forming in the pit of her stomach.

"Bye, Uncle…" Ani's voice trailed off as Anakin swept into the hall.

"Come on, Ani," Obi Wan sighed, pushing himself to your feet. "Let's have your bath and let your mother rest."

Ani slowly turned his gaze away from the door. He frowned softly, but his father walked over and offered him a hand. The frown melted as he took it, and Padme watched the pair disappear up the hall toward the 'fresher. She smiled, though her throat tightened with sudden tears, and she placed her left hand protectively on her belly where the twins were still restless. Her left arm rose to wipe her eyes on the edge of her sleeve, and she waited there until she heard the water for Ani's bath start to run. Then she reached for the arm of the couch and pulled herself to her feet.

She wasn't quite sure why Anakin's abrupt departure had shaken her so much. It always hurt to realize that she had become the dividing force between him and Obi Wan, but she had resolved long ago that she would not allow Anakin's feelings for her to mar her family's happiness. The war forced them to spend so much of their time apart that the last thing she wanted was to have their brief moments together clouded by tension and jealousy. Obi Wan needed _positive_ memories to hold on the front lines even more than she needed them here at home. She wanted to give them to him, and yet it seemed that _he_ was the one able to accept Anakin's behavior where she could not. As she slipped thorough the bedroom door, she tried to tell herself that it was the pregnancy which was affecting her so deeply. It made her overly sensitive and emotional; she was fatigued--more so, in fact, than she had been with Ani, because she was not only often in pain but had to pretend that she was not, had to maintain the appearance of physical strength and activity. Her deepest feelings, though, whispered of something more--something coming, and Padme sank down on the bed and buried her face in her hands, certain that this war, which had changed them all so much already, had more in store for her family. All of them.


	38. Luminous Moments

Like most of the apartments at 500 Republica, the Kenobis' 'fresher was outfitted with a sonic shower, which was both more efficient than a water bath and far more revitalizing. For Ani, however, a water bath was an absolute necessity. Where else could a boy who spent much of his time in Naboo's lake country race his speeder boats? There was a collection of them arranged on the shelves beside the bath itself, where they would be easily within reach. Ani was notorious for being more interested in the boats than in the removal of dirt from his body.

So, after drawing the water, Obi Wan remained to supervise the affair. He was surprised to find, however, that his son offered little resistance once he made it clear that there would be no speeder boat races until the boy was clean. He assumed that the unexpected compliance was due to the fact that his presence at bath time was still a novelty. Further, he decided that the best thing for him to do under the circumstances was to enjoy it, since he was not naïve enough to believe that it would last.

Hair washing, it seemed, had become a ritual of epic proportions. A washcloth must be held strategically over Ani's face, tightly enough to prevent even a trace of clean water to sting his eyes. If a bit of water did manage to reach his closed eyelids, a towel must quickly be produced . Ani would then trade the washcloth for a section of towel--which must be completely dry in order for him to mop his face sufficiently enough that he could see. Obi Wan didn't bother trying to point out that, since his eyes had been _closed_ underneath the washcloth, he wouldn't have been able to see anyway. Once his hair was sufficiently wet, shampoo could not be administered until it had been warmed in his father's hand for at least fifteen seconds. Then, Ani must be allowed to test it by dipping a finger into the waiting gel to make sure that it was warm enough. When Obi Wan made the mistake of asking _why_, Ani's response was a dramatic shudder which splashed bath water on both the beleaguered father and the floor around them.

"Otherwise it's cold!" Ani explained. "Makes me shiver."

"Oh," nodded Obi Wan, casting an amused look at the wet floor and then at his own drenched clothing. "Can't have that, can we?"

Ani shook his head, then touched the shampoo in his father's palm experimentally. He gave a ponderous frown and then finally nodded. "I think it's good, Dad."

"All right," Obi Wan said. "Close your eyes again."

Ani obediently squeezed his eyes shut and groped for the washcloth, which he pressed over his face again. "Ready," he announced, his voice muffled behind the wet cloth.

Obi Wan managed to finish the job of shampooing and rinsing his son's hair with only a half dozen "towel breaks," which Ani informed him quite seriously was an impressively small number for a first-time hair washer. He wasn't at all surprised to discover that the painful sting of shampoo in the boy's eyes did not bring about any screaming or whining. It hurt, of course, but Ani was far more concerned with his inability to _see_ with soap in his eyes than he was with the fact that it felt uncomfortable.

By the time it was done, naturally, the bath was getting cold. Ani had to get out while it was drained and fresh water drawn. Then, before he could climb back in, he had to be allowed to test the temperature in order to prevent shivering in the event that it was too cold. Obi Wan decided that it would simply be better not to mention that the boy had been standing stark naked beside him--dripping wet, no less, because he had been too concerned with the faucet and the water temperature to think about drying himself--for more than a minute without shivering at all.

Once the water was deemed warm enough, he splashed his way back in, this time managing to drench not only Obi Wan's clothes but his face as well. How this feat had been accomplished, the general was honestly not sure. One moment, he had been calmly sitting on the side of the tub, and the next there was bath water splattering his face.

"Oops," giggled his son.

"You know," he remarked conversationally as he wiped his face. "The last time I gave you a bath, you were so small you could fit in the sink in Grandma Jobal's kitchen."

"How old was I?" asked Ani, who was busily engaged in scrubbing his elbow.

"I think you were about a week old," Obi Wan replied.

"Oh. How's this?" Ani asked, holding up his elbow for Obi Wan's inspection.

"Good. Do the other one," his father told him.

"Okay," the boy nodded. He finished his arms, then moved on to his chest, whistling contentedly to himself as he soaped and rinsed. When he was finished, he looked up at his father and frowned. "Why was Uncle Anakin so mad at you?"

"He wasn't. He was worried about Mommy," Obi Wan replied, mildly surprised at the turn of the conversation. "Lean forward, let me get your back."

"He seemed mad to me," Ani said, bending forward to allow his father enough room to scrub his back.

"Sometimes when people are worried, they allow their fear to make them angry. Uncle Anakin wasn't upset with me. I was just…a convenient target," sighed Obi Wan.

"Master Yoda says Jedi aren't s'posed to let fear control what they do," Ani told him.

"Master Yoda is right. But, the path of the Jedi is not easy. No one is able to follow it perfectly," said Obi Wan.

"I thought Uncle Anakin wasn't afraid of anything," Ani said.

"Everyone is afraid sometimes," smiled Obi Wan.

"How can The Hero With No Fear be afraid?" questioned Ani.

"That's just a name given to him by reporters," his father explained with a shrug. "They don't know him as well as we do."

"He _is_ a hero!" Ani declared.

"Of course he is. Your Uncle Anakin has saved millions of lives. He's saved your life. And mine--more times than I can even remember. Even if has been afraid, Ani, he has never let me down," Obi Wan replied, then absently waved a hand, warning, "Water on your back."

Ani twisted his head in time to see a small fount of bath water rise behind him. His eyes widened at the sight of it, then his mouth popped open as the stream arched and poured itself down over his back. He wriggled under it but didn't try to escape.

"Mom uses a cup for that, you know," he said.

"I know," Obi Wan winked.

"C'n I have my race now, Dad?" Ani asked.

"Yes," grinned Obi Wan. He watched as Ani dove for the boats and carefully set them in a row in front of him. He gave each of them a flick to send them to the other end of the tub, then dragged his hand through the water to bring them back again. When he had them, he repeated the process several more times, alternating which boat he launched first, but invariably the one that started first was the one that reached the other end of the tub first. He didn't seem disappointed by this, but Obi Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully and murmured, "You know, son, there's another way to do that."

"What do you mean?" asked Ani.

Obi Wan stood up, his fingers still moving unconsciously over the whiskers on his chin. Padme's objection had always been that she didn't want their son sent to the _temple_. Obi Wan had resisted the idea of training the boy himself because he hadn't wanted to risk creating a dynamic with him that was as fraught with tension and conflict as the one that he had shared with Anakin. Ani's temperament was quite different from his namesake's, though, and Qui-Gon had effectively taken the decision of whether he should learn the ways of the Force out of his parents' hands. In some mysterious way that Obi Wan did not yet understand, Qui-Gon was also _one_ with the Force despite the fact that he retained an individual consciousness. Therefore, if Qui-Gon was willing to initiate the process of training Ani, then there could be no question that it was the will of the Force for the boy to learn. Jedi or not, Obi Wan Kenobi served the Force, and though he would do nothing to take away from the relationship that Ani had developed with Qui-Gon, he wanted--had _always_ wanted--to share that aspect of himself with his son.

"Come out here and put your pajamas on, and I'll show you," he murmured.

"Okay, Dad," Ani agreed eagerly.

Obi Wan could tell that he either knew or strongly suspected what it was that they were about to do. He scrambled out of the tub, further splashing water everywhere, and could hardly be concerned with drying himself off. As such, there were several places in which the fabric of his pajamas wound up sticking to his still-damp skin. Wet clothes didn't bother him though, and Obi Wan resisted another grin, gesturing toward the tub, where the toy boats were now lazily floating through the soapy water. Both of them knelt in front of it, Ani laid his chin atop his hands, idly studying the bobbing watercraft.

"The Force," said Obi Wan, drawing a hand gently through the water, "is like this."

"Like the water?" Ani asked, glancing curiously at him as the boats swirled in the current that his hand had just created.

"Mmm-hmm. It is also _in_ the water. And the boats. They are part of it. You can use the Force to move the boats the same way that you used the water to move them a moment ago," explained Obi Wan. He waited until the motion of the toys had settled and reached out through the Force, casually arranging them in readiness for another race.

Ani looked on, and Obi Wan could sense him not only watching but stretching out, following his actions through the Force. Obi Wan shifted his gaze to take in the boy and smiled approvingly. "Now you launch them," he instructed.

Ani nodded and closed his eyes, wetting his lips with his tongue as he concentrated. Obi Wan felt him moving deeper into the current around them, exploring it, feeling for the boats and the warmth of the water. He didn't speak for some time, allowing the boy the freedom to simply touch the Force, to discover his own connection with it, that he and his toy speeder boats and the water in which they were floating were, in fact, all parts of the same limitless flow of energy.

"Good. _Feel_ the Force around you," he encouraged softly. "Let it flow through you, Ani. Feel the water?"

"Mmm-hmm," the boy nodded, still keeping his eyes closed.

"Good," said Obi Wan again. "Now, give it a push. Just like moving your hand through before."

It was several long moments before a little swell rose behind the waiting boats then broke again, propelling them across the water's surface to the other end of the tub. Ani opened his eyes to watch them and grinned delightedly. Obi Wan slipped an arm around him, letting his hand come lightly to rest on the boy's shoulder.

"Very good," he said again.

They ran speeder boat races until the water had turned icy, then ran a few more for good measure. Finally, though, Obi Wan reluctantly helped him put the boats away and drained the bath. Then, Ani followed him out to the living room and climbed up on the couch beside him. He squirmed closer and settled his head on Obi Wan's chest, his gaze drifting thoughtfully toward his parents' bedroom door.

"Dad?"

"Mmm?"

"Maybe Uncle Anakin wouldn't worry about Mom so much if he knew about the twins?" his voice rose at the end, turning it into a question, and he tilted his face uncertainly up at his father.

"I don't think so, Ani," Obi Wan shook his head sadly.

"He'd be scareder then?" Ani asked, though his father could tell that the answer to the question already rested heavily on the boy's heart.

"I'm afraid he would," nodded Obi Wan.

"Scared she'll die?" his voice was tiny and strained, and Obi Wan closed his eyes at the sound of it.

"Yes, son," he said softly.

"She won't," Ani told him, his tone shifting to something harder--a certainty which alarmed rather than reassured Obi Wan.

"Ani, we must both accept the possibility that your mother may die," he said, fighting to keep his voice even as he spoke the words. "To do less is…"

"The Dark Side," Ani cut him off. "I know."

Obi Wan frowned. "How do you know?"

"Master Yoda," said Ani quietly.

Closing his eyes again, Obi Wan let out a slow, heavy sigh. "There are so many things on your mind that a little boy should never have to worry about. I'm sorry for that, Anakin."

"She'll be okay, Dad," Ani replied. His eyes had drifted back to the bedroom where Padme lay sleeping, and he held his gaze there, but his arm wound its way around his father's torso. "So will you. Long as we all stay together."

"You sound like your mother," Obi Wan forced a laugh to cover the onset of tears.

"You told it to her first," Ani shrugged.

"I did?" Obi Wan frowned.

"She tells me all the time. In the Lake Country before I was born, you said it. Before Uncle Bail came to say they wanted you to be in the army, remember?"

"Yes," Obi Wan replied faintly.

_My feelings tell me that no matter what happens tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or five years from now, you and I will be together. And as long as we are together, we have nothing to fear…_


	39. Awakening

Padme woke as Obi Wan entered the room. He murmured a quiet apology and didn't turn on the lights. She closed her eyes again, sleepily listening to the rustle of his clothing as he undressed. A few minutes later, he slid under the covers on the other side of the bed and curled his arms around her, gently pulling her back against his chest. A smile curved her lips as his cheek settled against her shoulder, but she sensed his restlessness almost immediately.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"He was asking me about telling Anakin," explained Obi Wan.

"We're going to have to tell him eventually," she sighed.

"I know. Just--not right now," he said.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I don't _like_ keeping it from him, Padme," Obi Wan replied. "We don't have secrets from each other. But he is so often unstable already. The war is a great strain on him--"

"On everyone," she pointed out.

"Yes, but more so on Anakin. There is too much at stake. His fear for you could push him…too far," he finished.

She knew, though, that it wasn't what he had been about to say. She closed our eyes again and sighed. "I was dreaming about Tatooine."

"A nightmare?" he tensed against her back.

"No, it was a good dream," she shook her head. "All of us there together. Ani was telling the twins about the day that you and Anakin took him to meet Dexter Jettster. You and Owen were at the table arguing about 'vaporators."

"'Vaporators!" he laughed. "Well, that would never happen."

"Why not?" she smiled.

"I hardly know the first thing about moisture farming. I wouldn't dare tell your friend Owen his own trade," he said.

"You knew enough in the dream," she replied. "I think we stayed there or something. Or maybe we went back after the Battle of Naboo."

"You gave up being Queen?" his voice rose slightly in surprise.

"Why shouldn't I? You gave up being a Jedi for me," she reminded him.

"My darling," his lips softly brushed her shoulder. "I would give up anything for you. Even my own life."

"Don't say such things," she chided around a sudden ache in her throat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," he apologized.

Padme shook her head. "I guess I'm just being overly emotional, Obi Wan. _I'm_ sorry."

"Well. You do have an excuse to be emotional," he chuckled. "What else happened in the dream?"

"Anakin and Qui-Gon came for dinner," she explained.

"Qui-Gon was alive?" he asked.

"He was Anakin's Master. They landed in these odd fighters. They weren't Jedi Starfighters…something else, but I can't remember. Luke and Leia ran out to meet them, and Anakin picked them up and swung them around in his arms and told them to go wake up Artoo, the same way I used to do with Pooja and Ryoo. Then you and Ani both bowed to Qui-Gon, and everybody went inside for dinner. You'll never guess what we had," she laughed.

Her laughter was infectious. "Fried nerfsteak and pickled Garto eggs."

"The Skywalker Special," she nodded.

His arms tightened around her, and Padme felt him begin to shake with laughter. He pressed his face into her shoulder, trying to stifle his amusement, but it was no use. Her owm composure melted as he gave in, and she surrendered to a fit of giggles. It was several minutes before either could speak again, and when they did, Padme's voice had turned quiet, wistful.

"Do you think we could go there when the war is over?" she asked.

"You want me to be a moisture farmer?" he teased.

"No, of course not. But I did promise Beru that I would visit. And I'm sure she'd like to know that the comlink story had a happy ending," she said.

"When the war is over, we'll do whatever you like. Go wherever you want," he promised.

"All I want is for us to be together," she murmured, closing her eyes again.

"Always," he promised.

-----

The sound of the door chime woke both Padme and Obi Wan late that night. She fumbled with the covers, struggling to sit up, but felt his hand slip onto her shoulder. He kissed her neck gently, his voice still thick with sleep as he murmured into her skin, "Stay here, I'll see who it is."

She settled back against the pillows, shivering and pulling the blankets closer as the warmth of his body withdrew. Obi Wan quickly dressed and strode out of the bedroom. He found the overhead lights already on and raised his right hand to his face, squinting in the sudden, harsh glare. Once his eyes began to adjust, he saw that Threepio was already leading Bail Organa to the couch.

"I'm sorry to wake you," the Senator said, scrubbing his own face tiredly and stifling a yawn.

"It's all right," Obi Wan shook his head automatically.

He moved toward the couch as well, and by the time he reached it, Padme had appeared in their bedroom doorway. Pulling her robe around her shoulders, she rubbed her eyes sleepily and made her way over to them. Threepio was still hovering nearby, and she turned to the droid as she lowered herself onto the couch beside Obi Wan.

"Threepio, bring some caf for our guest," she said softly.

"Oh, right away, mistress," said the droid, tottering his way into the kitchen.

"I would have come earlier," Bail apologized again. "I had to make sure I wasn't being watched."

"Watched?" repeated Padme.

"By whom?" Obi Wan wanted to know.

In response, Bail leaned forward, pulling a holocube from his pocket. He slid it into the recessed projector slot in the table and sat back again, templing his fingers. He waited silently as the Kenobis read through the report. They did so, frowning, and by the time they both finished, Obi Wan's hand had moved onto his wife's shoulder. Padme was pale, her face pinched and drawn with worry. The former Jedi's expression was grim.

"Thank you, Bail," he said quietly.

"The Jedi still have friends in the Senate," Bail's lips quirked slightly.

"For now," Padme murmured. They all knew that, even among those Senators who opposed Palaptine's policies and were supportive of their efforts to induce him to surrender his executive powers, many now distrusted the Jedi Order.

"Do you think the amendment will pass?" Obi Wan asked her.

She closed her eyes. Her answer was a silent nod, and her hand moved to cover his, gently squeezing his fingers.

He ran his free hand over his face. "Then I had better go to the temple now. Speak with Masters Windu and Yoda."

"I'll walk out with you," offered Bail, retrieving the holocube. "I have a few more stops to make tonight."

"We should rally everyone we can before the proposal is made," Padme told her colleague.

He nodded. "Tomorrow."

"Here," she agreed. "It's safer than the offices."

Bail gave another nod, and Obi Wan leaned forward, his right hand moving to touch his wife's jaw. He turned her face toward his and gently kissed her. "I love you."

"I love you," she smiled.

The two men left the apartment, and neither spoke as they turned up the hall toward the turbolift. Bail seemed lost in his thoughts, one hand pressed pensively over his mouth. Obi Wan's own mind was already focusing on the discussion ahead of him, weighing possible reactions, testing the Force in search of direction. Bail paused just before they reached the lift, and his hand came down on the general's shoulder in a silent request for him to wait. Obi Wan turned.

"Have you given any thought to what you'll do when the war is over?" Bail asked.

Obi Wan's eyebrow rose at the question. "Padme and I intend to go back to Naboo. We're both going to retire from public life. Raise our family."

"There are those of us, including your wife, who fear that when the war is over, we'll have another fight on our hands," Bail reminded him.

"But that fight is going to take place on the Senate floor. I promise you, Padme has no intention of leaving until it's over," said Obi Wan.

"It may start on the Senate floor," allowed Bail. "But I begin to suspect that it won't stay there. Others do as well. There is a place for you and your family on Alderaan, Obi Wan. If you want it."

"What are you asking me, Bail?" Obi Wan's eyes widened as he regarded his friend.

"I don't believe in armed resistance. I never have. I'm not a Separatist, Obi Wan. You know that. But things are…changing. Times are changing. We all may have to change with them, or the Republic may be lost," Bail said.

"Lost!" Obi Wan repeated in disbelief.

"You haven't been here," Bail reminded him calmly. "The Chancellor carves away chunks of our freedom and bandages them with little scraps of security. Coruscant itself exists under what is practically martial law. In many ways, Palpatine already rules the galaxy."

"It's that bad?" Obi Wan asked, still only half willing to believe it. "Why hasn't Padme told me?"

"She doesn't want to burden you," said Bail. "Besides, dealing with the greedy, grasping fools in the Senate and Chancellor Palpatine's incessant maneuvering for power is _her_ way of safeguarding the Republic. Fighting the Separatists is yours. But it may not be that way much longer. Both of you may have to keep fighting--fighting Palpatine."

Obi Wan closed his eyes. "If and when it comes to that…I will do everything I can to help. But there is something I must ask you to do for me."

"Of course," agreed the Senator.

"This amendment will give Palpatine control of the Jedi Council itself. If that happens, the Jedi Order will be subject to the Chancellor's direct authority. We suspect that the Sith Lord we have been looking for may in fact be part of Palpatine's staff. Controlling him. The Jedi are my family's only protection should I be discovered acting in military opposition to him," said Obi Wan.

Bail reached forward, gripping the general's arm tightly. "Padme and the children will be safe on Alderaan. I promise you that."

------

Obi Wan sat silently between the two Jedi Masters, once again in Yoda's quarters. The sense of peace and security that he had felt here earlier today was gone now. Now the room was full of tension and worry. Bail had entrusted him with the holocube before their parted, and the blue holoprojected report now floated between them. The air crackled with charged silence as they absorbed its implications.

"The Chancellor's goal in this--unclear to me it is. Though nominally in command of the Council, the Senate may place him, the Jedi he cannot control. Moral, our authority has always been; much more than merely legal. Simply follow orders, Jedi do not!" declared Yoda.

"I don't think he intends to control the Jedi," Mace said. "By placing the Jedi Council under the control of the Office of the Supreme Chancellor, this amendment will give him the constitutional authority to disband the Order itself."

"Surely you cannot believe this is his intention, Master," Obi Wan murmured.

"His intention?" Mace said darkly. "Perhaps not. But _his_ intentions are irrelevant; all that matters now is the intent of the Sith Lord who has our government in his grip. And the Jedi Order may be all that stands between him and galactic domination. What do you think he will do?"

"Authority to disband the Jedi, the Senate would never grant," Yoda shook his head.

"The Senate will vote to grant exactly that. With this amendment," Mace replied.

"The implications of this, they must not comprehend!" protested Yoda.

"It no longer matters what they comprehend. They know where the power is," said Mace.

"But even disbanded, even without legal authority, still Jedi we would be. Jedi Knights served the Force long before there was a Galactic Republic, and serve it we will when this Republic is but dust," Yoda reminded him.

"Master Yoda, that day may be coming sooner than any of us think. That day may be today," Mace warned, looking toward Obi Wan in a tacit plea for support.

"We don't know what the Sith Lord's plans may be," Obi Wan began, "but we can be certain that Palpatine is not to be trusted. This draft resolution is not the product of some overzealous senator; we may be sure Palpatine wrote it himself and passed it along to someone he controls--to make it look like the Senate is once more 'forcing him to reluctantly accept extra powers in the name of security'. Senator Organa and I are afraid that they will continue to do so until one day he's 'forced to reluctantly accept' dictatorship for _life!_"

"I am convinced this is the next step in a plot aimed directly at the heart of the Jedi," Mace added. "This is a move toward our destruction. The Dark Side of the Force surrounds the Chancellor."

"As it has surrounded and cloaked the Separatists since even before the war began. If the Chancellor is being influenced through the Dark Side, this whole war may have been, from the beginning, a plot by the Sith to destroy the Jedi Order," Obi Wan continued the thought.

"Speculation!" interrupted Yoda, pounding the floor with his gimer stick for emphasis. "On theories such as these we cannot rely. _Proof_ we need. Proof!"

"Proof may be a luxury we cannot afford. We must be ready to act!" Windu declared, and Obi Wan saw a dangerous gleam in the Jedi's eye as he finished the statement.

"Act?" he asked mildly. Despite the conversation that he had just had with Bail, he was not convinced that such drastic measures were needed--not yet. He hoped, in fact, that they would not be at all.

"He cannot be allowed to move against the Order. He cannot be allowed to prolong the war needlessly. Too many Jedi have died already. He is dismantling the Republic itself! I have seen life outside the Republic; so have you, Obi Wan. Slavery. Torture. Endless war." Mace's face took on a haunted shadow. "I have seen it in Nar Shaddaa, and I saw it on Haruun Kal. I saw what it did to Depa, and to Sora Bulq. Whatever its flaws, the Republic is our sole hope for justice, and for peace. It is our only defense against the Dark. Palpatine may be about to do what the Separatists cannot: bring down the Republic. If he tries, he must be removed from office."

"Removed?" Obi Wan said, hoping he could bring a touch of clarity to the discussion, remind his weary friend exactly what it was they were discussing. "You mean, _arrested?_"

Yoda shook his head. "To a dark place, this line of thought will lead us. Great care, we must take."

"The Republic is civilization. It's the only one we have," Mace argued, and the two powerful Jedi locked gazes. "We must be prepared for radical action. It is our duty."

"Master Windu. Mace," Obi Wan said slowly. "You're talking about treason. We must tread carefully."

"I'm not afraid of words, Obi Wan! If it's treason, then so be it. I would do this right now, if I had the Council's support. The real treason would be failure to act!" Mace insisted.

"Such an act, destroy the Jedi Order it could," Yoda said. "Lost the trust of the public, we have already--"

"No disrespect, Master Yoda, but that's a politician's argument. We can't let public opinion stop us from doing what's right," interrupted Mace.

"_Convinced_ it is right, I am _not,_" Yoda replied severely. "Working behind the scenes we should be, to uncover Lord Sidious! To move against Palpatine while the Sith still exist--this may be part of the Sith plan itself, to turn the Senate and the public against the Jedi! So that we are not only disbanded, but _outlawed._"

Mace was half out of his seat. "To wait gives the Sith the advantage--"

"Have the advantage already, they do!" Yoda declared, jabbing the gimer stick toward the younger Master. "Increase their advantage we will, if in haste we act!"

"Masters, Masters, please," Obi Wan called. He looked from one to the other and inclined his head respectfully. "Perhaps there is a middle way."

"Ah, of course: Kenobi the Negotiator," Mace Windu collapsed against the back of his chair with a rueful smile. "I should have guessed. That is why you asked for this meeting, isn't it? To mediate our differences. If you can."

"So sure of your skills you are?" Yoda folded his fists around the head of his stick. "Easy to negotiate, this matter is not!"

Obi Wan kept his head down. "It seems to me that Palpatine himself has given us an opening. He has said--both to you, Master Windu, and in the Holonet address he gave following his rescue--that General Grievous is the true obstacle to peace. Let us forget about the rest of the Separatist leadership, for now. Let Nute Gunray and San Hill and the rest run wherever they like, while we put every available Jedi and all of our agents--the whole of Republic Intelligence, if we can--to work on locating Grievous himself. This will force the hand of the Sith Lord; he will know that Grievous cannot elude our full efforts for long, once we devote ourselves exclusively to his capture. It will draw Sidious out; he will have to make some sort of move, if he wishes the war to continue."

"If?" Mace repeated. "The war has been a Sith operation from the beginning, with Dooku on one side and Sidious on the other--it has always been a plot aimed at the Jedi. To bleed us dry of our youngest and best. To make us into something we were never intended to be. I had the truth in my hands years ago--back on Haruun Kal, in the first months of the war. I had it, but I did not understand how right I was."

"Seen glimpses of this truth, we all have," Yoda said sadly. "Our arrogance it is, which has stopped us from fully opening our eyes."

"Until now," Obi Wan corrected gently. "We understand now the goal of the Sith Lord, we know his tactics, and we know where to look for him. His actions will reveal him. He cannot escape us. He will not escape us."

Yoda and Mace frowned at each other for another moment, then both of them turned to Obi Wan and inclined their heads.

"Seen to the heart of the matter, young Kenobi has," Yoda decided.

Mace nodded. "Yoda and I will remain on Coruscant, monitoring Palpatine's advisers and lackeys; we'll move against Sidious the instant he is revealed. But who will capture Grievous? I have fought him blade-to-blade. He is more than a match for most Jedi."

"We'll worry about that once we find him," Obi Wan said, and a smile touched his lips as, for the first time he actually became aware of his former teacher's presence in the room. "If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear Qui-Gon reminding me that _until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction._"


	40. Descent

Padme's eyes drifted out toward the balcony where her son was playing with Artoo Detoo and See Threepio. In the distance, she could make out the spires of the Jedi temple, and her chest tightened. Obi Wan had not returned that morning, and shortly after the small cadre of senators left her apartment, they were delivered another blow. The Sector Governace Decree allowed Palpatine the right to appoint governors over every planet in the Republic. His current executive powers--voted upon and approved by the Galactic Senate--afforded him the authority pass the legislation without the Senate's consent.

The group had gathered in her apartment again to await the results of the vote on the Jedi Council, but conversation had now turned to the morning's decree. It seemed that the two pieces of legislature were linked. This decree, combined with the amendment upon which they had just voted would place Palpatine in absolute control of the galaxy. The Jedi would have no legal authority with which to stop him. They should have seen this coming. _How_ had they not seen? _Where_ was Obi Wan?

"The next step will be to dismantle the Senate altogether," she said hollowly. She hardly dared to believe that the voice she heard was her own, that the words were hers. She had known Palpatine for years. He had been her most trusted advisor. How could she have been so wrong about him?

"Why should he bother?" Mon Mothma pointed out. "As a practical matter--as of this morning--the Senate no longer exists."

Padme brought her gaze back to the gathering in her living room. She looked from one colleague to another, gauging their reactions. Giddean Danu nodded in agreement. Terr Taneel kept her eyes down, focused on adjusting her robes. Fang Zar ran a hand over his unruly gray-streaked topknot.

Bail leaned forward, commanding attention with that simple movement. Folding his hands in front of him, he said, "Palpatine no longer has to worry about controlling the Senate. By placing his own lackeys as governors over every planet in the Republic, he controls our systems _directly_. He's become a dictator. We made him a dictator."

"But what can we do about it?" Terr Taneel asked, still worrying over her robes, but Padme could see the frown of concern etched on her features.

"That's what we asked you here to discuss," Mon Mothma replied. "What we're going to do about it."

Fang Zar shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure I like where this is going."

"None of us likes where anything is going," Bail said, half rising from his seat. "That's exactly the point. We can't let a thousand years of democracy disappear without a fight!"

"A _fight_?" Padme repeated, eyes widening at her friend's tone. "I can't believe what I'm hearing! Bail, you sound like a Separatist!"

"I--" Bail sank back on the couch and glanced significantly toward Mon Mothma. "I apologize. That was not my intent. What I mean to say is, of all the Senators in the galaxy, you four have been the most consistent--and _influential_--voices of reason and restraint, doing all you could to preserve our poor, tattered Constitution. No one here wants to hurt the Republic. With your help, we hope to save it."

"It has become increasingly clear," Mon Mothma added, "that Palpatine has become an enemy of democracy. He must be stopped."

"The Senate gave him these powers," Padme reminded her firmly. "The Senate can rein him in."

"I fear you underestimate just how deeply the Senate's corruption has taken hold. Who will vote against Palpatine now?" Giddean Danu asked.

"I will," Padme said flatly. "And I'll find others, too."

"You do that," Bail said. "Make as much noise as you can--keep Palpatine watching what you're doing in the Senate. That should provide some cover while Mon Mothma and I begin building our organization--"

"Stop," Padme cut him off, rising from her seat. There was still the Sith Lord to consider. Obi Wan and the Jedi believed that he was somewhere within Palpatine's inner circle. If she were to make herself a public enemy of Palpatine, she would become the enemy of the Sith as well. Most of those in the room were not aware of the Jedi Order's ongoing investigation into the identity of the Sith Lord, but Padme knew that her husband had talked with Bail about it to some extent. She walked toward the balcony, smiling sadly at Ani. Her hand moved to cover her abdomen. "It's better to leave some things unsaid. Right now, it's better I don't know anything about…anything."

"Very well. Other matters can be left for other times. Until then, this meeting must remain absolutely secret. Even hinting at an effective opposition to Palpatine can be as we've all seen, very dangerous. We must agree never to speak of these matters except among the people who are now in this room. We must bring no one into this secret without the agreement of each and every one of us," Bail said.

"That includes even those closest to you," Mon Mothma added. "Even your families--to share anything of this will expose them to the same danger we all face. No one can be told. No one."

"I have no secrets from Obi Wan," Padme said without hesitation.

There was a moment of tense silence. Padme kept her eyes on the temple spires. He was still there--somewhere. What were they doing? Inexplicably, she thought again of the dream she had had the night before, and Beru Whitesun's words whispered in her mind. _Tatooine breeds love as much as hardship._

"You'll have to keep this one," Mon Mothma's tone was firm. "We have no way to be certain where his loyalties lie now."

Padme spun. "_I _know where his loyalties are!"

Mothma shook her head. "I'm sorry, Padme. Your husband has never stopped being a Jedi. Not _really._ And Palpatine is now in control of the Jedi Order."

"He is also in control of the Senate. By that argument, all of our loyalties should be suspect because _we_ have never stopped being Senators," Padme pointed out.

"The Senate serves the Republic. The Jedi Order claims to serve the Force. They keep their own counsel. Who is to say which side they will be on?" Mothma persisted.

"Obi Wan's loyalty is to his wife and--son," Padme quickly altered the end of her statement.

"Mon," Bail reached out, covering Mothma's hand with his own. "I will vouch for Obi Wan. We've been friends for a long time. I have never doubted his commitment to the ideals of the Republic."

-----

Obi Wan waited at the temple with Master Windu until the results of the vote were announced. He agreed to lead the investigation into Grievous' whereabouts, and then they focused their attention on a contingency plan in the event that Palpatine did in fact attempt to dissolve the Jedi Order before the Separatist general could be dealt with. He was on his way home when he heard a group of Padawans discussing the arrival of Palpatine's shuttle. Pausing to listen, he discovered that, although they weren't sure how long it had been waiting on the rooftop landing deck, it had come for Anakin. He immediately turned and made his way up to the roof, where the afternoon sun was beginning to sink lower.

Anakin arrived a few minutes later, and he stopped short at the sight of his former Master. They stepped awkwardly up to one another and ducked their heads, both unsure of where to begin. The previous night's argument still hung between them, and now Obi Wan had another secret that he must keep from his friend and partner. It was Anakin who spoke first.

"Obi Wan. I didn't know you were here," he began.

"I was speaking with Yoda again," explained Obi Wan.

Anakin's face paled and he looked stricken. "About what? Is--something wrong?"

"No, no," he waved his hand dismissively. "Everything's fine. Listen, Anakin, I'm sorry for last night. I know you were just trying to help."

Anakin closed his eyes. He took a breath and seemed on the verge of saying something, then abruptly turned to look at the waiting shuttle. "What's going on here? If the Chancellor wanted me, why didn't he go through the Council?"

"I don't know. Perhaps he has some reason to believe that the Council might have resisted sending you. Perhaps he did not wish to reveal his reason for this summons. Relations between the Council and the Chancellor are… stressed. I was on my way home when I heard the last shift's deck-duty Padawans talking downstairs. The shuttle simply arrived, and when questioned, the pilot told them that his instructions were to bring you to Palpatine. That's when I came out here. There's--something we need to talk about, Anakin. Privately. If the Council were to find out about this conversation... well, let's say, I'd rather they didn't."

"What conversation? I still don't know what's going on," Anakin said, his confusion beginning to move toward alarm.

Obi Wan could tell that something else was bothering him and put a calming hand on the Knight's shoulder. "None of us does. Not really. Anakin, listen. Whatever our differences, you know I am your friend."

"Of course you are--"

"No," Obi Wan quickly cut him off. "No of _courses_, Anakin. Nothing is certain anymore. I want you to know that am your friend, and as your friend, I am asking you: be wary of Palpatine."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you are _his_ friend. I am concerned that he may not be yours. Be careful of him, Anakin. And be careful of your own feelings," Obi Wan pleaded.

"Careful? Don't you mean, _mindful_?" Anakin asked. It was a small distinction--a Jedi's distinction. It was one that Obi Wan had taught this young man, years ago.

"No," he said quietly. "I don't. The Force grows ever darker around us, and we are all affected by it, even as we affect it. This is a dangerous time to be a Jedi. Please, Anakin--please be careful."

"You worry too much," Anakin assured him, but his laugh was nervous, and it didn't reach his eyes.

"I have to--" began Obi Wan.

"Because I don't worry at all, right?" Anakin finished the thought..

"How did you know I was going to say that?" Obi Wan asked, a hint of a smile touching his lips.

Anakin didn't answer. His gaze drifted toward the waiting shuttle and then beyond it. Obi Wan rubbed his eyes wearily with his fingers, not needing to guess where his friend's mind was. In the distance, they could see the tower of 500 Republica, and Anakin's eyes settled there.

"I worry plenty," he said in a strained tone.

"Anakin--"

"No," the Knight interrupted again, suddenly shaking his head. "Obi Wan, there's something I need to tell you, too. I--didn't want to--because I thought you might believe that I was trying to come between you and Padme, and I'm _not._"

"Tell me what, Anakin?" Obi Wan frowned.

"I've--been having nightmares. _Not_ just dreams. These are--like the ones I used to have about my mother," said Anakin.

"Padme?" Obi Wan asked, fighting to keep his expression neutral.

Anakin stared at the ground in front of them. "She dies."

Obi Wan closed his eyes.

"She dies in childbirth," Anakin said urgently. "_You're_ the ones who have to be careful. You have to make sure. That's why I was concerned last night. You have to make _sure, _Obi Wan!"

"It's--too late," he replied in a hoarse whisper, for once letting the grief break through, letting his carefully maintained façade fall away. He didn't open his eyes, but he knew when Anakin's head had snapped up again. He could feel the palpable wave of anger surge outward from his friend.

"What do you mean, too late!" Anakin cried.

"Padme is five months pregnant," Obi Wan forced the word up out of his chest and past his lips.

Anakin's hands grasped his shoulders, clamping down fiercely, forcing his eyes open. The face he found staring back at him was wild, desperate, consumed with fear and torment. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything, Anakin," Obi Wan said dully.

"_You have to!" _Anakin bellowed. "_You're her husband!"_

"Yes," Obi Wan let his voice crack between them as he reached to place his own hands on Anakin's shoulders and force him back. "I am."

Anakin stared at him in disbelief and took a step back toward the shuttle. "I don't believe this. I _won't_ believe it! You can't mean what you're saying!"

"I mean it, Anakin. This pregnancy is the will of the Force. There is nothing I can do," Obi Wan pushed past him, heading toward the turbolift as tears began to stream down his face.

"Then I was wrong about you! You must really not be a Jedi anymore if you won't do anything to save your own _wife!" _Anakin shouted after him.

Obi Wan didn't reply.


	41. Cry On My Shoulder

The chapter is _not_ a songfic, but inspired partially by the Overflow song of the same name, which has sort of become the One Path anthem. It was the song to which I wrote most of Chapter 7, including the dance scene.

-----

"See, Mom, now the Force decides who wins. It's better this way," Ani said. He turned his head to be sure that Padme was still carefully watching, and then returned his attention to the boats in the tub. In his moment of inattention, one of them had drifted off course, but his hand jerked up, his wrist moving in a quick backward motion to avert a crash with the one beside it. Padme smiled.

She had to admit that she was glad Obi Wan had changed his mind about teaching their son the ways of the Force. She knew that there was far more involved than simple parlor tricks, that the philosophy of the Jedi Order was still a prominent part of who her husband was. It was part of Ani's heritage and something that his father _should_ be the one to teach him. Obi Wan had found a way to honor his commitment to serving the Force without sacrificing his love for her or for their family. Padme had nothing but respect for Master Yoda, but Obi Wan was the only one who _could_ mentor their son without insisting that he forego his ties to his family--to her.

_No little boy should be forced to leave his mother,_ she thought sadly. She had often wondered how different Anakin _Skywalker_ might have been if circumstances had allowed Shmi to come with them to Coruscant, or at least if his decision to become a Jedi had not also meant a decision to sever ties with her.

There had been a HoloNews report earlier that evening stating that Anakin had been appointed to the Jedi Council as Palpatine's representative. She hoped that this would do something to ease the young man's growing discontent. She knew that a seat on the Council was one of his highest ambitions. He felt that the Jedi were purposely holding him back, refusing to allow him the rank of Master, although he had never been specific about what reason they might have had to do so. Obi Wan had told her that the Council, even Master Windu, felt that Anakin was still too unstable, that he did not have the maturity and respect for authority necessary to be given Mastery. She had agreed until they returned home a few days ago. Now, she wasn't sure.

Anakin's behavior had been different. He had lost the air of cocky superiority that she remembered. He had been humble to the point of embarrassment about his role in Count Dooku's death, more than willing to share credit with Obi Wan despite the fact that his former teacher had been unconscious when Dooku was killed. He declared the entire mission to be Obi Wan's idea, insisted that the Chancellor would not be alive if not for Obi Wan's skill and cleverness. With little Ani, he was warm and caring, playful in a way that most Jedi would have found inappropriate, but although the two of them took delight in teasing Obi Wan, he would never have encouraged the boy to think disrespectfully of his father.

Yet he had stormed out of the apartment last night, and now _something_ was going on. Obi Wan had not returned home, and there had been no word from either of them. Despite their disagreement the night before, she had hoped that Anakin's appointment to the Council would have given them the motivation to reconcile. Ani had asked her to hold off serving dinner, fully expecting that his father and uncle would _both_ soon arrive hungry and eager to celebrate Anakin's good fortune. Her son often seemed to know things he shouldn't, and Padme had desperately wanted him to be right. Anakin didn't come, though. Obi Wan didn't either, which left her with a growing knot in the pit of her stomach. Finally, she had to accept that Ani's statement had not been a Jedi presentiment at all, only the steadfast and resilient faith that a child had in the two men he loved most.

She hadn't wanted to disappoint him, but finally, she'd _had_ to serve the meal. He'd eaten silently, despite her attempts to draw him out. The food was flat and unappealing to Padme as well, and she was glad when the ordeal of eating was over. As they cleared the dishes, Ani had told her plaintively that he wanted to go home, and she had consoled him with the promise of boat races after his bath. Of course, he had wanted to show her the way that _Dad_ had taught him to race, and here they stood.

_Home,_ thought Padme now with a sudden pang of longing for the shelter of her parents' house. The war always seemed so far away there. She thought of her mother's famous dinners, where there was always enough food to feed a nation; of her father wrestling around on the floor with his grandchildren; of Sola and Darred's quiet contentment. She knew what those things meant to her. She could only _imagine_ what they must mean to Ani, who woke every day to the reality that both of his parents could die. Her family was the only security that he had ever known.

_Where_ was Obi Wan? she asked herself again.

"Coming," Ani said softly.

"What?" Padme blinked.

"Dad's coming," he explained.

Padme bit her lip. "Is…he all right?"

"Dunno," Ani replied, looking up from his toys. He turned to her again, his brow puckering in concentration. "Just know he's coming."

-----

Obi Wan found his wife and son in the 'fresher racing speeder boats. At least, Ani was racing. Padme leaned on the wall beside the door, watching the spectacle. She stretched out her hand to her husband, and he clasped her fingers. Then he slowly raised her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers, and pressed her palm to his cheek.

"Where have you been? Is everything all right?" she murmured.

"Mmm. I stayed at the temple until the amendment was ratified. Master Yoda and Master Windu decided that I should lead the investigation into Grievous' whereabouts--" he began.

"Told you! You and Uncle Anakin are going to find him together!" Ani exclaimed triumphantly.

Obi Wan drew in a breath. "I… think Uncle Anakin will be occupied with his duties on the Council, son."

Ani spun to give him a stricken look, leaving the speeder boats to an unceremonious mid-race collision. "They're splitting up the _team_?"

"This is our best chance to end the war, Ani. Everyone must be willing to do his duty. It doesn't mean that Uncle Anakin and I are--not friends," his father said carefully.

"But…!" Ani trailed off, determined that some further objection must be raised and yet unsure how to counter Obi Wan's statement.

The general lifted the index finger of his free hand toward the abandoned race. "Be mindful of your boats."

Startled, Ani turned back to the tub. He occupied himself with sorting them out, and Obi Wan withdrew. With the same aimless manner in which he had spent much of the afternoon and early evening wandering the Lower Streets and watching Coruscanti locals going about their daily lives, he drifted into the living room. Images of the last two nights--his family gathered here--began to flash through his mind. He let them go as quickly as they surfaced, but he couldn't bring himself to sit in here. The room was still too full of them. He made his way out to the balcony, where he found Artoo and Threepio. The astromech's head swiveled as he approached, and the droid gave him an inquiring tootle. The protocol droid straightened in the act of gathering an armload of Ani's toys and jerked around to face him. His arms flew upward, sending the toys he'd already picked up crashing back to the ground, but he didn't appear to notice.

"Oh! Master Obi Wan, thank goodness you've arrived, sir! Mistress Padme has been so worried!" he exclaimed.

"Threepio," Padme spoke up behind them. "Go inside, please. Help Ani put his things away in the 'fresher and see that he gets to bed. I'll be in to say good night shortly."

"Of course, Mistress," he said, hurriedly moving back into the apartment.

"You too, Artoo," directed Padme.

The little droid gave a low whistle of concern but trundled off as well. When they were both gone, Obi Wan wended his way through the forgotten toys and rested his elbows on the balcony rail. He propped his chin in his hands, focusing his attention on the brightly lit skyline.

"I remember the last time I found you on a balcony like this," she said as she came up beside him. Her hand slid onto his shoulder, moving in a soft, half-conscious comforting rhythm. "You were sad. Afraid. Do you remember?"

"I can't imagine being that young again," he whispered.

"You knew you could tell me anything then," she reminded him.

He turned toward her in surprise. "I'm all right."

"Where else did you go?" she asked. "It's been hours since the announcement was made."

"Just walking for a while. I ended up at Cantham house," he explained.

Padme closed her eyes. She didn't need to ask how or why her husband had ended up at Bail Organa's Coruscanti residence. His feelings were enough to tell her that it had had nothing to do with the organization that Bail and Mon Mothma were building.

"Obi Wan, please don't shut me out," she said softly.

"Breha lost the baby," he told her bleakly.

Her eyes widened. "When?"

"A few weeks ago. Bail hasn't told anyone yet. They're keeping her sequestered on Alderaan," he explained. Breha Organa had been pregnant at the same time that Padme had carried little Ani. She had lost that child, and both couples had found comfort in the fact that the two women were again pregnant at the same time. Despite the risks involved to both mothers, it had seemed to be a positive omen, and it had been helpful for all of them to have friends with whom they could share their fears and their hopes.

Padme swallowed. "How is she taking it?"

"Bail said she's…depressed," Obi Wan replied.

"I've been so worried about you," Padme bit her lip. "I hadn't even thought to wonder why she didn't return my last message."

"She's not ready to talk to anyone. He isn't sure when they plan on making a public announcement. It will depend on her emotional state," Obi Wan said.

"And Bail?"

"As well as he can be under the circumstances," sighed Obi Wan.

Padme nodded, then let her hand drift off his shoulder and replaced it with her head. His arm automatically wound around her shoulders and they stood silently looking out on the city. "Something else is bothering you," she said after a few minutes.

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"I told Mon Mothma today that we didn't keep secrets from each other," she said.

"So I heard," he replied with a faint smile.

"Anakin?" she asked.

He gave a reluctant nod. "Padme…thank you for…not doubting me."

"Why would I doubt you?" she smiled.

"I don't know. I--Anakin--" he broke off, sighing, and closed his eyes.

"You've _always_ been there for me, Obi Wan," she murmured, lifting her head from his shoulder. Turning him gently to face her, she clasped his hands.

"That will never change," he nodded, still not opening his eyes. Warm tears began to slip down his cheeks, and he didn't bother to hide them. Padme's hands moved to the sides of his face, then she silently drew his head onto her shoulder.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered against her neck.

"I know," she assured him, her fingers moving softly, soothingly through his hair.

"Padme, I'd give anything," he told her.

"I know you would. Just be there, Obi Wan. That's all I need," she said, turning to rest her cheek against his hair.

He drew in a long, ragged breath, and said nothing, wrapping his arms around her. They stood that way, wordlessly, for a long time, feeling the warmth of each other, the familiar beating of the others' heart. Finally Padme kissed the side of his head and drew back. He slowly raised his face to look at her, and she smiled.

"Dance with me," she said.

"We don't have any music," he laughed shakily.

"We don't need it," she replied.

Obi Wan closed his eyes again. He stepped back, and with the barest motion of his hand, swept aside their son's playthings, leaving open the floor. Their dance floor. He slipped his arms around her, reverent and possessive, gentle and passionate. She was right. They needed no music except that which was the music between them, around them, the music of their love, needing no accompaniment except the myriad sparkling lights of the city . The silence was rich and living, soft and gentle as any tune. They needed nothing else--no witness or even words. More would have been an intrusion upon the moment they both needed. Here and now, the dance was enough, a silent, perfect affirmation of all they were to one another-- all they would continue to be--because what was between them could not be broken even after the end of the moving embrace, even by the separation of death.


	42. Expectations

Padme slept in the warm circle of her husband's arms, her back once again nestled comfortably against his chest. It was a deep and restful slumber, blessedly free of nightmares--one of very few that she could remember having in all the months that he had been on the outer rim. She opened her eyes naturally and without effort, blinked in surprise at the sensation of being actually _rested_. She smiled. His chest still rose and fell in the deep, even rhythm of sleep, and she wondered idly what he might be dreaming about--Varyinko? Tatooine? Her hand drifted down to where his clasped forearms now rested above the swell of her pregnancy. Her palm smoothed gently over the familiar musculature, exploring it slowly and thoroughly, the way that they had touched one another in their first, blissful days of marriage, when every caress was new and full of wonder.

He stirred at the touch, and she stilled her hand, not wanting to wake him. His head turned anyway, and she gave a pleasant shiver as he buried his lips in her neck. "Good morning," he whispered.

"Good morning," she replied happily.

"What's on your agenda for today, Senator Kenobi?" he asked.

"More debate. I think my life has become one endless debate," she remarked.

"I know what you mean," he murmured.

"What about your day?" she wanted to know.

"I need to meet with Republic Intelligence to start coordinating the search for General Grievous. Then I should speak with Yoda again and let him know that I've been instructing Ani," he said.

She nodded. "Do you think he'll like it?"

He didn't answer right away, and she smiled again, well able to picture the thoughtful furrow of his brow. "Ani told him clearly that he _didn't_ want to go to the temple. He'll agree with me that with Qui-Gon already involved, the Force itself intends for Ani to be trained. I think he'll _want_ me involved in that training."

"Involved? You're going to be more than just 'involved', aren't you?" she frowned.

"Ani and Qui-Gon have already developed a relationship that seems to be that of Master and Padawan. It's rather unprecedented. At Ani's age, younglings are usually still kept in training groups, as I was. Not to mention the fact that Qui-Gon is--well--dead. I don't fully understand what limits there are on his ability to interact with Ani physically. That means that at least a part of his training will fall to me, but I don't want to interfere with Qui-Gon's instruction or come between them in any way," he explained.

"Maybe the two of you can train him together as equals," Padme suggested.

"Two Masters? Well, that's…"

"Unprecedented?" she laughed.

"That's one word," he chuckled against her skin.

"You _are_ Ani's dad," she pointed out.

"Yes, and Qui-Gon may feel that I'm therefore too close," he said.

"Haven't you always told me that Qui-Gon was like a father to you anyway?" she reminded him.

"The only father I ever knew," he admitted.

"Do you love him less than Ani loves you?" Padme asked.

"Of course not. I mean, I don't think so. I--sometimes I still can't believe that there's this little boy who loves me so much, so simply. Everything with Anakin was always so convoluted and complex," he replied pensively.

"But you don't love _him_ any less," Padme said.

"No. But differently," Obi Wan told her.

"Of course. All relationships are different, you know that. They grow and change over time. Anakin is a grown man now, and he was always very different from Ani," she observed.

"What are you getting at?" he asked.

"Just because little Ani is your son by blood doesn't mean that your relationship with Anakin is any less important to you. Or that _Anakin _is less important. And I have a feeling that _you_ are just as important to Qui-Gon now as Ani is. He loves you as a son, and yet he was able to teach you what he knew, just as you taught Anakin."

"Where have you learned such wisdom?" he asked, and though his tone was light, she knew that he wasn't entirely teasing.

"I'm a mother," she replied.

"Then perhaps motherhood should be a requirement for appointment to the Jedi Council," he suggested archly.

"That would present a bit of a problem," she giggled.

"Well, I would have said _parenthood_, but I am a father, and that doesn't seem to have afforded me the same understanding," he said.

"That's because fathers are really just little boys like their sons," she declared.

"You didn't think I was such a little boy when you married me," he pointed out.

"You weren't a father when I married you," she explained.

"So…what? A boy is born, grows into a man and marries, and then becoming a father suddenly reverts him into a little boy?" Obi Wan laughed.

"I think that's about right," Padme nodded.

"Well then, how come motherhood doesn't have the same effect on women? Why are you suddenly endowed with great wisdom?" Obi Wan wanted to know.

Padme was silent, pondering the question for a long time. Then she drew a breath and explained, "Because that's how the Force keeps everything in balance. Men become little boys and women become wise enough to run the universe without appearing to."

"Well, now your secret's out," Obi Wan said with a laugh.

"That's all right. You won't tell," Padme decided.

"Oh, I won't?" he challenged.

"Mmm-mmm," she shook her head.

"And why not?" he inquired.

"Because you love me. And nobody would believe you anyway," she said matter-of-factly.

Both exploded with laughter, and were still laughing a few minutes later when their bedroom door chime rang. Obi Wan boosted himself up on his elbow behind her, and Padme made a weak attempt at wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. She took a deep breath, and he cleared his throat, but neither one had really stopped chuckling as he started to speak.

"Come in, Ani," he called.

The door slid open to reveal their son, still blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair was pointing every which way, and in his left arm, he clutched the dilapidated stuffed insectoid that Anakin had brought him as a baby. His parents took one look at him and collapsed in hysterics again.

"You guys woke me up," he complained.

"Hair…" Padme gasped.

"…sticking up…" finished Obi Wan.

"I'm gonna go make Threepio get me breakfast," decided Ani with a shake of his head.

-----

In the great, vaulted halls of the Jedi temple, Anakin Skywalker was awake as well. In fact, he had not slept at all. His mind was awhirl with conflicting loyalties, conflicting desires. Master Windu expected him to spy on Palpatine. No. The _Council_ expected it. His Master expected obedience. It didn't matter to him or any of them that they were talking about _treason._

Palpatine's words from the day before still echoed through his mind. _"The Council keeps pushing for more control. More autonomy. They have lost all respect for the rule of law. They have become more concerned with avoiding the oversight of the Senate than with winning the war."_

Anakin had argued, of course. How could he not? Now, though, his words seemed hollow, and they echoed coldly through the corridor like the frustrated beat of his own footfalls, hammering at him. _"With respect, sir, many on the Council would say the same of you."_

He couldn't believe that he had even voiced such a thought to Palpatine. The Chancellor would have had every right to be angry with him, but he hadn't. Palpatine was never angry. He took everything in stride, and he seemed to already know exactly what Anakin meant. _"Oh, I have no doubt of it. Many of the Jedi on your Council would prefer I was out of office altogether--because they know I'm on to them, now. They're shrouded in secrecy, obsessed with covert action against mysteriously faceless enemies. The mysterious Lord Sidious. The Sith infiltrator in the highest levels of government. Doesn't that sound a little overly familiar to you, Anakin? A little overly convenient? How do you know this Sidious even exists? How do you know he is not a fiction, a fiction created by the Jedi Council, to give them an excuse to harass their political enemies? I have been reading about the history of the Sith for some years now. Ever since the Council saw fit to finally reveal to me their... assertion... that these millennium-dead sorcerers had supposedly sprung back to life. Not every tale about them is sequestered in your conveniently secret Temple archives. From what I have read, they were not so different from Jedi; seeking power, to be sure, but so does your Council._

Anakin had insisted that the Jedi were not a political organization. The Chancellor had countered that in a democracy, everyone and everything was political. He hadn't wanted to believe it. Yet he had to admit that Palpatine had been right. The Jedi had their own political agenda, and they wanted to use him as part of it, a pawn in whatever game they were playing.

_Be wary of Palpatine. Be careful of your feelings…_

He leaned against the wall, scrubbing his face with his hands. _Everyone_ had a political agenda. Even Palpatine. He _had_ to have one, even if everything Anakin had ever seen indicated to him that the man was honorable. The only person Anakin Skywalker knew who _didn't_ have one, whose own strong distaste for political maneuverings made it _impossible_ for him to have one was Obi Wan Kenobi.

How could he trust Obi Wan now either? How could he rely on the man who had not only _taken_ Padme but now intended to let her die? Just _let_ her…! His teeth clamped angrily at the thought, and he dropped his hands, letting them curl tightly into fists.

_Anakin. Whatever our differences, you know I am your friend._

Maybe he was, but what _kind_ of friend? Anakin had already seen that he and Obi Wan had widely different views of friendship. Wasn't _Padme_ supposed to have been his closest friend when Obi Wan watched her fall from the gunship on Geonosis? Hadn't he been willing to _leave_ her there--to let her die? Hadn't Obi Wan _lied_ to him for years about his feelings for Padme? Maybe he'd even spent the last _five months_ lying to him on the Outer Rim. Anakin didn't think that Padme would have hidden a pregnancy from her husband all this time. He had to have known, and yet he had said nothing. Anakin Skywalker did not have secrets from his friends. He did not _lie_ to those he loved, and he would not _betray_ those who trusted him.

_Except…_

Even as the thought passed through his mind, he knew that it was not true. There was one thing for which he knew without question that he would betray them--all of them--Obi Wan, Windu, even Palpatine. None of them mattered. Their politics, their lies, their duty. None of it _mattered._

_If this 'Darth Sidious' of yours were to walk through that door right now--and I could somehow stop you from killing him on the spot--do you know what I would do? I would ask him to sit down, and I would ask him if he has any power he could use to end this war!_

Palpatine's declaration was a political one. The Chancellor truly had no idea what he was saying. He had never _seen_ the Dark Side. Anakin Skywalker had seen it. He had fought it. For years, he had fought it. He pressed his hands to his face again, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Grief. Betrayal. Failure. Fear. Slowly, painfully, he slid to the floor. She was going to die. She was going to die, and her own _husband_ wouldn't lift a finger to help her!

_I won't let you go, Padme,_ he promised. _I _will _find a way to save you. I will!_

If Darth Sidious were to walk up to him right now, Anakin knew what he would do. He would demand to know if the Sith Lord possessed any power by which he might save Padme.

And when he had, she would see. She would understand. It had been _his_ love that saved her, not Obi Wan's. Because she had belonged to _him_ from the beginning. She was _supposed_ to be his. He had seen it in his dreams as a boy. It was _him _she had been meant to marry--_his_ children she was meant to bear. Ani was meant to be his. They all were. Obi Wan didn't _deserve_ them. He never had. And Anakin wouldn't fail them the way that he had failed his mother.


	43. Prophecy

The Republic gunship streaked through the busy sky of Coruscant. Sitting beside his father, Anakin Kenobi stared past Yoda and Mace Windu, out through the gunship's window at the vast deployment platform and the swarm of clones who were loading the assault cruiser at the far end. At breakfast earlier that morning--when his parents had finally managed to stop laughing enough to drag themselves to the table--Obi Wan had said that he was going to the temple later so that he could let Yoda know about the boats. Ani had wanted to come along, eager to see Yoda again, and Obi Wan had said that he didn't see a reason why not. When they got to the temple, though, it turned out that both Yoda and Master Windu were going to inspect the counter-invasion force that was being prepared for Kashyyyk.

Ani had been hoping that Yoda would be pleased when his father informed the ancient Master that he had started formal instruction in the ways of the Force. He had been looking forward to being able to show Yoda what he could do now. He thought that Yoda would be impressed and even maybe proud of him, but both he and Mace Windu had seemed to take Obi Wan's announcement as if they had known it was coming all along. Maybe they had.

Despite his own disappointment, he _was_ listening to the adults' discussion, although his outward attention was focused on the sights around him. Much of the argument confounded him, and so he had decided to stop using his ears to understand it. Instead, he simply let the words flow over him, concentrating past them, on the feelings and intent. This was not entirely a new idea to him; having spent much of his life in the company of adults, he had learned to pay attention to the way they_ felt_ as much as to what they _said._ It was only recently that he had begun to understand that in doing this, he had also been using the Force. When he was little, Qui-Gon had simply said things like, "listen to what they don't say," and of course, "listen to your feelings." Now, it came as naturally to him as using his ears, and if Yoda or Mace noticed, they raised no objection.

The conversation quickly turned to his Uncle Anakin's appointment to the Jedi Council. He was surprised to find that they had done it without making him a Master. Ani didn't really understand all the reasons for that, but he did sense that his father wasn't happy about it.

"An unintentional opportunity, the Chancellor has given us. A window he has opened into the operations of his office. Fools we would be, to close our eyes," Yoda declared in a voice that was firm and powerful, vastly different from the quiet understanding that Ani had experienced from the great Master the last time they had met.

"Then we should use someone else's eyes," Obi Wan countered, and Ani frowned at the strain he detected in his father. "Forgive me, Master Yoda, but you just don't know him the way I do. He is fiercely loyal, and there is not a gram of deception in him. You've all seen it; it's one of the arguments often used used against elevating him to Master: he lacks true Jedi reserve, that's what you've said. And by that we all mean that he wears his emotions like a Holonet banner. How can you ask him to lie to a friend, to _spy_ upon him? You don't know how much Palpatine's friendship has meant to him over the years. You're asking him to use that friendship as a weapon! To stab his friend in the back. Don't you understand what this will cost him, even if Palpatine is entirely innocent? Especially if he's innocent. Their relationship will never be the same--"

"And that is exactly why this plan has been approved," Master Windu cut Ani's father off. There was another kind of strain in him--something deeper that was both intense and incredibly tired. "I have told you what I have seen of the energy between Anakin and the Supreme Chancellor. Anything that might distance young Skywalker from Palpatine's influence is worth the attempt. Furthermore, I _do_ know him, Obi Wan. Perhaps not quite so well as you--but I _did_ complete his training when you left the Order. He is not the same boy you knew. I have confidence in his ability to perform this task."

"I don't dispute your role as Anakin's Master, Mace. Nor do I wish to challenge the Council's authority to decide how best to place its own resources," Obi Wan inclined his head. "We are all still on the same side. But I would have been remiss if I had not voiced my concerns to you. I am grateful to you both for allowing me to continue to play a part here, and I will, of course, do whatever I can to help."

"Doubt of that, none of us has," Yoda promised.

"I had my own reservations about this," Mace said, bringing the discussion quickly back to the original topic. "There is danger involved in even _putting_ Anakin and Palpatine together. But, we have seen that he has the power to battle a Sith Lord alone, if it comes to that; he has proven that with Dooku. He is the one Jedi we can best hope would survive an encounter with Sidious."

"And if he doesn't?" Obi Wan closed his eyes.

"We don't always have the perfect answer," Mace Windu said. "Sometimes there _isn't_ a perfect answer--or even a right answer."

"Know how important your friendship with young Anakin is to you, I do," Yoda said. "Allow such attachments to pass out of one's life, a Jedi must."

"I am not a Jedi, Master Yoda," Obi Wan reminded him.

"More a Jedi you are than some who still wear the robes," Yoda said mildly.

Ani frowned and turned to watch his father's reaction. Obi Wan glanced away from the Master's steady yellow-green gaze, and Ani could feel the sadness that he was trying not to show. He bit his lip, unused to such mixed up feelings from his father.

"I suppose--he is the Chosen One, after all. The prophecy says he was born to bring balance to the Force, but…" Obi Wan was trying to get the conversation back on Anakin again, but his words trailed off, and Ani's frown deepened. It wasn't like his father to forget what he was saying, or not know what to say. His father was The Negotiator.

"Yes. Always in motion, the future is," Yoda lifted his head, eyes narrowing to slits as he considered his own words. "And the prophecy, misread could have been."

"Since the fall of Darth Bane more than a millennium ago, there have been hundreds of thousands of Jedi--hundreds of thousands of Jedi feeding the light with each work of their hands, with each breath, with every beat of their hearts, bringing justice, building civil society, radiating peace, acting out of selfless love for all living things--and in all these thousand years, there have been only two Sith at any time. Only two. Jedi create light, but the Sith do not create darkness. They merely use the darkness that is always there. That has always been there. Greed and jealousy, aggression and lust and fear--these are all natural to sentient beings. The legacy of the jungle. Our inheritance from the dark," Master Windu said grimly.

"I'm sorry, Master Windu, but I'm not sure I follow you. Are you saying--to follow your metaphor--that the Jedi have cast too much light? From what I have seen these past years, the galaxy has not become all that bright a place," observed Obi Wan.

"All I am saying is that we don't _know._ We don't even truly understand what it means _to bring balance to the Force._ We have no way of anticipating what this may involve."

"An infinite mystery is the Force. The more we learn, the more we discover how much we do not know," Yoda's voice was soft and his reverence a pleasant caress that soothed the troubled atmosphere.

"So you both feel it, too," murmured Obi Wan. More and more, Ani sensed deep hurt in his father. He wasn't sure why, but a heavy weight settled on his own chest, and he swallowed hard. "You both can feel that we have turned some invisible corner."

"In motion, are the events of our time. Approach, the crisis does," agreed Yoda.

"Yes," Mace locked his fingers and gave his knuckles a series of disconcerting pops. "But we're in a spice mine without a glow rod. If we stop walking, we'll never reach the light."

"And what if the light isn't where we expect it to be?" Obi Wan asked. "What if we get to the end of this tunnel and find only night?"

"Faith must we have. Trust in the will of the Force. What other choice is there?" Yoda told them, and it seemed to Ani that he was addressing all three of them, both individually and together. Anakin Kenobi lowered his head thoughtfully, absorbing those words, which resonated deep within his young heart.

"I thought you had more confidence in Anakin's abilities," Mace said to Obi Wan.

"I trust him with my life," Obi Wan said simply. "And that is precisely the problem."

Ani raised his eyebrows in confusion. The two Jedi Masters waited while his father searched for words.

"For Anakin, there is nothing more important than friendship. He is the most loyal man I have ever met--loyal beyond reason, in fact. Despite all we have tried to teach him about the sacrifices that are the heart of being a Jedi he--he will never, I think, truly understand." Obi Wan paused and looked over at Yoda. "Master Yoda, you and I have been close since I was a boy. An infant. Yet if ending this war one week sooner--one _day_ sooner--were to require that I sacrifice your life, you know I would."

"As you should," Yoda said. "As I would yours, young Obi Wan. As any Jedi would any other, in the cause of peace."

"Any Jedi," Obi Wan sighed, "except Anakin."

Yoda and Mace looked at each other, considering the statement, their faces and feelings grim. Ani guessed they were remembering all the stories he had heard about his uncle violating orders--risking everything--just to save a friend. Most of the time, it seemed to him that the friend was Obi Wan, and that more than anything else, was what made him love Anakin Skywalker. If being a Jedi meant letting his father die, he decided that he was glad he wasn't going to be one.

"I think," Obi Wan said slowly, "that abstractions like _peace_ don't mean much to him. He's loyal to _people,_ not to principles. And he expects loyalty in return. He will stop at nothing to save me, for example, because he thinks I would do the same for him."

Mace and Yoda gazed at his father steadily, and, and Ani felt something cold and uncomfortable begin to snake it's way out of his stomach. His throat began to constrict with dread until Obi Wan lowered his head and continued, "Because, he _knows_ I would do the same for him."

"Understand exactly where your concern lies, I do not," Yoda murmured, now in the softly sympathetic tone that Ani remembered. "_Named_ your fear must be, before banish it you can. Do you fear that perform his task, he cannot?"

"Oh, no," Obi Wan shook his head. "That's not it at all. I am firmly convinced that Anakin can do anything. Except betray a friend."

-----

"I don't think Master Windu's right, Dad," Ani said suddenly.

Obi Wan looked up from the holoprojected intelligence report in front of him, somewhat startled. Ani had said little after they left Yoda and Master Windu. Obi Wan had decided that it was best to give the boy time to consider all he had seen and heard. He knew that when he was ready, Ani would broach the subject himself, but he had expected questions, not opinions.

Ani was playing on the floor beside the couch, and Obi Wan turned to him with a smile of encouragement. "You don't?"

"No," Ani frowned, scrambling off the floor. He climbed onto the couch beside his father and crossed his arms.

"Why not?" Obi Wan asked.

"Qui-Gon says the Dark Side is growing stronger. It's everywhere. If the Jedi made too much light it wouldn't be, would it?"

Obi Wan frowned. "I don't really know, Ani. Remember, Master Windu wasn't certain himself. None of us know what the prophecy really means."

"But we know Uncle Anakin is the Chosen One," Ani said, his voice rising slightly at the end, making it half a question.

"Qui-Gon believed it," he said.

"And you do," Ani said.

"I've come to believe it, yes," nodded Obi Wan.

"You know how Master Windu said we're in a spice mine without a glow rod?" Ani asked.

"Mmm-hmm," his father nodded.

"Maybe the Chosen One has the glow rod. Maybe the prophecy means that only Uncle Anakin is really strong enough to bring the light _through_ the darkness," suggested Ani.

Obi Wan's eyes widened at the idea. Then he frowned again, bringing his right hand slowly to his chin. He stroked his beard in thought, murmuring, "I hope so, son. I truly do."


	44. The Voice of Reason

The speeder glided down on the broad, curving balcony outside of Padme's apartment. Threepio and her two handmaidens disembarked, and she smiled faintly as Ani conferred with her security captain before climbing out and extending a hand to assist her. She accepted, then dismissed the girls and sent Threepio inside. Ani moved off to the corner where his father had moved the toys his previous night, and Padme rested her elbows on the railing, watching her vehicle fly off toward the residential speeder park.

She wasn't really seeing it. In her mind, she could see only her husband's face. He had come to her office to drop off their son and give her the news. Clone Intelligence had located General Grievous on Utapau. The Jedi Council was sending _him_ to apprehend the Separatist commander, while Yoda was to oversee the counter-invasion of Kashyyyk. Anakin had been furious when the Council made their decision, but she didn't think _that_ was the reason for the holodisk that Obi Wan had slipped into her hand before he left.

"_Make sure this reaches Palpatine's office, but not until after I've gone," he whispered, pressing his lips to her cheek._

_She frowned, glancing down at the small disk as he wrapped her fingers around it. "What is it?"_

_"My resignation from the Grand Army of the Republic," he replied. Then, he took a step back and smiled before he turned to their son._

_He knelt, and Padme's eyes swam with tears as the two embraced. Obi Wan also had parting instructions for him, and although she couldn't hear what was said, she could easily imagine what passed between them. Ani clung to his neck and nodded, promising silently to do as his father asked._

_In another moment, he was gone, and Padme had to beat down sudden, irrational anger. A four-year-old boy should not be burdened with the responsibility of keeping his mother safe. He shouldn't have to go to sleep at night wondering if he would ever see his beloved father again._

_"Do you think Uncle Anakin will say he's sorry, Mom?" Ani asked, staring glumly out the window toward the spires of the Jedi Temple._

_"I don't know. I hope so," Padme replied, moving to stand beside him._

_Her hand drifted down to squeeze his shoulder, and he looked hopefully up at her. "Maybe you could make him."_

_"I don't think anyone could make your Uncle Anakin do something he doesn't want to," she told him sadly._

_"You could make him want to, Mom," Ani said._

_Padme turned and reached out with the index finger of her free hand, gently brushing his cheek. "I'll try."_

She had sent a message to the temple, hoping that Anakin would come before Obi Wan actually left. He hadn't, though, now and Padme raised her hands to her face, trying to block out the memory of her husband's haunted eyes. This war had cost him so much already--now it seemed that it was about to cost him his oldest friend.

_"My resignation from the Grand Army of the Republic…" _

She swallowed hard, choking back a bitter sob. No, it wasn't Anakin who had brought about such a decision from him. Nor was it Padme or even his children, although all that either of them had wanted was an end to the fighting--a reason for the holodisk that now lay heavily in her pocket. If Palpatine moved against the Jedi, Obi Wan would have been exempt from whatever sanctions were placed on them. However, _General Kenobi_ would be required to support the Supreme Chancellor. If the Jedi themselves decided to act, attempting to arrest Palpatine, _General Kenobi_ would be expected to defend him. He wouldn't, of course. He couldn't. This way, as neither Jedi nor General, Obi Wan was free to follow his conscience.

Padme suspected that _this_ was what he had been planning with Mace and Yoda the day that Palpatine was given control of the Jedi Council. Today's Council session had been a farce, conducted under Anakin's eyes for Palpatine's benefit. They had already _decided_ who was going to be sent after Grievous. They had probably even decided that Yoda would be sent to Kashyyyk. Anakin was being used, whether he would consciously spy on Palpatine or not. When he realized that, he would blame Obi Wan, and she wasn't sure that they would ever find a way to heal the breach this time.

"Uncle Anakin!" Ani cried suddenly.

Padme jerked her head up in surprise. Then she smiled at the sight of the speeder that was angling toward the landing deck on her balcony. Ani sprang up, and both of them rushed to meet the young Knight as he vaulted from the craft.

He hung back uncertaintly, suddenly aware that they had every right to be angry with him. Staring uncomfortably down at his boots, he coughed, "You asked to see me, Padme?"

"I knew you'd come!" Ani exclaimed, flinging his arms around his namesake. Peering up at him, he went on, "We heard they put you on the Council, too, Uncle…"

Anakin's became even more embarrassed. "It's nothing to be proud of. This is just political maneuvering between the Council and the Chancellor. I got caught in the middle, that's all."

"But you're still the youngest Jedi ever on the Council!" Ani reminded him, undeterred.

"They put me on the Council because they had to, Ani. Because Palpatine told them to, once the Senate gave him control of the Jedi," Anakin's face darkened, and his voice became almost a growl. "And because they think they can use me against him. They'll give me a chair in the Council Chamber, but that's as far as it will go. They won't accept me as a Master, and yet they want me to do their dirty work with Palpatine."

"Dad tried to talk them out of it," Ani bit his lip, pressing his forehead against Anakin's stomach in a reassuring hug. He'll try again when he comes home, too. He said so."

Anakin blinked. His hand moved tentatively to touch the back of Ani's head, and he shot a questioning look toward Padme. She nodded. "Obi Wan never wanted you to be put in this position, Anakin. And he _does_ recognize your abilities. In time, the Council will too. But right now--"

Anakin sighed heavily, pulling away from Ani. He stalked over to the balcony and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "They already recognize my abilities. They fear my abilities," he said bitterly. "But this isn't even about that. Like I said: it's a political game."

"Anakin--"

"I don't know what's happening to the Order, but whatever it is, I don't like it," he went on, and she realized that he wasn't hearing her at all. "This war is destroying everything the Republic is supposed to stand for. I mean, what are we fighting for, anyway? What about all this is worth saving?"

"This is," Padme said, reaching for his hand. "Friendship. A little boy's love. Anakin, please. There might still be enough time. Talk to Obi Wan before he leaves. Don't make him go like this."

Anakin closed his eyes. He took a long breath, then opened them again and looked from her to the hopeful blue eyes of her son. He gave a short nod, and Padme heard a smile in his voice as he asked, "You wanna come with me? Say goodbye to your dad?"

-----

A train of hovertanks whirred up the ramp into the sky-shrouding wedge of the assault cruiser. After it marched rank upon immaculately regimented rank of clone troopers. Obi Wan watched them go, then stood on the landing deck for a while longer, while a clone deck crew load his blue-and-white starfighter onto the cruiser's flight deck. Then, with no further excuse, he sighed and started up the ramp.

"Obi Wan!"

He smiled. Turning toward the familiar voice, he watched the speeder land, and then frowned gently as he realized who was riding beside his former Padawan. Both Anakins piled out of the vehicle, then the elder hurried around to swing Ani into his arms. He jogged the remaining distance between them and offered a hesitant smile.

"Ani wanted to say goodbye," he explained.

"Did you?" Obi Wan asked, moving to take the boy from his uncle. Ani nodded silently, winding his arms around his father's neck. Obi Wan winked. "Well. Remember what I told you in Mommy's office, all right?"

Ani looked steadily back at him, his brow furrowing in a brief moment of confusion. Then he nodded again. Obi Wan did not stop smiling, but the shadow that passed through his son's eyes was enough to make him cringe inside.

_If anything happens while I'm gone, Ani, you must make sure that your mother doesn't stay on Coruscant. You're to go with Uncle Bail, do you understand? I'll meet you as soon as I can._

"You're going to need me on this one, Obi Wan," Anakin murmured, drawing him from his thoughts. He felt his throat tighten, and his smile faltered for a moment. As simply as that, they were both forgiven--that was the way it had always been between himself and Anakin.

"Oh, I agree. However it may turn out just to be a wild bantha chase," he replied. ""Your job here is much more important."

"I know: The Sith," the Knight sighed heavily. "I just--I don't like you going off without me like this. It's a bad idea to split up the team. I mean, look what happened last time."

"Don't remind me."

"You want to go spend another few months with somebody like Ventress? Or worse?" Anakin asked hopefully.

"Don't worry. I have enough clones to take three systems the size of Utapau's. I believe I should be able to handle the situation, even without your help," Obi Wan smiled.

"Well, there's always a first time," smirked Anakin.

"We're not really splitting up, Anakin. We've worked on our own many times—like when you took Padme to Naboo while I went to Kamino and Geonosis," Obi Wan pointed out.

"And look how _that_ turned out," Anakin's tone was just slightly brittle.

"All right, bad example," Obi Wan admitted ruefully. "Yet years later, here we all are: still alive, and still friends. My point is that even when we work separately, we work together. We have the same goals: end the war, and save the Republic from the Sith. As long as we're on the same side, everything will come out well in the end. I'm certain of it."

"Well..." Anakin sighed. "I suppose you could be right. You are, once in a while. Occasionally."

Obi Wan chuckled and shifted Ani back into the Knight's arms. He passed a hand over the boy's hair and murmured, "I love you. It'll be up to you to keep your Uncle Anakin out of trouble this time.

"I will, Dad," Ani promised.

"I know you will," nodded Obi Wan. Then he looked up at Anakin and clapped the Knight on the shoulder. "Farewell, old friend."

"Master," Anakin said as he turned away.

His eyebrows rose at the discomfort he sensed in his friend, and he turned to face the Knight again. "Anakin, I've told you…"

"You've always been my Master. I mean no disrespect to Master Windu. But as much as he has taught me over the last few years, it was your training that made me a Jedi. I've disappointed you, and I'm sorry. The things I said to you the other day--and in the Council Chamber this afternoon--it was arrogant, all of it. I have not been very appreciative of your training, and what's worse of your friendship. I should never have spoken to you that way. Your friendship means everything to me."

"You are strong and wise, Anakin. You are a credit to the Jedi Order, and you have far surpassed my humble efforts at instruction," Obi Wan replied, feeling the tightness in his chest abate for the first time since his last meeting with Mace and Yoda.

"Just the other day, you were saying that my power is no credit to me," Anakin reminded him.

"I'm not speaking of your power, Anakin, but of your heart. The greatness in you is a greatness of spirit. Courage and generosity, compassion and commitment. These are your virtues." Obi Wan said gently. "You have done great things, and I am very proud of you."


	45. An Unbreakable Trust

The landing platform swirled and glistened in a shining haze of unshed tears as Anakin Kenobi watched his father's ship disappear. A calloused finger touched his chin, and he turned to look down into his uncle's bright, blue-green eyes. The Knight casually brushed a tear from Ani's face and offered a smile.

"He'll be back soon," he promised.

Ani nodded firm agreement. "He'll get Grievious, too."

"You bet he will," replied Anakin.

"I wish you were going with him," Ani sighed. "Who's supposed to keep him safe?"

"He's still got Commander Cody and all those clones. They've gotta be as good as one of me, right?" one side of Anakin's mouth turned up teasingly.

"I guess," Ani allowed, his gaze drifting back toward the sky, where the ship was a faint dot on the horizon.

"Hey," said Anakin. "You wanna come back to the Temple with me tonight?"

"You're tryin'a distract me," Ani told him, tilting his head knowingly.

"Yeah. But you can still come to the Temple with me," Anakin shrugged.

"What about Mom?" he asked.

"We can call her when we get there," his uncle replied, starting back toward the speeder.

Ani sighed and rolled his eyes. "Uncle Anakin."

"What…?" asked the Knight with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"She _said_ we were s'posed to be back in time for dinner," the boy reminded him.

Anakin frowned. "She did, didn't she?"

"Uh-huh," nodded Ani.

"Well," Anakin said as he set the boy in the passenger seat and busied himself with strapping him in. "Lemme think about that."

"Right," Ani ran a hand over his face.

Anakin pulled back and gave him a long look. "You're starting to sound like your Dad."

"And that's a bad thing?" Ani asked.

"The jury's out on that," replied his uncle as he walked around to slide into the other side of the vehicle.

"He told me to keep you out of trouble," Ani pointed out.

"Yeah, he did. Wait, I got it," said Anakin.

"Got what?"

"She told us to be back in time for dinner _before_ she knew you were sleeping at the Temple tonight. It doesn't count now," Anakin decided.

"Okay…" Ani's voice trailed off as the speeder rose into the air.

-----

"Okay…" Padme said reluctantly.

"Yay!" her son hopped up and down in front of the viewscreen.

She smiled. Bail had scheduled a meeting early the next morning, and she supposed it would be good to have Ani somewhere else. She could leave without having to explain herself to Threepio or the handmaidens. Slipping past security was always more difficult with a four-year-old in tow, and if she had left him with them, she would have had to tell them where she was going. It was not out of the ordinary for her to meet with other senators, especially Bail Organa, in the course of her daily activities, but she thought it would be best if no one was aware of anything that might even be perceived as clandestine involvement in an organized resistance to the Chancellor.

"Are you sure it won't be any trouble?" she asked Anakin again. So far, the Jedi had been nothing but welcoming to Ani, but an occasional visit to the temple with his father might be different from spending the night there. Given their view of attachment, she wondered if they might begin to object to his close relationship with Anakin. The Kenobis already felt themselves to be a sort of surrogate family to the young Knight, and he had become like a second father to their son, but Jedi weren't supposed to _have_ family.

"The place is almost empty already," Anakin shrugged. "Hardly anyone here except the younglings. I doubt anyone will object."

"What about your duties?" Padme frowned.

"I made my report to the Chancellor already. That's where I was when you sent me the message from your office," he explained.

"All right," Padme said, more decisively this time. "He can stay until I get home from the Senate tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mom!"

"Ani, listen. Behave yourself--and no cake for dinner," warned Padme.

"Awww…" Anakin sighed.

Padme raised a hand to her face and stifled a laugh. Ani grinned at his namesake, and she realized that she would probably be awakened in the middle of the night by an overwhelmed uncle who was not equipped to deal with a little boy's stomachache. "No cake for dinner" didn't mean "no dessert." Of course, she would let them have their fun anyway.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said with a fond shake of her head. She blew the view screen a kiss and ended the call, still laughing to herself as she walked out of the bedroom.

-----

For the rest of the day, Anakin Skywalker forgot the war. He even forgot Obi Wan. He became what he most wanted to be--perfectly at peace, exploring the Jedi Temple with his young friend. They sat in on a training session with the Bear Clan, and he hid a grin because Ani was disappointed to hear that Master Windu was conducting the class since Yoda was already gone to Kashyyyk. Mace shot him a look that said he was well aware of the Knight's amusement and did not find the situation so funny. They walked the gardens and had dinner in the Temple commissary.

To Ani, all of these things were amazing--as fantastic as his trip to Dex's Diner and then some. Had that really been just a few days ago? Watching the boy, Anakin wasn't sure whether it seemed as though that day had just ended or if it had happened in another life altogether. So much had changed since then--so much that he had come to rely upon, his bedrock, his buffer against the turbulence inside of him, the mainstay that kept him anchored through the swirling storm of darkness around him--in him.

He pushed those thoughts aside and focused on Ani. The boy was bubbling with questions again, and perfectly willing to accept whatever answers that Anakin provided as the absolute truth. Of course, every answer sparked a cascade of further inquiries, and he began to wonder how Padme and Obi Wan ever managed to accomplish anything if they had to devote so much of their time and energy to their son. He also started to develop a certain sympathy for Obi Wan, recalling all the times _he_ had plagued his former teacher with questions like this.

Eventually, Obi Wan's solution would always be to set him to some Jedi exercise meant to quiet his mind and focus his excess of energy on learning. As the thought occurred to him, Anakin was suddenly struck with inspiration. With dinner over, he took Ani into one of the empty training rooms and had him hold open a mesh bag while he grabbed an assortment of remotes and other training devices from the neatly arranged shelves. As an afterthought, he also took a battered old helmet from one of the hooks on the wall and plopped it on the boy's head.

They made a rather comical procession on their way to the temple roof, but the few Jedi who paused to talk with them in the hallways displayed only mild curiosity. However, when the turbolift opened to reveal Master Windu, Anakin felt his stomach drop. Despite the fact that he had already been a Knight for two years, his relationship with this man was still very much that of a student to a teacher. He believed that he had earned the Master's respect, but Mace was an intense man, and he tended to be hardest on those under his direct tutelage. The last few months of the war seemed to have made him even more gruff and disapproving--of everything--but especially of Anakin.

Now he gently lifted an eyebrow and peered down at Ani. Then his eyes moved slowly upward and settled on the Knight's face with a silent question. Anakin let his hand fall lightly onto his namesake's shoulder and led him onto the lift. The doors slid closed again, and Anakin pressed the button for the roof, then turned to studiously examine the emblem of the Jedi Order emblazoned on the doors.

"Good evening, my Master," he said casually.

"Anakin," Mace nodded, then looked back at Ani and allowed a very faint hint of smile to raise the left corner of his mouth. "Young Kenobi."

"Good evening, Master Windu," Ani said gravely.

Anakin coughed and raised a fist to his lips. "Ani's mind was restless, Master. I thought some training before bed…"

Mace accepted this explanation with typical silence. He clasped his hands and pressed two fingers to his lips, regarding them thoughtfully. To another, his expression might have seemed utterly unchanged. In the space of a few moments, though, Anakin saw the familiar glower shift from surprised to distinctly disapproving to something that almost resembled affectionate.

"Very well," he said as the lift stopped. The doors whooshed softly open again, and the Master swept out, robes billowing in his wake.

The two Anakins stared after him with wide eyes. Ani finally turned and stared up at his uncle in disbelief. "I thought you were gonna get it!"

"So did I," Anakin admitted, leaning over to press the button again and continue their journey to the roof.

"Why'd he let you get away with it?" Ani frowned.

"Don't know," said Anakin thoughtfully. He rubbed his chin, considering the question. It was one thing to let Ani _come_ here. The Jedi were still the closest thing to family that Obi Wan had, and that made them Ani's family in a way, too. Master Yoda seemed to have some special affinity with the boy, and apparently, so did Master Windu. Still, that was very different from letting him be _trained_ here, without formal acceptance into the Order or even the supervision of a recognized Master. There was little they could do if Obi Wan wanted to instruct him; he was the boy's father. Anakin, however, had hardly expected a member of the Jedi Council to allow _him_ to teach Ani--especially not in a setting like this, where the training was part of a sleepover and not conducted with the requisite solemnity and decorum. Perhaps Obi Wan wasn't the only one who realized how deeply his current assignment troubled him. Maybe Obi Wan wasn't the one who trusted him, either. Behind his hand, a surprised smile touched Anakin Skywalker's lips. Could it be that his Master truly realized how important this boy was to him--that Mace understood the unexpected peace that Ani brought to his mind and heart?

He was still mulling over these questions when they stepped onto the roof. Ani looked around in astonishment at the burnished gold sky. Anakin kept a hand on his shoulder and stood watching the Coruscanti sunset. A light wind whipped their hair and rippled pleasantly through their clothing.

"What are we gonna do first, Uncle?" Ani asked.

He smiled and winked, then busied himself with emptying the bag he'd brought along. He found it slightly surprising that Ani was content to watch and wait. _He_ would have still been firing questions while Obi Wan worked--if Obi Wan even started this way, of course. In all likelihood, the lesson would have begun with a lecture on the importance of patience, and then at least fifteen minutes of boring breathing exercises which, as far as Anakin was concerned, served no other purpose than to force him to stop talking. He recalled having spent most of them contemplating the things that he would do differently when _he_ became the Master.

So, that was exactly what he did now--or at least what he pretended. Ani wasn't his Padawan and never would be, but it was easy to convince himself that his illusion was reality. Dodgebolt was a simple game meant to heighten a youngling's ability to sense and avoid danger through the Force. The low-powered remotes would cause no real harm, although their shots did sting, but learning to block those shots would teach a youngling to heed the warnings of the Force in combat. Of course, the game was usually conducted with training sabers for their protection. Anakin had brought one with him, but impulsively discarded it in favor of his own weapon--the weapon of a Jedi Knight. He knew that Ani was ready for it; he had heard what the boy had done with Qui-Gon's lightsaber. That couldn't have been the _only_ time that he had used the weapon, and even if it was, Anakin had no doubt that he could keep the boy safe.

He looked ridiculous with the face-shield down over his eyes, too-big lightsaber clutched in both hands, doing a familiar little jiggling, hopping dance whenever one of the remotes managed to score a hit. At first, those hits came almost every time. Anakin, however, didn't laugh. He knew how humiliating this game could be--knew the sensation of feeling that everyone in the Temple was laughing, which stung far worse than the low-intensity blaster bolts employed by the remotes. He kept his attention firmly on the boy, both visually and through the Force, well aware of how dangerous a lightsaber could be in untrained hands. He was ready to intervene in the twitch of an eyelash, but he found that there was no need.

The chagrin of failure soon became the joy of success as Ani began to anticipate the danger of an impending sting and avoid it. Anakin felt his elation with each triumph, and he shared it, feeling the boy's confidence begin to grow, feeling his natural, unconscious connection with the Force become something more--something intense and wonderful as he became aware, perhaps for the first time, of the luminous flow, the interconnectedness of everything around him, in a way that only a Jedi could be.

When he grew tired of the game, Anakin didn't press. He quietly took the lightsaber back and hooked it to his belt. Then, the two of them together put the remotes away, and Anakin sat down, resting his back against one of the temple spires. He held out his arms in invitation, and Ani settled between his knees, letting his head fall back against the Knight's shoulder. A hush fell over both of them as they rested their, watching the stars begin to prick their way through the blanket of the Coruscanti night.

"I love you, Uncle Anakin," Ani murmured sleepily.

Anakin pressed his lips to the boy's temple. "I love you, too, son."


	46. The Chosen One

Anakin walked back to his quarters with the bag of training supplies over one shoulder and his snoring nephew over the other. He dropped the bag in the corner by the door and walked over to the bed, where he gently deposited Ani. Careful not to wake him, the Knight slid off the boy's boots and picked him up again, pulling back the covers with his other hand. Ani stirred against his shoulder and mumbled a protest, but he froze, rubbing the boy's back soothingly until he quieted. Once he was soundly asleep again, Anakin lowered him onto the mattress and eased the blankets over him.

He waited for a few more moments, then slowly backed toward the door. It slid open, letting him step out into the hallway, and he bent inside again to pick up the bag. Slinging it back over his shoulder, he made his way slowly to the training room and took his time putting everything away.

It only took a few minutes. Once he was finished, there was nothing else to do but go back to his quarters. As soon as Ani had fallen asleep, reality began to reassert itself on the troubled Knight, and he hoped that at least being in the same _room_ with the boy would do something to assuage the fear and anguish that began to seep up from his stomach, eating away at his insides like a slow and painful cancer--but a cancer whose every inch of growth he could feel, a cancer that was not only alive but sentient, mocking. That cancer had begun, more and more often, to take on the voice of the Supreme Chancellor.

Not that it was Palpatine he feared. No, but Palpatine continued to _voice_ fears that Anakin had hardly dared admit to having. They were the fears that whispered in the darkest corners of his mind, places he knew that it would be best to expunge--and yet he couldn't--because the question remained--what if those fears existed because Palpatine was right?

He sighed and sank onto the floor beside the bed, trying to release these thoughts, move past thought and emotion, to find peace in the current of the Force, but even there, the darkness crowded in around him, choking him with its cold, wet tendrils of doubt. There was another reason that he'd been late answering Padme's message. Palaptine had confided in him…something which seemed unthinkable. He hadn't wanted to believe it. He had no reason to believe it. He had pushed it out of his mind and _refused _to believe it--refused to even _consider _it. Yet that conversation now began to replay itself in his mind, and he could not shrink away, could not bury it. He _had_ to know the truth.

_"So, Anakin," Palpatine asked, "Are you going to see your friend off?"_

_"I--it's complicated, sir. We had…a disagreement," Anakin said uncomfortably._

_"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Palpatine's brow furrowed in concern. "May I ask what it was about, my boy?"_

_Anakin looked down. He swallowed hard. Then he opened his mouth again, but it took several seconds before he could actually force the words out of his tightly constricting throat. "Padme is pregnant."_

_"Oh!" the Chancellor's mouth popped open, his eyes bulging with profound concern. "Oh, dear."_

_"Aren't you going to tell me that it's none of my business?" Anakin asked bitterly._

_"Of course not, Anakin, of course not!" Palpatine hurried to lay a hand on his arm. "Senator Kenobi is your friend--and, if I may be so bold, I daresay I know how much she means to you, son. Really."_

_"They seem to believe that it's the will of the Force," Anakin explained._

_"I'm afraid I don't believe in the will of the Force," Palpatine said his tone becoming suddenly and uncharacteristically harsh. "I believe it is our will that matters. I believe that everything good in our civilization has come about not by the blind action of some mystical field of energy, but by the focused will of people: lawmakers and warriors, inventors and engineers, struggling with every breath of their bodies to shape galactic culture. To improve the lives of all, not to carelessly allow such a precious life to end before it's time."_

Anakin had found that he had no answer for this. He still didn't. He had made some noise about the Jedi Way, spit back the things that he had been taught. Both he and Palpatine knew, though, that Obi Wan had been the one who indoctrinated him with Jedi philosophy. Both of them knew that the words he was speaking were more Obi Wan's than his own. The Chancellor let the matter drop, realizing how uncomfortable the subject was for him--how painful even the thought of what might happen to Padme was.

He gave his report, and the conversation then moved to the Chancellor's concerns over the mission to Utapau. He still felt that Anakin himself should have been sent to apprehend Grievous. More than that, he was concerned that the mission had been given to Obi Wan.

_"My friends among the Senators have picked up some--disturbing rumors about him. Many in the Senate believe that Kenobi is not fit for this assignment. He is no longer a Jedi, after all. Such an important task really should have been entrusted to someone whose loyalties are more certain," Palpatine said apologetically._

_"Are you serious?" Anakin's eyes widened. He couldn't believe what he was hearing!_

_"I'm most serious, I'm afraid. It is a... complicated situation, Anakin. It seems there are some in the Senate who now regret having granted me emergency powers," replied the Chancellor._

_"There have been dissenters and naysayers since before Geonosis, sir. Why should it be cause for concern now? And how does it affect Obi Wan?"_

_"I'm getting to that," Palpatine took a deep breath and swung his chair around so that he could gaze through his window of armored transparisteel onto the cityscape beyond. "The difference is that now, some of these Senators—actually a large number of them--seem to have given up on democracy. Unable to achieve their ends in the Senate, they are organizing into a cabal, preparing to remove me by--other means."_

_"You mean treason?" Anakin shook his head. It was impossible. Not Obi Wan. Not ever. No matter what their personal problems, he could not believe such a thing--but then, a few days ago, he would never have believed that Obi Wan would stand by and watch his own wife die._

_"I'm afraid so. The rumor is that the ringleaders of this group may have fallen victim to the... persuasive powers... of the Jedi Council, and are on their way to becoming accomplices in the Council's plot against the Republic."_

_"Sir, I--" Anakin shook his head. "This just seems--ridiculous."_

_"And it may be entirely false. Remember that these are only rumors. Entirely unconfirmed. Senate gossip is rarely accurate, but if this is true...we must be prepared, Anakin. I still have friends enough in the Senate to catch the scent of whatever this disloyal cabal is cooking up. And I have a very good idea of who the leaders are. In fact, my final meeting tomorrow afternoon is with a delegation representing the cabal. The Jedi Council, however, is another matter entirely. A secret society of antidemocratic beings who wield tremendous power individually as well as collectively—how am I to trace the labyrinth of their plots? That's why I put you on the Council. If these rumors are true, you may be democracy's last hope."_

_Anakin bowed his head. He grit his teeth and bit back a sudden, angry retort. None of this _mattered _to him. None of it! What did the fate of democracy mean to him when Padme was going to die? He was tired of being everyone's last hope--tired of fighting everyone else's battles--the only battle that Anakin Skywalker cared about was the battle to save the woman he loved. _

_"You still haven't told me how this affects Obi Wan," he reminded the Chancellor, forcing his voice to remain calmly respectful. "You said yourself that he is no longer a Jedi."_

_"Yes, I did, my boy, I did," the Chancellor's expression was pained. "But didn't you in fact tell me that he has recently been to speak with Yoda--privately--on more than one occasion? That he alluded to concerns about me…about my intentions for the Republic?"_

_"Chancellor Palpatine, I--that was--not what he meant--" Anakin broke off lamely._

_"Anakin, I'm sorry. Truly. I didn't want to be the one to tell you this. It seems that both of the Kenobis has been in contact with a certain Senator who is known to be among the leaders of this cabal. Apparently, very close contact. The rumor is that this Senator was seen leaving their residence a few nights ago at an...unseemly hour. That there have, in fact, been several meetings--"_

_-----_

"No! No, Mom, no!"

Anakin's bowed head snapped up at the cry. He sprang to his feet before he was even aware that he was moving. "Ani!"

"Mom! Mom, please--please don't give up!"

"Ani," the Knight bent over his namesake, giving the boy's shoulder a hard shake. "It's okay, Anakin. I'm here."

Ani's eyes popped open, and even in the thick darkness, he could read the fear there. Not that he had to. The whole room was embroiled in fear. Darkness that he couldn't push his way through. He sank onto the side of the bed, and Ani surged up from the pillows, clinging to him.

Anakin took a ragged breath and brought a hand up to touch the back of his hair. It was soaked with sweat. The boy's whole body was clammy and drenched with perspiration. He trembled in his uncle's arms, sobbing violently. Anakin swallowed several times, trying vainly to find words of comfort. There weren't any. How could he tell Ani that everything would be all right--how could he _lie?_

"I don't want her to die!" Ani sobbed, his voice muffled against the Knight's heaving chest.

"She won't," he heard himself saying.

Ani pulled back, staring up at him in disbelief, radiating fear--hope. "Dad said…"

"I don't _care_ what your father said," Anakin told him fiercely. He hugged the boy tighter, buried his lips in his hair. "He's wrong this time. I promise you. He's wrong."

Ani gulped for breath and nodded against his chest, accepting this as he had accepted everything Anakin told him. "Just like you saved me when I was little."

"I will find a way, Ani," he promised, gently rocking the boy. "Whatever I have to do, I swear to you, I won't let her die."


	47. The Witness

"I am very grateful to be included here," Senator Chi Eekway said, her dewlaps jiggling as she tilted her blue head in a gesture around Padme's living room at the gathering of Senators. "I speak directly only for my own sector, of course, but I can tell you that many Senators are becoming very nervous indeed. You may not know that the new governors are arriving with full regiments of clone troops--what they call security forces. We all have begun to wonder if these regiments are intended to protect us from the Separatists... or to protect the governors from us."

Padme looked up from the data reader in her hand. "General Grievous has been located. My husband was sent to apprehend him yesterday. The war may be over in a matter of days."

"But what then?" Bail leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together. "How do we make Palpatine withdraw his governors? How do we stop him from garrisoning troops in all our systems?"

"We don't have to make him do anything," Padme said. She wasn't willing to entertain the notion that diplomacy had failed. Not yet. Not until every avenue had been exhausted. "The Senate granted him executive powers only for the duration of the emergency--"

"Yet it is only Palpatine himself who has the authority to declare when the emergency is over," Bail reminded her. "How do we make him surrender power back to the Senate?"

"There are many who are willing to do just that," Chi Eekway said. "Not just my own people. Many Senators. We are ready to make him surrender power."

Padme snapped the reader closed. She looked from Senator to Senator expressionlessly, her eyes traveling last to the faces of Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. Bail's gaze flicked almost imperceptibly toward Threepio, who was making rounds with a drink tray.

"Would anyone care for further refreshment?" Padme asked pleasantly.

"Senator Amidala," Eekway said, "I fear you don't understand--"

"Senator Eekway. Another hoi-broth?" this time Padme's tone was pointed.

"No, that's--"

"Very well, then," Padme cut her off. "Threepio, that will be all. Please tell Motee and Elle that they are dismissed for the day, then you are free to power down for a while."

"Thank you, Mistress," Threepio replied. "Though I must say, this discussion has been _most _stimu--"

"Threepio. That will be _all_," Padme interrupted again.

"Yes, Mistress. Of course. I quite understand," The droid said, then turned stiffly and shuffled out of the room.

As soon as he was safely out of earshot, Padme raised the reader in her hand. "This is a very dangerous step. We cannot let this turn into another war."

"That's the last thing any of us wants," Bail nodded reassuringly. "Alderaan has no armed forces; we don't even have a planetary defense system. A political solution is our only option."

_Officially,_ Padme thought. She didn't know exactly what he and Mon Mothma were orchestrating, and she was certain that they hadn't had time to actually gather a military opposition force. She was also well aware of the discussion that Bail and Obi Wan had had a few nights ago.

_There is a place for you and your family on Alderaan, Obi Wan. If you want it._

No, they wouldn't be naïve enough to base military operations there--but Alderaan's resources were already committed. Alderaan was part of--perhaps even the center of--something that could very quickly become another war. Padme knew without a doubt where her husband would stand in that conflict, and though she hated to admit it, she knew where she herself would stand.

Mon Mothma gently touched her hand. "We're hoping that a show of solidarity within the Senate might stop Palpatine from further subverting the Constitution. With the signatures of a full two thousand Senators--well--we still have less than we need to stop his supermajority from amending the Constitution any way he happens to want, but we can show him that opposition to his methods is growing. Perhaps that alone might persuade him to moderate his tactics."

Padme nodded slowly. They had already scheduled the audience with the Chancellor. This meeting was only meant to resolve any last concerns. Above all, it was essential that the Delegation of Two Thousand present a united face. She looked down at the petition in her hand, the last hope for reason and diplomacy, and she was very glad that her son was not here to witness the quiet desolation in her voice as she said, "I am still willing to present this to Palpatine. I only hope that it will be enough."

-----

Despite his promise, it took Anakin hours to be able to coax his nephew back to sleep. As such, Ani slept late, and they missed the morning meal. He knew better than take the boy home without having fed him properly--and "properly" as far as Padme was concerned, meant both breakfast and lunch. He also realized that he had neglected to bring along a change of clothes for the boy, and he didn't think that she would appreciate having her son returned to her unwashed and in the same rumpled clothing that he had slept in the night before. So, after showing him to the communal 'fresher up the hall and talking him into taking a sonic shower, Anakin gave him a borrowed set of temple robes and took him to Dex's.

He conveniently forgot that Padme had not been pleased with her son's last visit to the diner. Ani obligingly forgot to remind him. The meal passed largely without event, except for the typical happy greeting from Dex, who was quite pleased to hear that Obi Wan had been sent after Grievous. He declared that the war would be over in a matter of days, and Ani heartily agreed. Anakin made himself nod.

_I hope so,_ he thought to himself. _I hope it will be enough._

When they left the diner, Ani wanted to fly the speeder back to the temple. Since Obi Wan wasn't there to object, Anakin didn't see any reason why not. He set the boy on his lap--securely strapped in, of course--and after a few minutes of instruction, let him ease the vehicle off the ground. The last time they had done this, on the day of Palpatine's rescue, there had been far too many traffic restrictions to allow for any real fun. Now they made several circuits around the Senate Quarter, weaving through traffic the entire time. He was aware, of course, that if Padme found out about any of this, he would be skinned alive, but Anakin was never really out of control of the vehicle. As he had with the lightsaber the night before, he remained vigilantly aware of everything around them, every motion of Ani's hands, every turn the speeder made, even before it happened. They made it back completely unscathed, and his nephew's unabashed glee at the adventure was more than worth a potential tongue-lashing.

It turned out that he needn't have worried. Upon reaching his quarters, he discovered a message from Padme. Her last meeting of the day was likely to run long, she said, and would he mind keeping Ani? Of course he wouldn't _mind_, and Ani's innocent excitement over getting to stay at the temple longer than he'd anticipated _almost_ washed the cold dread from the pit of his stomach. Palpatine's last meeting of the day was supposed to have been with the dissenting Senators. That couldn't be where she was going--why she anticipated being late--could it?

He didn't know. He decided that he didn't _want_ to know. The Senate, the Council, Palpatine and all their politics could wait another day. All that Anakin Skywalker wanted now was to be with his nephew--the one person that he still _knew_ he could trust, who trusted _him--_more than that--who _believed_ in him. And so he did, until Master Windu summoned them.

-----

Standing with his uncle in the holocomm center of Jedi Command, a place deep in the heart of the temple--one of which he had heard but never thought he would actually see--Anakin Kenobi watched a life-sized hologram of Clone Commander Cody report that Obi Wan had made contact with General Grievous.

His small fist clenched in an unconscious gesture of victory. "Yes!" he hissed.

Anakin looked down at him and smiled. Master Windu raised an eyebrow, and the holographic projection of Yoda turned to look at him with both amusement and disapproval. Ani could sense the mingling of dread and hope from the men in the room, but he felt none of it. He knew only that Grievous was soon to be no more--and that with him gone, the war would end. His father would return and take them all home.

"_We are beginning our supporting attack as ordered. And--if I may say so, sirs--from my experience working with General Kenobi, I have a suspicion that Grievous does not have long to live," _Cody continued.

"Thank you, Commander," Mace replied.

His Uncle Anakin was about ready to explode with anticipation and worry, but the dour Master's expression betrayed no emotion at all, and Ani found it impossible to tell what the man was feeling. He knew better than to push--to go deeper into the Force to find out--so he contented himself with waiting and watching. Mace's eyes moved briefly to Yoda, then toward the holograms of the two other Masters in attendance, Ki-Adi-Mundi and Aayla Secura.

"Keep us apprised of your progress. May the Force be with you, and with General Kenobi," he added to Cody.

_"I'm sure it will be, sir. Cody out," _came the reply.

The transmission flickered and ended. Mace templed his fingers and looked slowly at Anakin. "Take this report to the Chancellor. Young Kenobi may stay here with me until you return."

"Of course, Master," Anakin nodded. He squeezed his nephew's shoulder and turned to go, hurrying toward the door.

"Anakin. Take careful note of his reaction. We will need a full account," Mace said, still utterly calm and unreadable.

"Master?" Anakin paused and half-turned to look at his teacher.

"What he says, Anakin. Who he calls. What he does. Everything. Even his facial expressions. It's very important," explained Mace. His tone softened slightly--very slightly--but it did soften.

"I don't understand," Anakin frowned. Except he did. With growing dread in his heart, Ani did as well. He closed his eyes, unable to watch the anguish play across his uncle's face.

"You don't have to. Just do it," Master Windu's voice hardened again.

"Master, please--"

"Anakin, do I have to remind you that you are still a Jedi? You are still subject to the orders of this Council," Mace cut him off.

"Yes, my Master. Yes, I am," Anakin said. Ani heard him turn again, heard the door open, and then swish closed behind him. He didn't breathe or open his eyes until his namesake was gone. Then he moved back quietly into the shadows, where the Jedi wouldn't see his tears, but even then he continued to listen.

_"Have you considered that if Palpatine refuses to surrender power, removing him is only a first step?" _Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

"I am not a politician. Removing a tyrant is enough for me," said Mace.

_"But it will not be enough for the Republic," _the Cerean Master countered sadly. "_Palpatine's dictatorship has been legitimized--and can be legalized, even enshrined in a revised Constitution—by the supermajority he controls in the Senate."_

_"Filled with corruption, the Senate is," _Yoda continued. _"Controlled, it must be, until replaced the corrupted Senators can be, with Senators honest and--"_

"Do you _hear_ us?" Mace Windu buried his face in his hands, and for a moment, Ani glimpsed the depth of this man's torment. "How have we come to this? Arresting a Chancellor. Taking over the Senate! It's as though Dooku was right--to save the Republic, we'll have to destroy it!"

Yoda's eyes narrowed, and though he could not feel it from so far away, Ani heard the great Master's own struggle in his voice. _"Hold on to hope we must; our true enemy, Palpatine is not, nor the Senate. The true enemy is instead the Sith Lord Sidious, who controls them both. Once destroyed Sidious is...all these other concerns, less dire they will instantly become."_

"Yes," Mace Windu said slowly. He rose and moved to the window. Impulsively, Ani pushed himself away from the wall and drifted over to stand beside him, watching the indigo gloom begin to gather among the towers outside. Mace folded his hands behind his back. "Yes, that is true. And we have put the Chosen One in play against the last Lord of the Sith. In that, we must place our faith, and our hopes for the future of the Republic."


	48. The Failure of Reason

"Chancellor, we have just received a report that Obi Wan has engaged General Grievous," Anakin said.

"We can only hope that General Kenobi is up to the challenge…" Palpatine trailed off with a rueful smile.

"I should be there with him," Anakin shook his head in disgust.

"It is upsetting to me to see that the Council doesn't seem to fully appreciate your talents. Don't you wonder why they won't make you a Jedi Master?" Palpatine frowned.

"I wish I knew. More and more I get the feeling that I am being excluded from the Council. I know there are things they are not telling me," Anakin admitted.

"They don't trust you, Anakin. They never have. Even your great friend Obi Wan has not told you what their true intentions are. It's because you're not like them. You're a man, not just a Jedi," Palpatine said.

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked, puzzled.

"Grievous is no longer the real enemy. Even the Clone Wars themselves are now only...a distraction," replied the Chancellor, not answering the question at all.

"What?" Anakin blinked.

"The Council is about to make its move," Palpatine, explained. "If we don't stop them, by this time tomorrow the Jedi may very well have taken over the Republic."

Anakin couldn't help it. He laughed. "But sir--please, you can't possibly believe that--"

"Anakin, I _know_. I will be the first to be arrested--the first to be executed--but I will be far from the last."

"Sir, I know that the Council and you have--disagreements, but--"attempted Anakin. The room began to press in around him. He felt hot and cold, dizzy. He drew in a breath, searching for focus.

"This is far beyond any personal dispute between me and the members of the Council. This is a plot generations in the making--a plot to take over the Republic itself," Palpatine interrupted.

"I don't--they wouldn't--"

"Ask yourself: why did they send you to me with this news? _Why_? Why not simply notify me through normal channels?"

_And take careful note of his reaction. We will need a full account_.

"Sir, I--uh--" stammered Anakin, his mind swimming. The room was growing darker now, and a heavy weight curled around him, squeezing. He struggled against it, blinking to clear his vision.

"No need to fumble for an explanation," Palpatine said gently. "You've already as much as admitted they've ordered you to spy upon me. Don't you understand that anything you tell them tonight--whatever it may be--will be used as an excuse to order my execution?"

"That's impossible! The Senate--the Senate would never allow it--" he shook his head vehemently.

"The Senate will be powerless to stop it. I told you. This is bigger than any personal dislike between the Council and myself. I am only one man. My authority is granted by the Senate; it is the Senate that is the true government of the Republic. Killing me is nothing; to control the Republic, the Jedi will have to take over the Senate first," Palpatine's voice was soft and grim.

"But the Jedi--the Jedi _serve_ the Senate!" Anakin exploded.

"Do they?" Palpatine asked mildly.

"This is all--I'm sorry, Chancellor, please, you have to understand how this sounds..."

"Here!" Palpatine rummaged around within his desk for a moment, then pulled a data reader from one of the drawers. "Do you know what this is?"

"No…" Anakin's voice trailed off in confusion.

"This _petition_ was brought to me this afternoon by the leaders of the conspiracy I told you about. Brought to me by Padme Amidala Kenobi," Palpatine said.

He shook his head. "You're lying!"

"No, Anakin, I'm not. I have never lied to you. Use your Jedi senses. You can still feel her echo here, can't you? She was standing right where you are now," Palpatine murmured.

Anakin's shoulders slumped. He couldn't deny it. Padme's presence was there, imprinted on the room as strongly as the familiar scent of her perfume would have been a few hours ago. "But--but, sir, please, surely, all they asked for is an end to the war. It's what the Jedi want, too. I mean, it's what we all want, isn't it? Isn't it?" he pleaded.

"Perhaps. Though how that end comes about may be the single most important thing about the war. More important, even, than who wins. Their... sincerity... is much to be admired. Or it would be, were it not that there was much more to that meeting than what it appeared to be," Palpatine said.

Anakin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Their...petition...was nothing of the sort. It was, in fact a not-so-veiled _threat_." Palpatine sighed regretfully. "It was a show of force. A demonstration of the political power the Jedi will be able to muster in support of their rebellion. There are now only two kinds of Senators in our government, Anakin. Those whose names are on this so-called petition and those whom the Jedi are about to arrest."

"But--but surely--surely Senator Kenobi can be trusted--" Anakin stammered, coming around the Chancellor's desk in an open show of entreaty.

"I understand how badly you need to believe that," he said. "But Senator Kenobi is hiding something. I know you sensed it."

"If she is--" Anakin broke off, grabbing the edge of the desk to keep himself from falling. The floor was moving--tilting under him like the deck of _Invisible Hand_, and he felt as though Palpatine's desk was the only thing that was going to keep him from sliding into oblivion. "Even if she is, it doesn't mean that what she is hiding is treason."

"I'm surprised your Jedi insights are not more sensitive to such things," Palpatine told him, seemingly oblivious to his struggle.

"I simply don't sense betrayal in Padme," Anakin insisted raggedly.

Palpatine leaned back in his chair and templed his fingers, giving him a long, skeptical look. "Yes, you do. Though you don't want to admit it. Perhaps it is because neither you nor she yet understands that by betraying me, she is also betraying _you_.''

"She couldn't--" Anakin pressed a hand to his forehead and swallowed; his dizziness was getting worse, and if he didn't sit down, he thought he might lose his lunch. He didn't know what was happening here--what was happening to him--but there was one thing he did know. "She could never..."

"Of course she could," Palpatine said reasonably. "That is the nature of politics, my boy. Don't take it too personally. It doesn't mean the two of you can't be happy together."

"What--?" he could barely see, barely breathe. All he could think of to say was, again, "What do you mean?"

"I know how you feel about her, Anakin. I know how much you love her son. And doesn't he love you just as much? You could be that boy's father, Anakin. You practically are already," Palpatine murmured.

"Obi Wan is my friend!" Anakin cried, anguished.

"A friend who has lied to you for years?" Palpatine arched an eyebrow. "Who abandoned you before your training was complete, and now intends to abandon you again? Let me ask you something else, my boy. Have you ever been able to be honest with your friend Obi Wan? Haven't you kept as many secrets from him as he has kept from you?"

"What are you _talking_ about?" demanded Anakin.

"She brought me something else," Palpatine went on in the same quiet tone, entirely unperturbed. The Chancellor reached into the desk again and produced a holodisk, which he held out to Anakin with profound sorrow in his eyes. "This is her husband's resignation from the Grand Army of the Republic."

"No," Anakin shook his head vehemently. "He wants this war to end more than anyone!"

"Yes. And he intends to end it. Then he intends to come back here and help his Jedi friends install a new government. Didn't I warn you, son? Didn't I tell you what Obi Wan was up to? Why do you think he was meeting with the leaders of this...delegation...behind your _back?"_ questioned Palpatine.

Anakin discovered that he had no answer. Swirling darkness clouded everything now. It wasn't just in the room--it wasn't--it was in him. It always had been, and now it surged up from his heart in a relentless wave. Sweat broke out on his palms, trickled down the back of his neck, dripping between his shoulderblades. His breath began to come in ragged bursts.

"It's not true!" he insisted.

"Please sit, my boy. You're looking rather unwell. May I offer you something to drink?" Palpatine asked. His voice was coming from miles away. Anakin hardly heard it.

"I--no. No, I'm all right," Anakin drew a breath and fought to pull himself erect. "I'm just—a little tired, that's all."

"Not sleeping well?"

"No," Anakin's laugh was bitter, desperate. "I haven't been sleeping well for a few years now."

"I quite understand, my boy. Quite," Palpatine assured him. "Anakin, we must stop pretending. The final crisis is approaching, and our only hope to survive it is to be completely, absolutely, ruthlessly honest with each other. Do you think they won't kill you, too? They know your power will be too strong to control. But this is bigger than that, too. You must understand that what is at stake here is nothing less than the fate of the galaxy."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Anakin plunged a hand through his hair and grit his teeth.

"Don't be afraid. What is said between us here need never pass beyond these walls. Anakin, think. Think how hard it has been to hold all your secrets inside. Have you ever needed to keep a secret from me? I know that you are in love with your best friend's wife. I have watched you stand beside him--beside both of them--all these years, never asking for a thing in return. And it wasn't Obi Wan you told about the slaughter at the Tusken camp. It was me. A few days ago, I was there when you executed Count Dooku--"

"I didn't execute anyone!" Anakin barked.

"But you wanted to, didn't you? When you threw the lightsaber and watched his head roll onto the floor, you weren't horrified. You were glad. Glad that you had killed him, that you had gotten your revenge. I know. And I know where you got the power to defeat him. You see? You have never needed to pretend with me, the way you must with your Jedi comrades. Do you understand that you need never hide _anything _from me? That I accept you exactly as you are?" He spread his hands in a gesture of welcome. It seemed to Anakin that he was offering a hug. "Share with me the truth. Your absolute truth. Let yourself out. How often have you dreamt of not having to pretend--pretending to be the perfect Jedi--the Chosen One--everyone's savior?"

"I--" Anakin shook his head. "I wouldn't even know how to begin."

"It's quite simple, in the end. Tell me what you want," Palpatine replied.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Of course you don't. You've been trained to never think about that. The Jedi never ask what you want. They simply tell you what you're _supposed_ to want. They never give you a choice at all. That's why they take their students-- their victims--at an age so young that choice is meaningless. By the time a Padawan is old enough to choose, he has been so indoctrinated--so brainwashed--that he is incapable of even considering the question. But you're different, Anakin. You had a real life, outside the Jedi Temple. You can break through the fog of lies the Jedi have pumped into your brain. Let me help you to know the real subtleties of the Force. "

"How do you know the ways of the Force?" Anakin asked as a sharp, sickening realization began to twist through his gut.

"My mentor taught me everything about the Force," Palpatine told him quite candidly. "Even the nature of the Dark Side."


	49. Betrayal

Padme didn't worry when she arrived home to an empty apartment. After all, she had asked Anakin to keep her son with him. She did, however, begin to worry when more than hour passed with no sign of them. Dinner sat waiting on the table, but there were neither hungry boys to eat it nor any word as to where they might be.

She called the temple, and her transmission was answered by a Padawan she didn't recognize--a boy who could not have been more than twelve. He told her politely that her son was in the command center with Master Windu.

"Oh, dear," said Threepio beside her.

Artoo, whom Anakin had left to "keep her company" yesterday, gave a worried tootle of agreement.

"What is he doing down there?" she asked.

"I don't know, m'lady," the boy replied honestly. "Master Windu called for Anakin earlier, and he took your son down with him. Then he left again."

"Left?" Padme's eyes widened in alarm. "To go where?"

"I don't know," the boy shrugged apologetically.

Icy fear began to close around Padme's heart. She didn't need him to tell her. Something was happening on Utapau. Something was _wrong._ She had been feeling it for hours, although until now it had been only a vague foreboding, a sense of impending danger.

"Can you put me through to Master Windu?" she asked.

"I'll try, m'lady," the Padawan dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"Thank you," Padme nodded.

The view screen in front of her went fuzzy with blue and white static, and she waited in tense silence for several minutes before it cleared into an image of Jedi Command. Master Windu stood there, alone except for her son, as indomitable as ever to Padme's eyes. She frowned at the sight of Ani wearing Jedi robes, then realized--Anakin would have had nothing to change him into this morning. What else would he be wearing?

"Mom, guess what?" he said before the Jedi had finished opening his mouth. Mace gave him a startled look and then lapsed into ponderous silence, watching the exchange.

Ani's childish excitement eased Padme's worry and she let the frown fade into a tender smile. "What?"

"Dad found General Grievous! They're fighting right now on Utapau!" he grinned.

Padme firmly kept her smile in place. "Well, that's good news. Where is your Uncle Anakin?"

Ani lowered his eyes briefly. "He went to tell Palpatine. He's _s'posed_ to come back soon and tell us what Palpatine said."

"I see," Padme said carefully.

"I'm sure that Anakin will return very shortly, m'lady," Mace spoke up.

"And then he'll have a report to give?" Padme's tone hardened ever so slightly.

The Jedi inclined his head.

"It is late, Master Windu," she said, keeping her tone respectful but subtly allowing the warmth to seep away. "My son should be in bed soon."

"Aww, Mom…" Ani protested.

"We are short-staffed here at the moment," Mace replied, showing no reaction to the boy's outburst. "I had planned to allow Anakin to bring your son home when he had finished his report, but if you would prefer not to wait that long, I can have one of the older students bring him now."

"No…!" pleaded Ani. "Please, Master Windu, I have to stay 'til we hear about my dad!"

"Your father trusts in the Force, young Kenobi. So should you," Mace replied. Then he looked back at Padme. "M'lady?"

"It's quite all right, Master Windu. If you are short-staffed, I'll come for him myself," Padme said equitably.

"But Mother! You don't understand. I _hafta_ be here. Uncle Anakin has to bring me home!" Ani insisted. His tone changed. It lost the little boy's petulance, becoming at once quietly determined and faintly ominous. His mother frowned. She felt again that something was wrong. Something was very wrong. She could also feel an undercurrent of fear in her son that hadn't been there a moment before.

_You don't understand_ was an argument that Padme simply never allowed, and her son knew it. He had been taught by both parents, but especially by Padme, that this was a strong-arm tactic. If there was something she didn't understand, his job was to explain it. Yet he didn't--perhaps because he couldn't…?

Windu frowned in response to the boy's statement. "Why, Anakin?"

"Dunno, Master Windu. He just does. I promised Dad…" Ani trailed off, frowning deeply as he considered how to explain.

Watching him struggle for words, Padme bit her lip. Windu closed his eyes, and she wasn't sure whether he was searching for an answer or waiting for one. She did understand enough of the Jedi mindset after five years of marriage to Obi Wan to know that the Master wouldn't speak until she did. Even then, he might offer an opinion--and she had a strong feeling that she knew exactly what that opinion would be--but the decision would be hers.

"All right," she said quietly. "But, please, Mace. As soon as Anakin returns, send them to me."

-----

"_You_," Anakin's voice was cold. There was no conscious decision, no moment when he called the lightsaber from his belt. It was simply there, in his hand, and the blue blade flowed elegantly to life, ending just beyond the Sith Lord's throat. "It's you. It's been you all along!"

"Anakin, if one is to understand the great mystery, one must study all its aspects, not just the dogmatic, narrow view of the Jedi. If you wish to become a complete and wise leader, you must embrace a larger view of the Force. Be careful of the Jedi. They fear you. In time they will destroy you. Let me train you," Darth Sidious offered.

"I won't be a pawn in your political game. The Jedi are my family," Anakin said.

"Your mother was your family, Anakin. She's dead now. You failed her because the Jedi wouldn't let you go to her in time. You knew it was wrong then, and you still do now. Listen to me. Don't continue to be a pawn of the Jedi Council! Ever since I've known you, you've been searching for a life greater than that of an ordinary Jedi … a life of significance, of conscience. _Commit_ to that life. I know you burn for greater power than any Jedi can wield. Give yourself permission to gain that power, and allow yourself license to use it. You have dreamt of leaving the Jedi Order, I know you have. You have dreamt of making Padme's family your own," Sidious said.

"Obi Wan is my friend!" Anakin repeated, but the blade began to waver.

"He doesn't love you. He never has. He has lied to you, time and again. He cares only for the orders of the Jedi council. He can't save Padme, either. He's going to let her die. Will you?"

"Never!" Anakin swore.

"Do you remember that myth I told you of, _The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?" _the Sith asked

It took a moment for Anakin's befuddled mind to even comprehend the words. The myth--Palpatine had told him about it at the opera house--_directly influence the midi-chlorians to create life; with such knowledge, to maintain life in someone already living would seem a small matter..._

"Yes," he said hoarsely. "Yes, I remember."

"It's no mere myth, my boy," smiled Sidious.

Anakin swallowed.

"Darth Plagueis was real," Sidious assured him.

Anakin barely force a strangled whisper past his lips_. "Real... ?"_

"Darth Plagueis was my Master. He taught me the key to his power," Sidious said with casual disdain. "Before I killed him. Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Learn to know the Dark Side of the Force, Anakin, and you will be able to save Padme from certain death. Who will she love then?"

"Obi Wan…is my friend," Anakin said for third time. The last time. The words were a talisman against the darkness of his own secret desires, and the power of that talisman was fading.

"You can have every one of your dreams. Turn aside from the lies of the Jedi, and follow the truth of yourself. Leave them. Join me on the path of true power. Be _my_ friend, Anakin. Be my student. My apprentice," Sidious offered calmly.

"NO!" with the surge of anger came clarity, pushing back the haze around him, steadying the trembling in his hand.

"Are you going to kill me?" Sidious asked, though he seemed to be more intrigued than concerned.

"I would certainly like to," replied Anakin through clenched teeth.

"I know you would. I can feel your anger. It gives you focus, makes you stronger. But what, exactly, are you going to kill me for, my boy?" Sidious inquired.

"You're a _Sith Lord_!" Anakin roared.

"I am," Sidious agreed. "I am also your friend."

The blue blade wavered again, just a bit.

"I am the man who has always been here for you. I am the man you have never needed to lie to. I am the man who wants nothing from you but that you follow your conscience. If that conscience requires you to commit murder, simply over a... philosophical difference...I will not resist. When I told you that you can have anything you want, did you think I was excluding my life?" asked Sidious gently.

Anakin felt tears burn his eyes and his vision began to swim. The floor beneath his feet seemed to soften, sucking him down like quicksand, and his anger melted, leaving only confusion, pain. "You--you won't even fight--?"

"Fight you?" the Sith looked up at him, aghast. But what will happen when you kill me? What will happen to the Republic?" His tone was gently reasonable. "What will happen to Padme?"

_"Padme..."  
_

"When I die, my knowledge dies with me. Unless, that is, I have the opportunity to teach it...to my apprentice..." Sidious let the statement trail off, continuing to watch him.

Anakin's vision swam.

"I..." the whisper came, raw with pain and despair, bleeding, suffering. _"I don't know what to do..."_

"Anakin," Sidious said kindly, "Why are you so angry with me? What have I done to you?"

"You've been lying to me my whole life!" Anakin almost screamed.

The Sith Lord's voice remained steady and calm--kind--the same voice he had known since coming to Coruscant at the age of nine. "What else was I to do? Corruption had made the Republic a cancer in the body of the galaxy, and no one could burn it out; not the judicials, not the Senate, not even the Jedi Order itself. I was the only man strong and skilled enough for this task. I was the only man who dared even attempt it. Without my small deception, how should I have cured the Republic? Had I revealed myself to you, or to anyone else, the Jedi would have hunted me down and murdered me without trial--very much as you nearly did, only a moment ago. And after all, Anakin, you are the last person who truly should be angry with someone for keeping a secret."

He couldn't muster an objection. There wasn't one, really. Not with this man, who knew every secret he had. He stood there, numb, and forced himself to continue holding the lightsaber at his friend's throat. The Sith continued.

"If only you could know how I have longed to tell you. All these years--since the very day we met. I have watched over you, waiting as you grew in strength and wisdom, biding my time until now, today, when you are finally ready to understand who you truly are--to understand your true place in galactic history."

"The Chosen One," Anakin mumbled.

"Exactly, my boy. Exactly. You are the Chosen One. Chosen by me," Sidious replied, with a careful gesture toward the window behind his desk. "Look out there, Anakin. A trillion beings on this planet alone--in the galaxy as a whole, uncounted quadrillions--and of them all, I have chosen you, Anakin Skywalker, to be the heir to my power. To all that I am."

"But that's not... that's not the prophecy. That's not the prophecy of the Chosen One," Anakin stammered.

"Is this such a problem for you? Is not your quest to find a way to cancel fate--to save Padme?"

"I--" Anakin's hand trembled. The lightsaber he was holding somehow clicked off.

"Do you think the Sith did not know the Prophecy of the Chosen One? Do you think we would simply sleep while it came to pass?" Sidious laughed softly.

"You mean--" he broke off, still confused.

"This is what you must understand. This Jedi submission to fate... this is not the way of the Sith, Anakin. It is not my way. It's not your way. It has never been. It need never be," Sidious promised.

"I am not on your side," Anakin told him. "I am not _evil."_

Who said anything about evil? I am bringing peace to the galaxy. Is that evil? I am offering you the power to save Padme. Is that evil? Have I attacked you? Drugged you? Are you being tortured? My boy, I am _asking_ you. I am asking you to do the right thing. Turn your back on treason. On all those who would harm the Republic. I'm asking you to do exactly what you have sworn to do: bring peace and justice to the galaxy. And save Padme, of course--haven't you sworn to protect her, too...?"

The question struck at Anakin like the Tusken whip that had once lashed his mother's back. He inhaled sharply and squared his shoulders. "I am going to turn you over to the Jedi Council."

"Of course you should. But you're not sure of their intentions, are you? What if I am right and they are plotting to take over the Republic? Let me ask you one more question. When they come to execute me, will that be justice? Will they be bringing _peace_?"

"They won't--they wouldn't--!" insisted Anakin, backing toward the door.

"Well, of course I hope you're correct, Anakin. You'll forgive me if I don't share your blind loyalty to your comrades. I suppose it does indeed come down, in the end, to a question of loyalty," Sidious said thoughtfully. "That's what you must ask yourself, my boy. Whether your loyalty is to the Jedi, or to the Republic."

"It's not--it's not like that!" Anakin kept going.

Sidious replied with a gentle shrug. "Perhaps not. Perhaps it's simply a question of whether you love Obi Wan more than you love his wife."

_"I will find a way, Ani_," Anakin's own words echoed through his mind. "_Whatever I have to do, I swear to you, I won't let her die."_

He turned and left without another word.

…_I swear to you…_

_…I love you, Uncle Anakin…_

_…I won't let her die…_


	50. A Desperate Hour

The transmission from Padme ended, and Mace Windu went back to his chair. He leaned into it and pressed a finger to his lips, thoughtful and silent. Ani didn't mind. He had his own thoughts to occupy him. He wandered back to the window and stood looking out at the sunset. He had seen many sunsets on Coruscant, but somehow this one seemed different. It seemed darker in a way he couldn't explain--a way that went beyond the physical. Darkness pulsed through Coruscant, choking the throng of life.

He felt fear, but that fear was not for himself. Oddly, it was not for his father, though he knew that Obi Wan was at this very moment engaged in a duel with General Grievous. His father wouldn't die on Utapau. He wouldn't die at the hands of a mechanical monster. He closed his eyes, reaching inward, searching. Yoda's quiet statement echoed deep within him.

_Named, your fear must be before it can be banished._

_The Dark Man is coming,_ he thought, and as tears began to slip down his cheeks, he saw the face of the killer who had haunted his dreams.

"Not yet, Ani," Qui-Gon's voice beside him was softly reassuring. "There is still another way."

He was still watching the darkness when Commander Cody sent word that Grievous was dead. The war would be over. Yet he felt no elation. Master Windu put in a call to Yoda on Kashyyyk, and he wandered back over, sitting quietly on the floor to listen.

"Minutes ago, we received confirmation from Utapau: Kenobi was successful. Grievous is dead," Mace reported.

_"Time it is to execute our plan,"_ decided Yoda.

"I will personally deliver the news of Grievous's death," Mace agreed. "It will be up to the Chancellor to cede his emergency powers back over to the Senate."

_"Forget not the existence of Sidious. Anticipate your action, he may. Masters will be necessary, if the Lord of the Sith you must face,"_ Yoda warned

"I have chosen four of our best. Master Tiin, Master Kolar, and Master Fisto are all here in the Temple. They are prepared to go as soon as Skywalker returns with his report." Mace informed him.

_"Take him, will you? With you on this night, perhaps the Chosen One should be," _Yoda suggested.

"Too much of a risk," Mace replied. "I am the fourth."

Ani cringed at the statement. So, Master Windu knew, as well. He held his breath, hoping that Yoda might disagree. If Yoda still believed that Anakin was strong enough, it had to be all right. Slowly, though, Yoda pursed his lips, and gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

Then he said, _"On watch you have been too long, my Padawan. Rest you must._"

Blinking, Ani thought for a moment that the Master was talking to him. Then he realized that Yoda must have had the same relationship with Master Windu that he had with Obi Wan. His eyebrows rose in surprise at this idea--_Mace Windu_ as someone's Padawan. Somehow it seemed even stranger to him than the concept of his father as a Padawan learner. After all, his parents had met when Obi Wan was still Qui-Gon's apprentice. Windu had always seemed to be something eternal and constant--unchanging, like the Jedi Temple which had stood here for thousands of years.

"I will, Master. When the Republic is safe once more," Mace promised, straightening in his chair. "We are waiting only for your vote."

_"Very well, then. Have my vote, you do. May the Force be with you," _Yoda murmured.

"And with you, Master," replied Mace as the hologram faded, leaving emptiness and silence behind it.

And waiting.

The young boy and the Jedi Master waited there until the door cracked open, but Ani was already on his feet by the time his uncle staggered in. Mace pushed himself out of his chair, and they reached Anakin at the same time, Ani looking on worriedly while Mace gripped the Knight by the shoulders.

"Master…?" Anakin's voice was hoarse and choked. His head hung down, but Ani didn't think he was even seeing the floor. Tentatively, he reached for his uncle's hand and found it shaking. Fear rolled off the Jedi Knight in waves, crashing against the boy. Reflexively, he reached into the Force in search of comfort, but even there, all he felt was turmoil. Without meaning to, he took a step back.

_Mother…_

Mace Windu's voice was steady. "What's wrong? Anakin, are you hurt?"

"Obi Wan," he pleaded faintly, "I need to talk to _Obi Wan_--"

"Obi Wan is operational on Utapau. He has destroyed General Grievous. We were waiting for your report before we went to the Chancellor ourselves to be sure that he steps down as he has promised--"

"Steps--steps down--" Anakin bitterly spit the words. "You have no idea..."

"Anakin, _what's wrong?"_ Mace asked again, urgently this time.

"Listen to me--you have to listen to me--" Anakin slumped against his Master's chest. Mace wrapped his arms around the Knight and guided him to slowly and carefully toward the nearest chair. "You can't--please, Master, give me your word, promise me it'll be an _arrest_, promise you're not going to hurt him--"

Mace said nothing until his former Padawan was safely in the chair. Anakin sagged forward, burying his face in his hands. Worriedly, Ani crept toward them again, halting beside the chair. Mace knelt on the other side of it, and Ani bit his lip.

"Anakin. You must try to answer. Have you been attacked? Are you injured? You have to tell me what's wrong!" Windu commanded, and it was the concern in his voice which finally spurred Anakin Kenobi to action. Surrendering his own fear, he reached out and gripped his uncle's shoulder.

The Knight jerked back as though the contact burned him. As his head came up, Ani gasped, but he did not let go. Anakin's eyes were raw and red, and his face looked swollen. He was pasty white, and Ani could still feel him trembling. He felt Mace reach into the Force, cautiously, as though one misstep could cause an avalanche--one that could kill not only them but everything around them, everything they were struggling so hard to protect. He held his breath, hoping that the Master would find an answer in the current of the Force--some antidote for the terrible fear he felt in his uncle. That fear was like nothing he had ever experienced--nothing he had even imagined. It was a living thing-- a squealing, screeching, squelching monster that was feeding on Anakin Skywalker. Its name, Anakin Kenobi heard whispered through the rustling of its slithering journey through the Jedi's mind, was _Padme_.

"Master," Anakin fought to utter the word, as if in the very act of doing so, he was committing her execution. "Palpatine--Palpatine is the Sith Lord we've been looking for."

Mace Windu closed his eyes.

Ani frowned, looking from his uncle to the Master still kneeling beside the chair. "It's the Sith doing this to him, isn't it, Master?"

Windu's eyes opened, and he gave a sharp nod. Rising, he said, "He's in no condition to take you anywhere now, Anakin. The Jedi must act quickly if the Republic is to survive. Stay with him until I return."

"Yes, Master," the boy bowed his head.

"Wha--What? Master, you'll need my help--" attempted Anakin.

"No," Mace said firmly. "For your own good, my Padawan, stay out of this affair. Wait with the boy in the Council Chamber until we get back."

"But--but--but the Chancellor--" Anakin cried desperately, clutching at the Master's hand. "What are you going to do?"

"Only as much as I have to," said Mace. "Neither of you are to leave the temple."

He pulled his hand free and spun, striding from the room. Anakin stared blankly after him, completely unresponsive to the soothing motions of his nephew's hand on his shoulder. "I have to go with him…"

"Uncle," Ani slipped his hand down to cover the Knight's. "Stay with me."

------

_Mother…_

Padme Amidala Kenobi was waiting. For her husband, who was fighting for his life on Utapau. For her son, who was keeping his own vigil at the Jedi Temple. She raised her head at the sound of his voice. She heard it as clearly as if he had been in the room with her. Yet it wasn't a sound at all. A feeling--more a than mother's intuition.

She pushed herself off the couch and moved toward the window behind it. From there, she could see the Jedi Temple in the glow of the setting sun. And she could feel his fear.

"Ani?" she cried aloud. Then again, in her mind, _Ani!_

There was no answer. No answer except fear as palpable as the force that choked her in her dreams.

She spun, calling over her shoulder for Threepio and Artoo, but as she did, a sharp pain stabbed through her abdomen. Gasping, Padme staggered forward, her hands outstretched to clutch the back of the couch.

Artoo shrilled in alarm.

"Mistress--Oh, Mistress Padme!" exclaimed Threepio.

She straightened quickly. "I'm all right, thank you, Threepio. Thank you, Artoo."

Threepio was already moving to take her arm. "Please, Mistress Padme, sit down," he said, escorting her back to the couch. Artoo rolled up beside her, and her hand drifted unconsciously to the top of the little astromech's domed head.

"I can't. I have to get Ani from the temple. Things are happening tonight--he shouldn't be there," she shook her head.

"Oh, no, I beg of you, m'lady!" pleaded Threepio. "You must stay here and rest. Think of your health--think of…the twins…"

"Little Anakin is my son, too, Threepio. I have to go to him!" insisted Padme.

"There must be someone else who can go. Senator Organa, perhaps…?"

-----

Anakin sat in a chair in the Council Chamber, cradling his nephew in his lap. His breathing had started to slow now, and the shaking had stopped. He thought--he thought--if he could just stay here this way, holding the boy, he might be able to quiet his mind enough. He might be able to stop hearing her scream.

He wasn't entirely sure how they had gotten up here. He wasn't sure of anything beyond the innocent warmth of the child in his arms. Ani's head rested against his shoulder, much as it had rested the night before. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping.

How could he be so calm? Didn't he hear it? Didn't he _feel_ it?

He stirred, and his hand moved comfortingly against Anakin's cheek. "Don't center on your fears," he murmured.

"There's nothing else left," he heard himself say bitterly. He laughed--a short, desperate, hysterical sound.

"I love you," the boy replied.

Anakin closed his eyes. He inhaled slowly and deeply, beginning to feel clarity return to him. The nightmare was fading. Ani nestled deeper against him, drawing comfort from him in a way that he couldn't even fathom. How could the boy feel anything for him now--anything but contempt? He had all but condemned Padme to death. How could her son find anything to love? Yet somewhere through his fear and self-loathing, Anakin Skywalker could sense that love--constant and unchanging as it had always been.

_You do know, don't you, if the Jedi destroy me, any chance of saving her will be lost. _

He stiffened. Ani jerked up as well, and Anakin set the boy on his feet, pulling himself up out of the chair. He staggered toward the window, staring out toward 500 Republica and Padme's apartment. He heard his nephew run up beside him, felt the boy's hand slip into his.

"You don't need anymore power, Uncle Anakin. You can save her from anything, all by yourself," Ani said.

Except what if he couldn't? Desolate tears began to slip down Anakin Skywalker's cheeks.

"You saved me," Ani said plaintively.

"I can't take that chance. I can't let her die, Ani. You know I can't," he said.

"Master Windu told us both to stay here!" his nephew cried.

"I know," Anakin sighed. He knelt, running his hand over the boy's hair.

"Please stay with me, Uncle Anakin. I'm scared…" Ani told him tearfully.

He smiled. "Many things may change before this night is over, Ani. My caring for you will not be one of them."

…_The Dark Man is coming…_

_Not yet. There is still another way._

_The Chosen One must find balance within himself before he can bring it to the Force. His path to that balance is not yet determined._

_…The Dark Man is Coming…_


	51. The Hero Without Fear

_The chapter title is our personal tribute to Mace and not a direct reference to Anakin. _

-----

Anakin stood paralyzed by fear in the center of Palpatine's office. Around him, Saesee Tiin, Agen Kolar, and Kit Fisto already lay dead. They didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to Anakin Skywalker at that moment was his Master. Mace Windu was deep in his own darkness, channeling it to the furious, lightning fast strikes of Vaapad. More than that--he was somehow absorbing the darkness of the being he battled, a murderous, raging, fount of dark power. Mace wasn't fending that power off, he was taking it in--and then reflecting it back at Palpatine--_turning darkness into a weapon of light_. This was the secret of Vaapad. This was what made Vaapad so dangerous, not only for its opponents but for those who used it. Mace Windu was its only living Master, and he wielded Vaapad victoriously time and again because he had no fear of his own darkness. He had taught Anakin that it was _fear _which gave the darkness its power. He also had no fear of death. His only fear was the end of the Republic--and he was willing to save the Republic now at any cost.

Even the cost of his own life.

Even the cost of _Palpatine's_ life.

Mace Windu may have had no fear of death, but Anakin Skywalker did. He _needed _Palpatine alive. Palpatine was his only chance at saving Padme. Yet he stood--frozen--unable to act as the amethyst blade of his Master's lightsaber cut toward the Sith and Palpatine's blood-red one fell.

"For all your power, you are no Jedi. All you are, my lord," Mace told him as he stared past his blade, "is under arrest."

"Do you see, Anakin? Do you?" Palpatine's voice was a frightened gasp. "Didn't I warn you of the Jedi and their treason?"

"Save your twisted words, my lord. There are no politicians here. The Sith will never regain control of the Republic. It's over. You've lost. You lost for the same reason the Sith always lose: defeated by your own fear."

"Fool," Palpatine spat. "Do you think the fear you feel is _mine_?"

Lightning surged from the Sith Lord's hands, and Mace angled his blade to shield himself from it. Palpatine screamed and snarled in pain as the lighting streaked back toward him, but his attack didn't lessen. In fact, the pain fed his anger--and his anger gave him strength--but it was not a strength that could dissuade Mace Windu, who edged closer, pushing him back even as Palpatine continued to lance him with crackling streams of pure hatred given form.

"Anakin!" Mace called. "Anakin, help me! This is your chance!"

"Anakin, I told you it would come to this!" cried Palpatine. This was never an arrest. It's an _assassination_! He is a traitor!"

"_He_ is the traitor! Stop him!" Mace ordered.

"Come to your senses, boy. The Jedi are in revolt. They will betray you, just as they betrayed me. You are not one of them, Anakin. Don't let him kill me. I am your pathway to power. I have the power to save the one you love," Palpatine's words battered at Anakin's mind, shattering his senses, enflaming his fear.

His Master gave an inarticulate roar of pain and effort, pushing the Sith Lord through the window and out onto the ledge. A ledge from which there was a half-kilometer drop. Certain death, even for a Force adept.

"You must choose. You must stop him!" called Palpatine.

"Don't listen to him, Anakin!" Mace warned. He pushed further, and the Sith's lightning began to arch back on him. His eyes grew yellow, glowing like hot embers as he drew on his rage, drew on the Dark Side to intensify his power. His face contorted, twisted by his own power as the lightning scored his flesh and melted muscle and bone underneath.

He screamed. "Help me! Don't let him kill me. I can't hold on any longer. Ahhhhhhh --ahhhhhhh --ahhhhhhh--"

"Don't kill him, Master," Anakin pleaded, finally finding words. He edged closer, coming up behind Mace's shoulder.

"I can't...I give up. Help me. I am weak…I am too weak. Don't kill me. I give up. I'm dying. I can't hold on any longer…"

"You Sith _disease_. I know exactly what you're doing. I am going to end this once and for all--"

"Wait--" Anakin grabbed Mace's lightsaber arm with a strength born of desperation. "Don't kill him--you can't just kill him, Master--"

"Yes, I can," Mace told him with grim certainty. "I have to."

"You came to _arrest_ him. He has to stand trial--"

"A trial would be a joke. He controls the courts. He controls the Senate--"

"So are you going to kill all _them_, too? Like he _said_ you would?" demanded Anakin.

Mace yanked his arm free. "He's too dangerous to be left alive. If you could have taken Dooku alive, would you have?"

Anakin sucked in a breath, cringing as if the purple blade had somehow pierced his chest. _No. "_That was _different--"_

"You can explain the difference when he's dead!" Mace declared.

"It's not the Jedi Way!" cried Anakin.

Mace raised his arm for the kill.

"He must live! I need him to save _Padme!"_ as there had been no decision in Palatine's office, there was no decision now. His lightsaber was simply there. In his hand. Moving in a crackling blue arc that sheered off his teacher's hand and sent his lightsaber tumbling into the night below.

Palpatine leapt to his feet, his hands alive with hate--with death. The lightning struck Mace Windu with no buffer--nothing to absorb or deflect it--and in that moment, Anakin Skywalker knew only horror. He watched his Master fall. He fell to his own knees.

"What have I done?"

Palpatine's hand came to rest gently, kindly on his shoulder. "You're following your destiny, Anakin," said a familiar gentle voice. "The Jedi are traitors. You saved the Republic from their treachery. You must learn to cast off the petty restraints that the Jedi have tried to place upon your power. Anakin, it's time. I need you to help me restore order to the galaxy. Join me. Pledge yourself to the Sith. Become my apprentice."

_There's nothing else left._

Anakin Skywalker planted one foot on the ground. Then he pushed himself to his feet. The room wavered around him, the floor tilting under him again. He shook off Palpatine's hand. Anger roiled in his gut, burning off the fog--the confusion--the fear. Because the Jedi may have been traitors, but so was Palpatine. Not a traitor to the Republic. The Republic mattered little to him. Palpatine was a traitor to _him._ He raised the blade in his hand.

"No."

The yellow eyes of the predator stared back at him in disbelief. "No?"

"I need you alive. That doesn't mean I intend to let you rule the galaxy," he said.

Palpatine cackled. "So be it."

The Sith Lord raised his hands. Lightning burst from his fingertips again, but when it struck, Anakin was no longer there. He dropped, swinging his weapon in a wide arc. Palpatine's lightsaber snapped off the ledge and lit as it spun into his hand. The two blades clashed, and the battle resumed.

Anakin's fury fueled each thrust, each parry, but his attacks met with fluid, smooth counterattack. The cackling continued, mocking, baiting him as they slashed and whirled and flipped through the room. They smashed each other with chairs--with lamps--with the _desk. And he kept cackling! _Anakin reached out--drawing more power into himself--drawing pn the darkness in the room--feeding it with the darkness in himself--and he _slammed_ the cackling monster that was Lord Sidious into the wall with enough power to leave a man-shaped hole. His eyes blazed with hate--his whole body _erupted_ with hate--and he closed the fist of his mechanical hand.

The cackling stopped.

_Why should I help you now, Anakin?_ Sidious asked in his head. Aloud, he was gagging. Dying. Gasping for breath. _Why should I help you save Padme?_

He froze. And in that moment of indecision--that split second of hesitation--the Sith Lord struck out. There was no time to prepare himself. Instinctively, he brought his lightsaber up, but fear had dissipated the anger that empowered him, and he didn't know enough to be able to gather it again. His mind was too embroiled in chaos to call on the Jedi teachings of Obi Wan Kenobi and Mace Windu. He screamed in pain as the Force lightning blasted through his body, flinging him backward. It was pain and more than pain--cold that numbed and sapped his strength, darkness that crackled and oozed through his flesh, meeting the darkness within, calling to it. He lay there, some part of his mind examining the phenomenon with a strangely detached curiosity.

He felt himself pulled up again, felt his body handled like an oversized puppet. He realized that he was on his knees. His felt the hot point of Palpatine's lightsaber bare centimeters from his throat, and then he understood. Sidious had never been out of control. Everything--the entire battle--had been as calculated as the Clone Wars, because although Anakin's raw power surpassed the Sith Lord's, Palpatine's skill in the Force was beyond anything that any living Jedi had faced.

"Who will save Padme now, Anakin?" he mused lightly.

Anakin began to shake. The floor seemed to be sucking him down again, and the same terrible weight that he had felt in this room a few hours ago pressed against his body, slowly, steadily crushing him.

_You don't need any more power, Uncle Anakin. You can save her from anything, all by yourself._

"Who will save her when you are dead?" asked Palpatine, gently mocking. "I know! Perhaps her son…"

"No!" Anakin tried valiantly to force himself to his feet again, but Palpatine held him immobile.

"Oh, but she'll be dead by the time he's old enough, won't she?" said Palpatine in a tone of sudden realization. Then he became thoughtful. "Well, I will need a new apprentice, won't I? He'll be far less troublesome, I think. I'll be able to start so much younger."

_I love you._

"I'll do whatever you ask," Anakin promised.

"Good," Lord Sidious sneered down at him, and the lightsaber clicked off.

Another man might have chosen that moment to act--to make one final, desperate, self-sacrificing bid for victory--but Anakin's fear held him tighter than Palpatine's Force grip. It whispered, _What if I fail? Who will save her? Who will save _them?

"Good," the Sith Lord said again.

In the darkness of Anakin Skywalker's mind, covered by boiling hatred and buried in self-contempt, another strategy began to form. It was a plan which he knew that Sidious would never see--would never expect. He couldn't, because a man who turned off his lightsaber with his opponent still alive was a trusting fool.

"Just promise me you'll leave Ani alone," he said.

Sidious gave a negligent shrug. "Perhaps he is too much of a Jedi already. After all, his father _has_ been brainwashing him since the day he was born. Maybe even before that. He can die with the rest of them."

"No! You can't!" roared Anakin.

"Oh, no, my boy. But you can," Sidious actually smiled. "Do you think that killing one traitor will end treason? Do you think the Jedi will ever stop until I am dead? Every single Jedi, including your friend Obi Wan Kenobi, is now an enemy of the Republic. He must die. And his son must die with him."

"I will never hurt Anakin!" he shook his head.

"Did you not just say that you would do whatever I asked?" Sidious reminded him.

"The boy is like my own son!"

"Anakin, Anakin," Sidious sighed with the air of a parent correcting an errant child. "Do you think, if that boy had to choose, he would pick you over his own father?"

"Then I'll kill Obi Wan! I swear, I will! I'll kill every Jedi in the galaxy, but not the boy!" Anakin insisted.

"It's them or me, Anakin. Or perhaps I should put it more plainly--it's them or _Padme_," Sidious told him.

He hung his head. "I…"

"And when they are dead, Padme will be yours. Her unborn child will be yours. The power to save them both will be yours," went on the Sith Lord.

_I love you, Uncle Anakin…you don't need any more power…you can save her from anything, all by yourself._

But what if he couldn't?

_I love you._

"…can't…"

"There is a place within you, my boy, a place as briskly clean as ice on a mountaintop, cool and remote. Find that high place, and look down within yourself; breathe that clean, icy air as you regard your guilt and shame. Do not deny them; observe them. Take your horror in your hands and look at it. Examine it as a phenomenon. Smell it. Taste it. Come to know it as only you can, for it is yours, and it is precious," said Lord Sidious.

Even as he spoke, Anakin was finding that place. Whether it was forming within him or had been there all along, he did not know. He stood there inside himself and took his darkest self, his most terrifying and horrible and electrifying emotions, the basest part of what it meant to be alive, into his hands. What he found appalled him. Yet it liberated him. He shredded his own feelings, examined them, and put them together again. Then he found that they still pulsed within him--still belonged to him. They empowered him--but they were without the ability to cloud his mind. His plan took on a new aspect. It solidified. It was given a shape, and slowly that shape took on a face. He knew the beast that was Anakin Skywalker, and found that beast to be capable of treachery and deceit far beyond that of the man before him.

"Yes," he lied.

"Yes to what, my boy?"

"Yes, I want your knowledge. I want your power. I want the power to save Padme. I can't live with her! Give me the power to stop death," he entreated.

"That power only my Master truly achieved, but together we will find it. The Force is strong with you, my boy. You can do _anything_," Sidious told him.

"The Jedi betrayed you," Anakin said, and he absolutely meant it. "The Jedi betrayed both of us."

"As you say. Are you ready?"

"I am," he said, but even as he spoke the words, he carefully guarded his own intent. "I give myself to you. I pledge myself to the ways of the Sith. Take me as your apprentice. Teach me. Lead me. Be my Master."

"It is your will to join your destiny forever with the Order of the Sith Lords?" Sidious asked formally.

Anakin lowered his head gravely in response. "Yes."

"Then it is done. You are now one with the Order of the Dark Lords of the Sith. From this day forward, the truth of you, my apprentice, now and forevermore, will be Darth…"

A pause no longer than a heartbeat. Longer and darker than the grave. The Force itself became a fire that roared in his ears. And in the Jedi Temple, though he didn't hear it, a little boy wept for the loss of his hero.

"Vader."


	52. His Final Hour

"I came as soon as I could," Bail said as he rushed into the Kenobis' living room. Padme raised her tear-stained face from her hands, and he slid down on the couch beside her, gripping her shoulders.

Padme opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. As she tried to force the words past her constricting throat, Bail's eyes narrowed with concern. The young Senator fell against him, burying her face in his shoulder. Startled, he didn't move for a moment, then he gently rubbed her back.

She quickly pushed herself up again, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. "

He shook his head. "What is it, Padme? Is it about Obi Wan? News from Utapau?"

"No--Bail, it's Ani," she said. "Something's very wrong."

"Ani? _What's _wrong?" he looked around worriedly. "Where is he?"

"He's at the temple. He went with Anakin last night. Anakin was supposed to bring him home this afternoon, but something happened. He's afraid. There's something going on there, but I don't know what," she explained.

Bail nodded and wet his lips. He knew little about the Force, but he had seen enough of this family to know that if Padme said the boy was afraid, there was indeed a problem. He rose without hesitation, though he still held her hands.

"I'll go. Stay here and rest," he said, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. Then he caught sight of the sky outside her window. The glowing red sky. He turned sharply toward it, and his chest tightened. "Padme."

She tightened her grip on his hands and pulled herself erect, following his gaze. "No. Oh, no…"

Bail Organa ran.

The Jedi Temple was burning.

-----

Anakin Kenobi pressed himself further behind the chair in the Council Chamber and tried in vain to stifle his tears. At first, he had only heard the clatter of the Clone Troopers' footsteps as they marched through the Temple. He felt fear around him. He felt terror. Then heard the familiar whine of blaster fire. He felt pain that was not his own. He felt his uncle's rage and suffering, closer now. He heard the shrill panic of the younglings, and he pressed his cheek against the cool surface of Yoda's Council seat, drawing comfort from the echo of the ancient master that still resonated within it.

"We can't stay here, Ani. We have to go. Now," Qui-Gon said.

"We can't," he shook his head. There were others in the room now, all gathered as close as they could get to this chair and the protective presence of Yoda, though even with his skin against it, Ani could feel the Dark Side devouring that remnant of the great Jedi Master. The younglings' fear was feeding the darkness as surely as the Sith's hatred. If Ani ran, they would follow in a panic, and they would be slaughtered.

"He is coming to kill them already," Qui-Gon reminded him.

"Not me. He'll listen to me," Ani said.

The Jedi Spirit knelt beside him kindly, gently. "No one can make a Jedi fall, Ani. No matter what lies Palpatine told him, in the end, the choice was his. Anakin Skywalker will be dead by the time he reaches this room. What is out there now is already Darth Vader."

"Not yet," replied Ani. There was no anger, no defiance. It was a simple statement of fact. The Dark Man had not come yet.

So, he waited, softly sobbing, battered by brutal waves of fear and fury, pain, panic, and self-loathing, until the shadow fell across the threshold of the Council Room. The muffled crying stopped as terror froze the younglings' throats. The voice cracked through the air, pulling him from his hiding place.

"Anakin."

One of the younglings bolted. Ani dashed out too, desperate to stop her, but he saw the figure in the door way catch her. He saw the blue blade in his uncle's hand rise, and he saw it spear a girl hardly any older than himself.

_"Uncle Anakin, what are you doing?"_ he cried in despair.

"Ani--" it came out as a sob.

The boy stepped closer, biting his lip to keep back his own tears. He heard nothing beyond the pounding of his heart and the harsh rasp of his uncle's breath. The little girl's body hung limply in Anakin's hand, and he dropped it--as if the lifeless flesh had burned him. He saw hate, and horror and revulsion in his uncle's eyes. In the lurid glow of the lightsaber, those eyes had grown so dark as to be almost black, and the boy suppressed a shudder.

The weapon clicked off. Around them, younglings began to weep again. Anakin slowly moved his left hand to his belt, where he removed the charred hilt of a second lightsaber and laid it in his nephew's hands. Ani closed his eyes and swallowed, still able to feel the agony of the Padawan whose blade this was. It had been etched into the metal much as Yoda's calming energy still lingered in his chair.

"Get out of here. Run, Ani!" his uncle commanded.

"Wh-what?" the boy stammered.

"Back to your mother. Tell her to wait for me. Don't go with anyone else. Sidious knows what she and Organa are planning. Go!" he waved furiously toward the door.

"No!" Ani shook his head. He could barely see through his own tears as he held out his hand to the Sith. "You take me. _You can still take me home!"_

"I can't. I'll come later. Ani, go. Leave!" ordered Anakin.

"Uncle Anakin, please," he sobbed. "I want to help you!"

"It's too late for me," Anakin said, and the lightsaber in his hand hissed and crackled to life. He took a step back, his eyes already moving toward the Jedi children huddled on the floor. It rose, and he screamed one final, desperate, selfless plea, "RUN!"

Then there was only Darth Vader.

Anakin Kenobi ran.

-----

Bail raced out of Padme's apartment and bolted toward the turbolift, whipping a comlink from his pocket as he moved. "Antilles!"

_"Yes, my lord?" _came the instant reply from the captain of the Tantive IV.

"Route an alert to SER," he ordered as he stepped onto the lift. "The Jedi Temple is on fire!"

_"Yes, sir. We know. Senate Emergency Response has announced a state of martial law, and the Temple is under lockdown. There's been some kind of Jedi rebellion," _reported the captain.

"What are you talking about? That's impossible. Why aren't there fireships onstation?" he demanded.

_"I don't have any details, my lord; we only know what SER is telling us,"_ Antilles apologized.

"I'm going down there now--" Bail started.

"_My lord, I wouldn't recommend it_--"

"I don't have any choice. Anakin Kenobi is there," Bail said flatly. "I won't take any unnecessary chances. And speaking of not taking chances…"

"Sir?"

"Captain. Order the duty crew onto the Tantive and get her engines warm. I've got a bad feeling about this," Bail told him.

"Yes, my lord."

His speeder was an open-cockpit model and he didn't bother opening the door, simply vaulted over it. Then he lifted off and yanked the control yoke hard to send the craft shooting upward into a good half dozen crisscrossing streams of traffic. He was neither a violent nor profane man, but if the controls of his speeder had at that moment been Palpatine's neck, the Supreme Chancellor would have undoubtedly suffered a crushed windpipe, a snapped spine, and had a decidedly unattractive ring of inflamed fingprints embedded in his flesh by the time that Bail set the craft down outside the temple. Palpatine's ears would also no longer exist, having been incinerated by a string of such invective that the deck crew of the Tantive IV would sincerely have wondered whether their prince had perhaps been transformed into an angry Wookiee on the night of the full moon.

He set down a few meters from the entrance to the temple and jumped out again, stunned at the sight of a squad of Clone Troopers guarding the doors with rifles raised. They lowered their weapons as he approached.

"What is going _on here??"_ he demanded.

"There's been a rebellion, sir. Don't worry. Everything is under control," a Clone sergeant told him flatly.

"Under control? Where are the SER teams? What is the _army_ doing here?"

"I'm sorry, I can't talk about that, sir," was the reply.

"Has there been some kind of attack on the Temple?" Bail asked.

"I'm sorry, I can't talk about that, sir."

"Listen to me, Sergeant, I am a Senator of the Galactic Republic," Bail said. "My friends' son is in there, and his mother--"

"I'm sorry, sir. No one is allowed entry," the clone cut him off.

"Maybe you didn't understand me, Sergeant. General Kenobi's son--"

Suddenly, the four clones in front of him snapped their DC-15s to their shoulders. Blinking, Bail backed off. Then a burst of blaster fire from inside drew the clones' attention, and he saw two Jedi come pelting out at full tilt, lightsabers glowing. As one being, they flipped into the air, blue and green blades glowing, and sliced through the clones.

Bail's mouth fell open. Then as they moved further out of the swirling smoke, he realized. They weren't _Jedi _at all. Children. They were children wielding the weapons of men. And one of them--

"Ani!!!!!!"

Red death lanced out of the corridor, and Bail dove. The blue blade flew, spinning, out of the boy's grasp, and a hail of blaster fire rained around them as clones thundered up out of the hall. Bail crashed into the four-year-old, knocking him back and felt the blistering heat of a blaster shot graze his shoulderblade as they fell.

He heard the boy scream and lay there, unmoving, covering him with his own body, until the muffled cry died against his chest. He watched in horror as the second boy was gunned down--more than gunned down. He was shot to rags. Tears of rage and grief filled the Senator's eyes, and he slowly sat up again, cradling Ani's body tight against his chest. He grabbed his singed cloak, wrapped it around the boy, who now hung limp in his arms, and turned to face the advancing clones.

"This wasn't a Jedi Padawan!" he screamed at them. "You just killed General Kenobi's son!"

"I'm sorry, sir," a clone said coldly as his weapon rose. "It's time for you to go."

"Ah," Bail Organa nodded. "And so it is."

He spun before they could order him to drop the body he still held and raced for the speeder. He was only halfway to it when he heard another one say in the same flat, dehumanized tone, "Kill him. No witnesses."

He ran on through the storm of red energy then hurled himself to the ground. Still clutching Ani, he used his forward momentum to carry him the rest of the way and rolled under the speeder. He came up on the other side and threw the boy roughly into the pilot's seat.

"Down, down!" he whispered urgently. Then he grabbed the door and swung his leg onto the tailfin, using the speeder itself as cover while he stabbed the keys to reinitialize its autorouter. Clones charged toward him, firing as they moved.

His speeder heeled over and blasted away, and Bail hung on for dear life as the vehicle sailed into oncoming traffic. His mouth dropped open as Ani, still curled up with his head on his knees to avoid being seen, reached up and grabbed the control yoke. He steered them through, not only avoiding other vehicles but keeping Bail himself from being shot again until they were out of range of the clones' rifles. Once they were high enough to be out of view, he sat up and edged over to allow the shaking Senator to pull himself inside.

"Are you all right?" Bail panted as he managed to haul himself over the door and sit up again.

Ani leaned back against the seat and rolled his head to the side, giving him a long, weary, tearful look. "They didn't hit me, Uncle Bail. They got you instead."


	53. Until The Night is Over

Padme raced onto the balcony as the speeder set down. Bail pushed open the door and hurried over to her, cradling her son in his arms. She could see that Ani was wrapped in something, and as she reached to take him, she felt the soft fabric of the senator's cloak. The boy was shaking, and peering down at him, she saw an expression strangely vacant. He rested his head against her chest, staring off toward the still burning temple.

"Ani? What happened? Where is your Uncle Anakin?" Padme asked, pressing her face into his hair.

"Mustafar," came the faint whisper.

She looked sharply up at Bail, eyes narrowing. "Mustafar? Why is he going to Mustafar?"

"I don't know," the senator shook his head. "But we can't stay and talk about it now, Padme. We have to move, quickly. Everyone in the speeder. The droids, too. I'll explain as we go."

She nodded and called over her shoulder for Artoo and Threepio. Bail took her elbow, guiding her into the vehicle and then waiting for the droids. Ani still lay listlessly against her breast, and she felt a terrible weight begin to settle over her as she stroked his hair, murmuring soft, wordless comfort.

As soon as they were airborne, Bail stabbed the speeder's comm button. There was a burst of static, and Padme frowned, watching with ever-growing alarm. She drew in a breath, trying to slow the rapid pounding of her heart.

"Here, m'lady, please put this on," Threepio offered from the back seat.

She turned numbly, wondering what he was talking about and saw that he had brought a heavy cloak from the apartment. Obi Wan's, she realized, and her vision began to sparkle with tears. She took it gratefully, slipping it on over her nightgown. She wrapped it around Ani as well, hoping that the trace of his father in the fabric might soothe the boy. Gently rocking him, she listened as Bail contacted the crew of the the _Tantive IV_.

"Antilles! Organa to Antilles. Come in, Captain!"

_"Antilles here, my lord."_

"It's worse than I thought. Far worse than you've heard. Send someone to Chance Palp--no, strike that. Go yourself. Take five men and go to the spaceport. I know at least one Jedi ship is on the ground there; Saesee Tiin brought in _Sharp Spiral _late last night. I need you to steal his homing beacon."

_"What? His beacon? Why?"_ the stunned captain asked, and Padme stared silently at her friend.

"No time to explain. Get the beacon and meet me at the _Tantive_. We're leaving the planet," Bail paused, looking grimly down at Padme's shell-shocked son. "While we still can."

"_Yes, my lord," _came the instant and automatic response.

"What's happened, Bail?" Padme asked as he punched the comm button off again.

He explained. Ani gave no reaction as the tale went on. He simply continued to stare. Padme didn't have her husband's finely honed Jedi senses, or even her son's remarkable empathic perceptions, but she was his mother. In the Force, there was a bond that ran between them unlike anything else that she had ever experienced. Obi Wan had shown it to her--or rather, he had shown her how to touch and use it--but she had known it was there since before this precious boy was even born. Beneath the numbness, beyond the frightening void where fear and even horror should have been, she touched pain and grief so raw that the sensation made her gasp, so hot that if it had been physical, it would already have burned its way through the little boy's battered body. He recoiled, curling his body tighter against her, curling up even in the Force.

"Shhh," she soothed as she withdrew. "I'm sorry."

Bail looked at them questioningly, but Padme didn't have the strength to explain. She lowered her head, brushing a hand tenderly over the boy's forehead as she kissed him. No one spoke again until they reached the Senate Office building. Even then, no one said more than necessary.

There were red-robed Senate Guards stationed in the underground shiplift beneath the building. Padme shucked the hood of Obi Wan's cloak up over her head and shifted Ani in her arms so that he was curled against one side. His arms wound around her neck, and he hid his face against her shoulder.

"Just keep moving," Bail said softly as he came around to her side of the speeder to hold the door open for her. There was a blaster pistol in his hand, and he tucked it hurriedly into his belt, covering it with the bottom of his tunic. "Artoo, Threepio, go ahead of us."

Even Threepio seemed to sense the direness of the situation, and he kept his mouth shut. The two droids hurried through the accessway and onto the lowered ramp of the _Tantive IV_ followed by Padme and Bail, who kept their pace slow and deliberate.

"Don't look up, Padme," she heard Qui-Gon Jinn warn beside her.

She sucked in a surprised breath but did as he told her.

"Ani is beyond helping you now. You'll have to get past them yourself," the Jedi Spirit said.

She gave a very slight nod. _What do I do?_ she thought, though she had no way of knowing if he could hear the question.

"It's just a simple suggestion. You saw Obi Wan do it to Typho--" Qui-Gon explained.

_That was five years ago!_ she protested.

"Remember. Don't center on your fears. Center on the now. Center on the Force. Everything is now in the Force," said Qui-Gon.

She closed her eyes and took in another breath. With it, she drew in the Force--banished fear. There was no time for fear now. There was only her son, who needed to get past those guards. There was only the Force within her, around her, waiting. There.

"A simple suggestion," repeated Qui-Gon. "Breathe it into the Force as you speak."

The Redrobes called for them to halt. Padme's hand rose gently. Her fingers flicked. Without raising her head, she murmured, "Everything is in order here. You can go."

The guard's perceptions melted and reformed. She felt it happen. She felt her own words form again on his lips. "Everything is in order here. You can go."

Bail knew better than to stop and ask. He clanked up the ramp, keeping a firm hold on Padme's arm, and Captain Antilles met them at the top. Padme threw back her hood, and the Captain sketched a bow.

"Since when do Redrobes guard Senate ships?" Bail asked as the small company moved deeper into the white-walled craft.

Antilles lifted his shoulders and gave his head a shake. "I don't know, sir. I have a feeling there are some Senators whom Palpatine doesn't want leaving the planet."

Bail nodded. "Thank the Force I'm not one of them. Yet. Did you get the beacon?"

"Yes, sir. No one even tried to stop us. The clones at Chance Palp seemed confused--like they're not quite sure who's in charge."

"That'll change soon. Too soon. We'll all know who's in charge," Bail said grimly. "Arrange quarters for our guests, Captain, and prepare to raise ship."

"Back to Alderaan, sir?" the captain asked.

"Kashyyyk. There's no way to know if any Jedi have lived through this--but if I had to bet on one, my money'd be on Yoda," Bail told him.

"Obi Wan is alive," Padme said with soft certainty.

"Then we'll find him," Bail nodded.

She took comfort in that as she carried her son into the room that one of the _Tantive_'s crewmen prepared for her. She laid him on the bed and then sank down beside him as Artoo and Threepio kept vigil by the door. Ani didn't move or even blink. She rested her head on the pillow next to him, softly running her fingertips over his face, wordlessly letting him know that she was still with him. Silently, she reached out, aching inside, and as tears began to slip down her cheeks, a whisper flowed into the Force.

_Obi Wan, come back to me. Come back to your son._

_-----_

Obi Wan took General Grievous's fighter screaming off of Utapau so fast he popped the gravity well and was in hyperspace before the _Vigilance_ could even scramble its fighters. He came out again well beyond the system, kicked the starfighter to a new vector, and made another jump. A few more, all of random direction and duration left him deep in interstellar space.

"You know," he muttered, "integral hyperspace capability is rather useful in a starfighter; why don't we have it yet?"

This was the way that Obi Wan Kenobi dealt with crisis. Somehow, although he knew that his friend and partner wasn't with him, he was surprised when he did not hear the ship's speakers crackle with an answering joke from Anakin.

He probably would never hear one again. His Clone Troopers had suddenly turned on him. He suspected--very strongly--that the same thing was happening elsewhere. If so, Anakin would most likely have been caught in the massacre.

His thoughts turned to his wife and son, still on Coruscant, and icy fear pierced his heart. He, Yoda, and Mace had expected Palpatine to hold him exempt from whatever he attempted to do to the Jedi Order. It seemed that they had miscalculated. Of course, they had never anticipated such brutal tactics--political sanctions, perhaps the outlawing of the Jedi Order--even incarceration or execution might have entered their minds. This though--_this_ was beyond anything that they could have imagined. Outright slaughter of the _entire_ Jedi Order, without any fear of public reprisal was simply beyond their ability to fathom, and if Obi Wan was vulnerable despite the fact that he was no longer even a _member_ of the Jedi Order, then his _family--_

He cut off the thought, running a hand over his face. He closed his eyes and breathed the Force, letting the fear flow out of him--because he had to--because to do anything else would mean sacrificing the only chance that he might have of saving them.

While the nav system worked at recalculating his position, he punched codes to gang the Jedi comlink that he still carried into the starfighter's system. What he heard when he had done so was an accelerating series of beeps. It was a signal he knew as well as any Jedi--one he had hoped for with every breath for the past five years. The recall code. It was being broadcast on every channel by every Holonet repeater. It was supposed to mean that the war was over. It was _supposed_ to mean that the Council had ordered all Jedi to return to the Temple immediately. Obi Wan had already learned that it did not. He keyed the comlink for audio. He took a deep breath.

"Emergency Code Nine Thirteen," he said, and waited.

He had no idea how long he stayed there. Waiting. Listening to his own breath and the pounding of his heart. Then he felt her. He took in her pain and fear, her grief and hope and her unbending devotion.

_Obi Wan, come back to me. Come back to your son._

_Padme? Darling, where are you?_ he asked, reaching instinctively toward her presence through the Force.

_We're on the Tantive…Ani needs you…_

_What's happening? Where's the ship, Padme? Where are you?_

There was no answer. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, waiting again. He issued the Nine Thirteen a second time. A third. He hung in space, holding the silence, holding to hope because they were alive. They were on the _Tantive IV_, which meant that they were with Bail. Bail had kept his promise. Knowing that was enough. Knowing that, he could endure the waiting and drift through the cold black of space. He could wait until he night was over.

After an interminable time, a sound crackled over his comlink. Then a burst of blue fuzz. A glance at the console in front him confirmed that it was on a Jedi frequency. He jerked forward again.

"Please repeat," he said. "I'm locking onto your signal. Please repeat."

The fuzz became a spray of blue laser, which gradually resolved into the garbled but recognizable figure of a tall, slim human with dark hair and an elegant goatee. _"Obi Wan? Are you all right? Have you been wounded?"_

"Bail!" Obi-Wan exclaimed with profound relief. "No, I'm not wounded--but what's happening there? Are Padme and Ani all right?

_"There have been ambushes all over the galaxy," _Bail told him_. "Ani was--in the temple when the younglings were killed. He apparently went with Anakin after you left for Utapau."_

Obi Wan lowered his head, a sickening dread twisting up through his stomach at this news. The tremors began in his hands and quickly moved up his wrists, through his arms, and then back down into the rest of his body. None of his Jedi discipline could stop them. It was all he could do not to wretch.

_My boy, _he thought bleakly.

"Have you had contact with any other survivors?" he heard someone say. The voice sounded like his, but he didn't remember asking the question.

_My son!_ he cried silently.

"_Only one_," his friend said grimly. _"Lock onto my coordinates. They're waiting for you."_

_Anakin. Hear me,_ he said in the Force, even as his hands were moving over the fighter's controls.

He felt a faint response--not with words, but pure emotion. Recognition--hope--pain--love--desperate need. He stretched out, offering gentle comfort, a wordless balm of love and compassion, all the fierce and tender protectiveness that this child had birthed in him. They were feelings that the Jedi Order would have called attachment, but in that moment, Obi Wan Kenobi called them life.

_I'm here, Ani. I'm with you. I won't leave you. I promise._


	54. No Matter What Happens Tomorrow

Padme felt him as soon as his fighter docked with the _Tantive_. She sat up, leaning over to press a kiss onto her son's forehead. Then she slid out of the bed and pulled Obi Wan's cloak back over her head.

"Dad's here, Ani," she said softly. "Artoo and Threepio will stay with you until he comes, all right?"

There was no answer. She waited for a moment, and Threepio shuffled over to her, giving her shoulder a hesitant pat. "He'll be all right, Mistress. Artoo and I will take good care of him."

She smiled faintly. "Thank you, Threepio. Ani, Dad and I will be right back. I promise."

She hurried out, making her way back through the stark white halls and met up with Yoda and Bail outside the airlock. The entire corridor felt hot--too hot--and her vision blurred as the door cycled open. She could barely see him through her tears but she sprang forward, pulling him toward her as her arms wound around his neck.

She felt his mouth on hers--hot, demanding, even desperate, and she twined her fingers in his hair, holding him there just as urgently while his hands slid over her back. They clung to one another, lost in scent and touch and taste, thudding hearts and frantic whispers, soft curves and lean, hard muscle. Then she rested her cheek on his chest, tried to say his name and found she couldn't. All she wanted was to stay in his arms, and it didn't matter that Bail and Yoda were watching. It didn't matter that the Republic was in chaos or that they all might die before the day was over. His lips were in her hair, then his hands were guiding her backward, and his deep blue eyes were searching her face. Whatever he found there must have satisfied him, because he leaned in again and gently kissed the tears from her cheeks.

_I love you,_ he said silently.

"Always have," she murmured, then turned to face Yoda and Bail again.

The two of them were actually smiling. The first smiles that any of them had managed all day. Bail stepped forward and clasped Obi Wan's forearm. "You made it."

"Young Kenobi, dark times these are. Good to see you, it is," said Yoda, and the group began to move. They walked quickly and without discussion of where they were going, heading with one mind toward Padme's quarters--toward the boy waiting there.

"You were attacked by your clones, also, Master Yoda?" Obi Wan asked.

"With the help of the Wookiees, barely escape, I did.

"How many other Jedi managed to survive?" Obi Wan asked, his fingers tightening painfully on Padme's as the question passed his lips.

"Ani said that--that Anakin had gone to Mustafar. But we don't know if that was before or after…" Padme trailed off, feeling new tears sting her eyes.

"Heard from no one, have we," Yoda said, gravely lowering his eyes.

"I saw thousands of troops attack the Jedi Temple. That's why we went looking for you and Yoda," Bail said.

"Have we had any contact from the Temple?" asked Obi Wan.

"Only the recall message have we received," replied Yoda.

"Recall message?" Padme asked with a frown.

"A coded retreat signal, it is," explained Yoda.

"It requests all Jedi return to the Temple. It says the war is over," added Bail.

"Well, then we have to go back--" began Obi Wan.

"No!" Padme shook her head. "It's too dangerous."

"It has to be a trap," agreed Bail.

"We--" Obi Wan began, and Padme felt the loss of Anakin stab through her husband's heart. She closed her eyes. "--_I_--have a policy on traps."

"Suggest dismantling the coded signal, do you?" Yoda asked.

"Yes, Master. There is too much at stake here, and we need a clearer picture of what has happened."

"I agree. In a dark place we find ourselves...a little more knowledge might light our way," said Yoda.

-----

They reached the door and the discussion faded, giving way to the more urgent concerns that waited inside. For a moment, Obi Wan felt pain so hot and raw that he nearly gasped. It took all his discipline not to step back as the door hissed open to let them inside. He swallowed and squeezed Padme's fingers, then slid into the room ahead of her.

The lights were off, and the small room was entirely dark. The bed was unmade, but Ani wasn't in it. Obi Wan was only half aware of Bail and Yoda, who followed his wife into the room. All he saw was Artoo and Threepio, who were standing worriedly on either side of the cramped closet. He had to strain now to feel anything from his son at all. Drawing in a careful breath, he took a step closer and heard Padme move after him.

"Alone, must Obi Wan do this," Yoda said quietly.

"No," Padme's voice was firm. "That's not the Kenobi way."

He smiled and reached his hand back for her, then gestured for the droids to move away. Artoo gave a low, worried whistle and rolled back toward the bed. Threepio hesitated for a moment, but finally shuffled off to stand beside him. Bail and Yoda joined them, the entire group waiting in tense silence while the Kenobis approached the closet and the horrifically frightened little boy inside.

He wasn't even crying. Obi Wan stopped in the doorway and silently helped his wife onto the floor. He moved his right arm around her and shifted to give her as much support as he could while still leaving his lap open to their son. Ani didn't react, and if not for the tremor of recognition that he felt in the Force, Obi Wan would have wondered whether he knew that they were there at all.

"Ani," he called very softly, caressing with his voice.

_Terror!_

Padme gasped with the force of it. Obi Wan closed his eyes again. He stretched out, searching the Force for guidance, waiting. Ani withdrew still further, curling so tightly within himself that his father could sense only the faintest glimmer of his presence in the Force. Tears pricked his eyes--grief for the brilliant beacon that presence had always been. He let himself feel it, quietly and fully, let it wash over him, and then he let it pass through. Bringing himself back to the moment in which he stood, he looked at the huddled form of his child and spoke again.

"Anakin, it's all right. I know it hurts, and you don't want to look at it anymore. You don't want to feel it anymore. We're not going to force you. Mom and I are just going to stay here with you until you're ready," he promised.

"It doesn't matter how long that takes, Ani," Padme added. "You decide."

So they waited. It might have been minutes or hours--it felt like days--but they waited together, and slowly Ani uncurled. It was another eternity before he pushed himself into a sitting position and turned to look at them. Gently, with a motion so slow that it seemed to take hours in is own right, Obi Wan stretched out his hand. Ani swallowed, still pressed firmly against the closet wall, but his eyes flicked rapidly from the hand to his father's face and back again. Still not moving, keeping even his breath slow and perfectly regulated, Obi Wan continued to wait.

It wasn't just his experience in the Temple that frightened him, Obi Wan began to sense. It was his own pain--his own grief and suffering, which hurt so badly that the pain itself was terrifying. The boy had no ability to cope with pain so intense, and he had heard over and over again that fear was a path to the Dark Side. More than that, Obi Wan suddenly realized. Ani hadn't just heard--he had…_seen?…_

_How has he seen?_

_What has he seen?_

He pushed the questions aside, leaving them for later. They weren't important now. What was important was the boy who crouched immobile and petrified by the wall. He _didn't_ want to be afraid anymore--he _didn't._ A tear slowly rolled its way down his cheek. This hurt too much! He couldn't!

"You can't keep it inside, Ani. It's going to be all right. You don't have to do it alone," he murmured.

Ani ran his palms over the wall behind him and finally pushed himself off of it. Then he froze, blue eyes bulging as he stared at his parents. Obi Wan restrained the urge to grab him. All he wanted was to wrap the boy in his arms, but he knew that any premature advance could send him crashing back inside himself, this time too far for any of them to reach.

"It's okay, Ani," Padme assured him. "We're here with you. We'll do it together."

He crept toward them, slowly and painfully, each movement a profound effort, until he reached his parents and crawled whimpering into his father's lap. He hid his face in Obi Wan's chest and wept, his whole body wracked with uncontrolled shaking.

"That's my boy," Obi Wan encouraged, enfolding him in a protective hug. Padme leaned in to kiss the back of his hair, and they held him for a while, gently rocking him until the first wave of tears abated. Finally, Ani ventured a cautious look up at him, and he moved his hand to brush the boy's tears away. "You have to look at it, Ani."

He shook his head violently, burying his face again.

"Remember what Master Yoda told me? Your fear must be named before it can be banished," Obi Wan murmured quietly.

There was no visible reaction, but he gradually began to sense the boy turn inward again. This time, though, it was not to hide but to face the agony of fear and grief that burned like a cancer within him. His shaking became more violent, and he clung to his father, but he didn't shy away.

"That's the way," Obi Wan closed his eyes against the carnage that spilled from his son's mind. The terrible clanking march of the clones as it echoed through the halls, the stench of smoke and blood and charred flesh. A terrible swathe of brilliant blue energy, a black clad monster without a face.

_Sidious?_ he thought. _In the Temple?_

But, no. His feelings whispered something else…

He felt Ani give a silent cry of alarm and ducked his head to kiss the boy again. "It's all right. Take a deep breath. As you breathe in, take the hurt with you. Accept it, Anakin. Let it exist, don't be afraid of it…" he paused, testing the Force, tightening his arms around his son. "…good. Now, let it move into your lungs, and breathe out again. Slowly. Let it all flow out of you. Give it to the Force."

It was a simple exercise, but one that was the core of what it meant to be a Jedi. It was not a denial of self, nor of emotion but a release of them. It was a conscious choice to forego those things which hindered true oneness with the Force. It didn't mean a lack of feeling, and in this case it would be no miracle cure for Ani. An ordeal such as the one that he had just been through would leave scars, even long after the pain was gone. It would certainly take more than one moment in his father's arms to heal this wound, but it was a beginning. Empty now of his suffering, the boy found peace, and in that peace, he closed his eyes. No one spoke, and in a surprisingly short time, he had drifted off to sleep.

His parents stayed where they were, holding him, and it was Yoda who moved first. His cane tapped softly on the floor as he shuffled over them, and he too simply peered down at Ani for a while, testing the Force. When he spoke, his voice was low and gentle.

"Rest now, he must. And when he awakes, counsel him, I shall," the Master promised.


	55. You And I Will Be Together

With their son asleep, Padme and Obi Wan sank wearily onto the other side of the bed. Bail and Yoda had gone to the ship's bridge, taking the droids with them to give the Kenobis some much-needed privacy. He slipped his right arm around her, pulling her gently against his side, and she simply leaned into the hug for a while. Then he withdrew and began to massage her lower back. She closed her eyes gratefully.

"I was so worried about you," she murmured.

He kissed the nape of her neck, eliciting a light shiver. "I'm all right."

"For how long?" she asked.

"Padme, until the possible becomes…"

"Then distract me," she cut him off tiredly. "Please."

He sighed against her skin. "I need focus right now. I need clarity. Yoda and I may be the only ones left who can stop the Sith."

Her throat tightened and warm tears slid down her cheeks. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Whatever happens, we'll face it together," he promised.

"Even the Sith?"

"We're always together. You were with me on Naboo when I fought the one who killed Qui-Gon. It was my love for you that helped me put aside my fear and anger. It gave me focus," he said.

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"When I saw Qui-Gon fall, I gave in to my anger and attacked the Sith. He pushed me off the platform where we were fighting, and I ended up hanging on to a maintenance rung while my lightsaber went clattering away. I couldn't grab it; I couldn't use the Force to jump back up--until I realized that if I didn't, there would be no one left to keep him from killing you," he explained.

"You never told me that," she said.

"It's…not exactly my favorite moment to talk about," he murmured.

She smiled sadly. "Well, thank you for telling me now."

He nodded and started to say something else, but the door chime interrupted him. He pulled reluctantly away from her neck and sat up. "Come in."

As the door slid open, they both rose, moving to meet Yoda and Bail, who stepped back to allow them into the hall. He kept his arm firmly around her, and Padme leaned on him more than she physically needed to. Bail waited until the door was firmly closed behind them to keep from disturbing Ani, but Padme didn't think their voices could wake the boy yet.

"I've just been summoned back to Coruscant by Mas Amedda; Palpatine has called the Senate into Extraordinary Session. Attendance is required," he said.

"Ah. It's clear what this will be about," said Obi Wan.

"Mas Amedda will have contacted me as well; they'll know I'm gone," Padme said.

"I am," Bail said slowly, "concerned it might be a trap."

"Unlikely this is," Yoda disagreed. "Unknown, is the purpose of your sudden departure from the capital; dead, young Obi Wan and I are both presumed to be."

"And Palpatine won't be moving against the Senate as a whole. At least, not yet; he'll need the illusion of democracy to keep the individual star systems in line. He won't risk a general uprising," added Obi Wan.

"Still, Padme should stay here…" Bail began.

"No," she insisted. "Palpatine knows that I'm alive. If I don't appear in the Senate, it will be clear to him that Obi Wan is alive as well."

"But you said yourself, he will already know that you were gone," Obi Wan shook his head.

"I was out trying to find my son," she said firmly. "Threepio and Artoo came with me because I was too distraught to wait for my security guards. Palpatine may well _suspect_ something more, but he won't be able to prove it. If I'm questioned, I can say I had nothing to do with your so-called Jedi rebellion."

"And Ani?" Bail questioned.

"Let him stay here for now," she said. "He'll be safe. Let them--let them think he _did_ die in the Temple."

Obi Wan took her by the shoulders, gently turning her to face him. "Padme, if you're wrong…"

She gave a soft smile. He had no Jedi wisdom now, only the devotion of the man she loved--the man whom she knew would still do his duty. Her hand rose gently to his cheek. "Then I will still have given you the time you need. Time enough to shut down the beacon in the temple and get our son far away from Coruscant."

"I won't sacrifice you and the twins!" he said vehemently.

"I know you won't," she nodded. "And I love you. I always have."

-----

"If into the security recordings you go, only pain will you find, Obi Wan," Yoda told him quietly.

"Master Yoda, I _must_ know the truth!" he insisted.

Yoda bowed his head in troubled acquiescence, and Obi Wan turned, his fingers sure and steady as he keyed up the internal security scans. Five years could not erase a lifetime in this place, a lifetime with these people--his family--the codes were burned into his flesh, part of him as surely as these people had been. He began to wish they weren't.

"It can't be," he breathed, shaking his head in vehement denial. "It can't be."

Yet it was. This was what his feelings had whispered to him aboard the _Tantive IV._ This was the pain he had seen--_felt--_destroying his son. Destroying _both_ of his sons. Tears welled in his eyes, but still he watched as the boy he had taught, his friend, his brother, the son who had stood with him through every trial of his life since Qui-Gon's death, cut down the last of the Jedi and then move on to slaughtering children.

"No," he managed say as his son ran out from behind the refuge of Yoda's chair in the Council Chamber, his hand outstretched to save a little girl who was already dead. "Oh, no."

_"Uncle Anakin, what are you doing?"_

_"Ani--"_

Was it pain he heard? Regret? Oh, please…

_Anakin turned the lightsaber off. _

Both Obi Wan and Yoda gasped. Obi Wan struggled to breathe. _Please. _

_Slowly, Anakin's hand moved to his belt, where he removed the hilt of a second lightsaber and laid it in his nephew's hands. Ani stared at it, swallowed, and closed his eyes in horror._

"Wh-what?" the boy stammered.

Obi Wan could barely stand to watch as his son held out a hand to the killer, still trusting, still believing in the Hero With No Fear.

_"Uncle Anakin, please. I want to help you!"  
_

The words stabbed through Obi Wan's heart. They burned and twisted more painfully than the blue blade of Anakin's lightsaber. Then he heard:

_  
"It's too late for me. RUN!"  
_

He continued to watch as the Dark Side consumed what had been left of his friend. He watched the carnage end, saw a black robed figure enter the Temple and glide over to Anakin, surveying the death and destruction. Anakin knelt.

_"The traitors have been destroyed, Lord Sidious. And the archives are secured. Our ancient holocrons are again in the hands of the Sith."_

The holocrons. Sith holocrons locked in the Temple archives--accessible only those who had been granted the rank of Master by the Jedi Council. Could Anakin have believed that the forbidden knowledge stored there might…

…_save Padme…_

_I'd give anything, _his own voice echoed. Had that really only been a few nights ago?

_Oh, Padme. I'd give anything!_

And he meant it.

_Give_ anything. Even his own life.

But not _take_! Not exchange so many innocent lives for even the _hope_ of saving her!

…and yet…

And yet!

He had spared their son.

_"Good...good. Together, we shall master every secret of the Force. You have done well, my new apprentice. Do you feel your power growing?"_

_"Yes, my Master."_

_"Lord Vader, your skills are unmatched by any Sith before you. Go forth, my boy. Go forth, and bring peace to our Empire."_

"I can't watch anymore," he forced out, fumbling to shut the recording off. He wished he could burn it out of his mind. Agonized, he leaned on the console in front of him, but found his arms wouldn't bear the weight of his body. His knees buckled under him and clung to the console, as helpless in his own grief as Ani had been aboard the _Tantive._

"Warned, you were," said Yoda, his tone as cold and flat as a stone.

Oh, he had been warned, all right. The Council had all warned him, years ago, when he and Qui-Gon had first brought Anakin from Tatooine. He hadn't listened. He'd been too concerned with keeping his word to his Master, and then with his own attachment to Anakin. He should have been the one to die--not the _entire Jedi Order_--not for one mistake. He should have been executed on Geonosis.

"I should have let them _shoot_ me!" he declared.

"What?" Yoda asked.

"No," he realized. "That was already too late--it was already too late at Geonosis. The Zabrak, on Naboo--I should have died there. Before I ever _brought_ him here! I would have, if--"

"_Stop_ this, you will!" commanded Yoda, stepping forward to jab Obi Wan with his gimer stick. The sharp jolt in his side made him gasp, and he reflexively straightened as the Master went on, "_Make_ a Jedi fall, one cannot; beyond even Lord Sidious, this is. _Chose_ this, Skywalker did."

Obi Wan hung his head. "And I'm afraid I know why."

"Why? Why matters not. There is no _why_. There is only a Lord of the Sith, and his apprentice. Two Sith," Yoda leaned toward him intimately, his tone softening very slightly. "And two Jedi."

He gaped, "No, Master--"

"Ah!" Yoda held up a hand for silence. Then he spun around, his cane banging rhythmically against the floor as he moved away. "Come! Come, come! Something for you, I have."

Obi Wan closed his eyes for a long moment, gathering his strength. Then, he followed his friend and teacher up the hall. He wasn't entirely sure where they were going until they arrived at Yoda's quarters. Following the Master inside, he found, remarkably, that the room had been untouched. The taint of the Dark Side was everywhere, even here, but if there was one place in the Jedi Temple where the Force still ran pure, it was here--this room which had been the home of Yoda for more than nine centuries.

There was a growing tightness in his throat as Yoda led him to a dust covered trunk. The lid moved back, and his vision swam as he saw the familiar brown fabric of his own robes rise out of the shadows.

"Master Yoda, I'm a married man. My family is everything to me. I cannot wear those," he said.

"Wore the robes, Skywalker did, and betrayed and murdered his fellow Jedi. Took them off, did you, and yet always have you honored what I taught you. Always have you honored the Jedi Way and your Master Qui-Gon. Jedi you are, Obi Wan, whether robes you wear or not," said Yoda.

He inhaled deeply, gathering his turmoil and grief, all his pain and unrealized hopes for the future. He gathered within himself his entire life and slowly breathed out again, releasing all he was to the Force, letting the Force define him. Empty of self, he inclined his head. Yoda was right. Whatever else he was, he had never stopped being a Jedi.

"Kneel," Yoda murmured.

Head still bowed, he obeyed, dropping onto one knee before the Master. There was little time for ceremony. The clones would be returning, and the two of them could not be discovered here. He heard the _snap-hiss_ of Yoda's lightsaber, felt its humming warmth pass over him, from right shoulder to left.

_"Obi Wan Kenobi, on behalf of Council and by the will of the Force, dub thee I do, Jedi…Knight of the Republic."_

He slowly rose, and a motion of Yoda's arm sent his robes gently sailing from the trunk to his arms. As he accepted them, Yoda returned his lightsaber to his belt and then looked grimly at Obi Wan. "Destroy the Sith _we must_!" he declared.

"Send me to kill the Emperor," Obi Wan pleaded. "I will not kill Anakin."

"To fight this Lord Sidious, strong enough, you are not," Yoda said bluntly. "Die you will, and painfully."

"He is like my brother. I cannot do it," insisted Obi Wan.

"Twisted by the dark side, young Skywalker has become. The boy you trained, gone he is . Consumed by Darth Vader," pronounced Yoda.

"But, Master, he--he _did _spare my son. Perhaps…perhaps he is not yet lost," ventured Obi Wan.

"What remained of Skywalker then, destroyed by now has been. Destroyed by his own obsession. Out of his misery you must put him," said Yoda.

"How could it have come to this?" Obi Wan asked raggedly.

"To question, no time there is," Yoda replied. "To visit our new Emperor, _my_ job will be."

"Palpatine faced Mace and Agen and Kit and Saesee--four of the greatest swordsmen our Order has ever produced. By himself. Even both of us together wouldn't have a chance," Obi Wan said.

"True," Yoda nodded grimly. "But both of us apart, a chance we might _create_."

"I must see to Padme before I go," Obi Wan murmured.

"Yes," agreed Yoda. "Safe, she and your children must be. Go quickly, and may the Force be with you."


	56. As Long As We Are Together

Padme sat numb enough in her Senate pod to have passed for a grieving mother, a tormented wife whose husband had gone outlaw. Bail slid in behind her, offering a silent touch on the arm. To anyone watching, it would have appeared as a gesture of support and comfort. To Padme, though, it was more--_they're inside_, it said.

"I was…held up," he said aloud as he took the open seat beside her. On the other side, Jar Jar turned to nod a worried hello.

"The Chancellor has been elaborating on a plot by the Jedi to overthrow the Senate," she said dully.

"That's not true!" Bail said.

She turned to give him a warning look, "Jar Jar says he's been presenting evidence all afternoon."

In the center of the Grand Convocation Chamber, Palpatine leaned upon the Chancellor's Podium and his voice rang out, ""These Jedi murderers left me _scarred_, left me _deformed_, but they could not scar my integrity! They could not deform my resolve! The remaining traitors will be hunted down, rooted out wherever they may hide, and brought to justice, dead or alive! All collaborators will suffer the same fate. Those who protect the enemy are the enemy! Now is the time! Now we will strike back! Now we will _destroy the destroyers_! _Death to the enemies of democracy_! This has been the most trying of times, but we have passed the test. The war is _over! _The Separatists have been utterly defeated_, and the Republic will stand! _United! United and free! The Jedi Rebellion was our final test—it was the last gasp of the forces of darkness! Now we have left that darkness behind us forever, and a new day has begun! It is _morning_ in the Republic!"

"Here it comes," Padme said without blinking.

Bail shook his head. "Here what comes?"

"You'll see," she said hollowly, and they watched as all hope of a peaceful end to Palpatine's tyranny failed.

"To ensure that we will always stand together, that we will always speak with a single voice and act with a single hand, the Republic must change. We must evolve. We must strive. We have become an empire in fact; let us become an Empire in name as well! We are the first _Galactic Empire_!"

The Senate went wild.

"What are they _doing_?" Bail Organa cried. "Do they understand what they're cheering for?"

Padme shook her head.

"We are an Empire that will continue to be ruled by this august body! We are an Empire that will never return to the political maneuvering and corruption that have wounded us so deeply; we are an Empire that will be directed by a single sovereign, chosen for life!" declared Palpatine. "We are an Empire ruled by the _majority_! An Empire ruled by a new Constitution! An Empire of _laws_, not of politicians! An Empire devoted to the preservation of a just society. Of a safe and secure society! We are an Empire that will stand ten thousand years! We will celebrate the anniversary of this day as Empire Day. For the sake of our children. For our children's children! For the next ten thousand years! Safety! Security! Justice and peace! Say it with me! Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace! Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace!"

The Senate roared and cheered, picking up Palpatine's chant. Padme Amidala Kenobi began to cry. "So this is how liberty dies. With thunderous applause."

Bail shoved himself to his feet. "We cannot let this happen! I have to get to my pod--we can still enter a motion--"

She caught his arm, digging her nails urgently into his flesh. "No, Bail, you can't enter a motion. You _can't_. Fang Zar has already been arrested, and Tundra Dowmeia, and it won't be long until the entire Delegation of the Two Thousand are declared enemies of the state. You stayed off that list for good reason; don't add your name by what you do today."

"But I can't just stand by and watch--"

"You're right. You can't just watch. You have to vote for him," she said flatly.

"What?"

"Bail, it's the only way. It's the only hope you have of remaining in a position to do anyone any good. Vote for Palpatine. Vote for the Empire. Make Mon Mothma vote for him, too. Be good little Senators. Mind your manners and keep your heads down. And keep doing...all those things we can't talk about. All those things I can't know. _Promise_ me, Bail," then she lowered her voice, making sure that no one but he could hear. "And promise me that you'll take care of my son if anything happens to his father."

He nodded faintly. That was all, but it was enough.

"Padme, what you're talking about--what we're not talking about--it could take _twenty years_! Come on, let's go, now. We have to get you out of here," Bail said.

She shook her head. "Palpatine still needs the illusion of democracy. He isn't going to arrest anyone in the Senate arena."

"You should still get back--"

"Not until I know," she insisted, leaving the statement unfinished. As he had said already, some things were better left unsaid, but in her heart she repeated, _Not until I know that my husband is alive and safe._

"What are you going to do?" Bail asked.

"I'm going back to my apartment," she replied simply.

"And wait for them to come and arrest you?" he whispered fiercely. "You can't do that!"

"If I run, it's as good as an admission of guilt. And if the Emperor tracks me to the _Tantive_, he'll find Ani," she whispered.

Bail ran a hand over his face. "But you can't--"

"Yes, I can," Padme said. "If it will help save the Republic--if it will save my son--I can."

-----

She rushed toward him as he came inside, and he reached for her, pulling her into his arms. She trembled against him, and even as he kissed her, that fear tore at him. All he wanted was to take her and run--to the _Tantive IV_ and their son, and then away, out of the Core, beyond the reach of Palpatine and his Empire. He couldn't, of course. Soon there would be nowhere far enough. The Sith must be stopped if the Kenobis were ever to find peace.

She slowly pulled back, and he stroked back her hair with shaking fingers. "Are you all right? What are you doing here? Why didn't you go back to the _Tantive _with Bail?"

"I'm fine," she nodded, then her eyes narrowed as she really looked at him for the first time and saw the robes that he had changed into on the way here. "What are _you_ doing? What are you wearing?"

"Master Yoda Knighted me again before we left the temple," he explained softly.

"Obi Wan, the Jedi have been outlawed…" she began automatically.

"I know," he said. "It's over, Padme, it's--all over. The Republic has fallen."

"The Senate is still intact. I won't believe that everything we've dedicated our lives to is just--gone," she said.

"Darling, it _is _gone. The Sith now rule the galaxy as they did before the Republic. Yoda and I--we may well be all that remains of the Jedi Order."

She closed her eyes, her throat working convulsively. "But--what does this mean--for us?"

"Nothing has changed for me. Yoda says that I have always been a Jedi, and I believe he's right. Now--now I must find out what it means to be a Jedi _and_ be your husband. If you'll let me," he murmured hopefully.

"Let you?" she asked as her eyes popped open in amazement. She hugged him again, and he pressed his face against her neck with a sigh of relief.

"Padme, this is all I've ever wanted," he told her shakily, kissing the smooth curve of her skin. He closed his eyes. "You and I, right here, it's all I've ever--what?"

"They're waiting for you," she said, stiffening against him.

"What…? Who?" he asked, pulling away to frown down at her in concern.

"You--you said this in my nightmare. The very first one, before Kamino," she explained, breaking the embrace and turning back toward the couch. "Except it was different. You came here to change your clothes…it was all different, it was happy, at least until…"

"Until what?" he asked, following her inside. He frowned as he did so, sensing another presence, or at least an echo. It was unmistakably familiar and yet completely alien.

"Anakin," she said as her shoulders began to shake.

He came up behind her, sliding his hands over them, holding her gently against himself. "He was here, wasn't he?"

"He must have come yesterday, after Ani and I left with Bail," she said.

"I have to go to Mustafar after him," he said. "He's in grave danger."

"From the Sith?" she asked.

He took a breath. "From himself. Anakin has turned to the Dark Side."

"No," she jerked away, spinning to face him. "How could you even say that! He's just won the war!"

"He was deceived by a lie. We all were. It appears that the Chancellor is behind everything, including the war. Palpatine is the Sith Lord we've been looking for. After the death of Count Dooku, Anakin became his new apprentice," he said hoarsely.

"Not Anakin! He could never--!" she shook her head, but she sank onto the couch and he knew that she was beginning to understand.

"I have seen a security hologram of him leading the attack on the Temple," Obi Wan said. He slipped down beside her, tears filling his eyes as he said, "Killing younglings."

"Ani," she wept, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, Obi Wan, did he…did he try to _kill_ little Ani?"

"He let Ani go," he replied shakily. "He could have, but he let him go."

"Then--?" she gasped, looking up at him with both confusion and hope.

He reached out to brush her tears with his fingers. "I don't know. But I must stop him one way or another. I had to make sure that you and the twins were safe first. Anakin said that Palpatine knew what you and Bail were planning."

She shook her head. "He may suspect, but he can't prove anything. He has no evidence, and he needs it, at least until his new Empire is more firmly under his thumb. I was supposed to be the visible political enemy. The one who gave Bail and Mon Mothma cover so that they could build their organization. That's why I couldn't go back to the _Tantive_. If I had and Palpatine found out…"

"He'd have found Ani, and he'd have all the proof he needed to act against Bail," Obi Wan closed his eyes. "Padme, I can't leave you here. Yoda is going to face Sidious, but if he fails, any known Jedi collaborators will be killed."

"I'll have to go with you," she said.

_"To Mustafar?_" he cried.

"What choice do we have?" she asked.

"Darling, you don't understand. I--I may have to _kill him,_" he shook his head.

She raised her hand to his cheek. "You could no more kill Anakin than I could. But maybe between the two of us, we can save him."

He cupped her face in his hands and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. "Listen to me. You do exactly as I tell you. Promise."

She nodded.

"No taking chances. No heroics. You must trust me. Trust my judgment," he went on.

"I've trusted you since Tatooine, Obi Wan. That won't change," she replied.

"All right," he kissed her gently, then withdrew, pushing himself to his feet. "Call your security and have them get the ship ready."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I have to get something," he said as he strode purposefully into their son's room. She followed him, watching from the doorway as he took the gleaming box off the shelf and keyed the lock code. For a long moment, he simply stared into it, looking down at the last legacy of the Jedi Order-- a Padawan's braid and a Master's lightsaber. Then he closed the lid and locked it again, returning to his wife. "One way or another, we're not coming back here."

_My feelings tell me that no matter what happens tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or five years from now, you and I will be together. And as long as we are together…_


	57. We Have Nothing To Fear

Darth Vader stood on the command bridge of the Mustafar control center, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and gazed up through the transparisteel view wall at the galaxy that Palpatine had intended to rule. Someone else would have to rule it, he supposed, but at the moment, it was of little consequence. It was of no more consequence, in fact, than the corpse-littered floor upon which he was standing. All that mattered was the betrayal that burned in his gut.

He had gone to Padme before leaving for Mustafar, just as he promised Ani he would. He had intended to take them away, hide them both until the "Emperor" could be dealt with. Palpatine knew that Padme's time was running out; he had promised that once the holocrons were back in the hands of the Sith, he would share Darth Plagueis' secret. He said that only Plagueis himself had ever successfully _created_ life, but Vader didn't care--he didn't need that much--not yet. All he needed for the moment was enough to _keep_ Padme alive. Once he had that knowledge, Sidious would find himself suddenly minus a Empire--of course, he would also be dead, which would effectively negate his need for an Empire anyway. With him dead, Ani would be safe--Padme would be alive--and there _should_ have been nothing else standing between them.

She should have trusted him. She should have waited. Instead, when he arrived at her apartment, he had found it empty. She had even taken Artoo and Threepio. He had wondered for a moment if something had happened to the boy, but he could feel the boy there. Then his presence had begun to fade, growing distant, even unreachable, until he couldn't feel it at all, which meant that she must not have listened to him. She had taken Ani and run. He hadn't wanted to believe that she would run, that she would choose to trust her traitorous friends in the Senate more than she trusted him, but it had to be the truth. Obi Wan, if he survived Utapau at all, could not have made it back so soon. It couldn't have been _him_ who took her away this time.

He would have to deal with the traitors in the Senate, too, he decided. He would deal with all of them, but _especially_ with Organa. It had to have been him who had taken them away. How many times had heard Ani call the man "Uncle Bail"? It made his stomach churn, and over the past several months it had seemed to him that the Kenobis and the Organas had been growing closer, while _he_ was left out in the cold. Now he understood why. Yes, he would deal with Organa, but he thought perhaps he would let Palpatine lay the groundwork after all, let him do the baiting until _all_ of the traitors had been drawn out.

Palpatine had been right, he realized. Killing one traitor was not enough to put down treason. They would have to lay a careful trap and ensnare all the traitorous senators and their allies at once, but he would be sure to have a special death waiting for Bail Organa.

Vader had intended to turn control of the government back over to the Senate once his Master had been relieved of his secrets and his interest is galactic domination. He had discovered, though, that Palpatine had also been right about something else. The Senate itself could not be trusted. Politicians could not be trusted. They turned on one another and those around them as a matter of course, and all their maneuvering for power left nothing but chaos in its wake. The galaxy could not be left to their mercy; it must be safeguarded, held secure for the sake of Ani and Padme's unborn child. All of this had been for them as much as for her, so that they would be safe--so that they would understand who it was who truly loved them. Their father couldn't give them Padme's life; Bail Organa couldn't lay the galaxy at their feet. Only Darth Vader could do that.

He had failed in his first encounter with Sidious because he had not been strong enough or known enough of the ways of the Dark Side, but even now he could feel his power growing. Even now, he could defeat the Dark Lord--all that remained unknown to him was the power to save Padme. Once he had that…

_…you don't need anymore power…_

But he did. To keep them safe, he did. And he _would_ keep them safe.

_I…love… you…._

He froze. The faint whisper he still heard was growing weaker again. Why? He stretched out through the Force, reaching for Ani with his feelings, but found only blackness, and in that blackness, the echo of his nephew became smaller--flickered--slipped away.

_WHY?_

Terror gripped Darth Vader's heart. Fear twisted up inside him again, mocking--cackling in the voice of Palpatine that all he had done had been for nothing. It was all for nothing--because the boy was gone. He was gone, and soon his mother would be as well.

_No!_

A tear slipped down his cheek, hotter than the molten rock which ate the surface of this planet.

_Not--both--of them!_

Rage swallowed fear again. He spun and strode toward the holocomm. He had a report to give Palpatine, and he would find out. The Emperor would be in complete control of Coruscant by now. _He_ would know exactly where Ani and Padme were. And if he had _harmed_ the boy…

But as he dropped to one knee and began his transmission to Coruscant, he pushed all such thoughts away. He pushed them downward, locking them deep within his heart and burying them once again under his hatred, where Palpatine could never find them. Then, as the blue image of his so-called Master appeared, he bowed his head.

"The Separatist leadership is no more, my Master," he said.

_"It is finished, then,"_ smiled Sidious. "_You have restored peace and justice to the galaxy, Lord Vader."_

"That is my sole ambition. Master," he lied. "But I must ask. Have Padme and the boy been found?"

_"Padme was in the Senate this afternoon, Lord Vader. Along with Senator Organa. As to the boy, it appears that he was killed outside the Temple last night,_" replied Sidious.

That news struck Vader like a blow to the stomach, but he kept his head bowed. He grappled with his pain, wrestled it into submission and made it part of the hate that fueled him. "Has the body been found, my Master?"

_"Many bodies were found, my apprentice. Burned or shot beyond recognition--" _Sidious paused, and Anakin looked up to see the blue figure tilt his head. _"Lord Vader--I sense a disturbance in the Force. You may be in danger."_

Through the transparisteel, through the flickering image of Sidious before him, he could see the familiar silvery flash of a Naboo skiff landing outside. He resisted a smile and said only, "How should I be in danger, Master?"

_"I cannot say. But the danger is real; be mindful," _Sidious told him.

"I will, my Master. Thank you," he dipped his head respectfully.

The image of Sidious faded and he got to his feet, a sneer appearing on his lips. "Be mindful, be mindful. Is that the best you can do? I could get that much from Obi Wan. You are the one who should be mindful, my _Master._ I _am_ a disturbance in the Force."

-----

"Remember what I showed you," Obi Wan told his wife from the copilot's seat. "Guard your feelings. If he will not return to the Light Side, he _must_ be made to believe that Ani is dead."

"I know," Padme nodded. She took a breath, and he felt her anxiousness, her fear flow away.

He smiled gently. "Good."

"Let me go out first," she said as the skiff entered the glowing red atmosphere of Mustfar.

"Absolutely not!" he protested. "We go out together."

"Obi Wan, if Palpatine has convinced him that the Jedi are traitors, you're the last person he'll listen to ," she argued.

"What happened to trusting me?" he asked.

"Of course I trust you," she said, resting a hand on his arm. "Now you trust me."

"What?" he frowned.

"Just let me talk to him for a minute--"

"Padme, no," he shook his head. "We said we would do this together, and that's what we're going to do. I am not going to let you go out there and confront a Sith alone."

"I'm not alone. We're always together, that's what you said. Or did you only mean that when _you're_ the one in danger?" she asked.

"This isn't a negotiation. You are my wife, and you are _pregnant_ with my children," he said, calmly but firmly.

"We're talking about Anakin. He wouldn't hurt Ani. I don't believe he'll hurt me, either," she told him.

"What about your nightmare?" he asked.

"You told me once that the dreams only showed possible futures. None of them has ever been like this, not exactly," she replied.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not willing to take that chance," he said.

"Or are you just afraid?" she asked pointedly.

"For you? Yes," he said, holding her gaze. "I have to check in with Yoda. Go wait for me by the ramp, but _promise me_ that you won't go out."

She placed her hand on his cheek and nodded sincerely. "We'll do it together."

He sensed that she meant it. "Thank you."

"I love you, Obi Wan," she smiled as she slid out of her chair.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath. "And I love you, Padme."

He watched her walk out of the cockpit, then reached into his pocket for the comlink. He studied it for a long moment, running his thumb over the familiar shape, wondering suddenly how such a small object could have changed so much--how the simple keying of this comlink had set him on the path to this place and this time. It had taken him from Jedi to lover to husband and father, and now it had taken him back again--no. Not back. He had come full circle, and he was a better man for the journey he had taken. Now it was time to key the comlink again.

In the space of a few seconds, the signal traversed the endless void between Mustafar and Coruscant, and he heard, "_Yes, Master Kenobi?"_

The title took him momentarily by surprise. Then he bowed his head and murmured to his teacher and friend, "We're landing now. Are you in position?"

_"I am."_

A moment of silence.

"Master Yoda... if we don't see each other again—"

_"Think not of after, Obi Wan. Always now, even eternity will be."_

Another moment of silence.

Longer.

"May the Force be with you."

"It is. And may the Force be with you, young Obi Wan."

The transmission ended. He closed his eyes, breathed in the Force and exhaled himself. Centered, empty of desire, empty of fear, empty of all but the current of the Force, part of it and is conduit, Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi rose and walked to the ramp that would take him to meet Darth Vader.

Reaching it, he spoke one word, quietly and desperately. "Padme."


	58. The Death of Hope

Anakin came bounding out of the control center and trotted across the landing deck to meet her, both surprise and joy on his face. "Padme! What are you doing here? Is Ani with you? Is everyone all right?"

"Oh, _Anakin!"_ she exclaimed, flooded with pure relief. Whatever he might have done, he still cared--he was still their Anakin. She raced down to meet him, flinging her arms around his neck.

He hugged her tightly for a moment, then pulled back and gripped her by the shoulders. His face was suddenly dark, his eyes burning with the kind of intensity that she had only seen in her dreams. "Padme. Tell me. Where is little Ani?"

"I--" she stammered with spiking fear and dread.

"It's all right," he said. "Don't you understand? No one can hurt you now. You or little Ani, or the baby. Everything I've done, it's been to protect _you._"

"Anakin…" she could barely force out the whisper.

"_I'm _the one who loves you, Padme. Don't you see? Not Obi Wan. He can't protect you! He can't save you! Only my new powers can do that!" he exclaimed.

"At what cost?" she asked, staring at him in horrified disbelief. "You are a good person. Don't do this! Do you understand what you've done to--"

"What I have done is bring peace to the Republic," he cut her off coldly.

"The Republic is dead," she whispered. "You killed it. You and Palpatine."

"It needed to die," he replied tonelessly.

"What?" she gasped.

"The Republic doesn't matter. All that matters to me is protecting you and the children. And I have. I've given you the galaxy," he said. "Could Obi Wan do that?"

"Anakin, Obi Wan _loves_ you. We _both_ love you. Please, come back! Come back before it's too late. Before…something happens," she pleaded.

"Nothing will happen. Nothing can happen. Let Palpatine call himself Emperor. _Let_ him. He can do the dirty work, all the messy, brutal oppression it'll take to unite the galaxy forever--unite it against him. He'll make himself into the most hated man in history. And when the time is right, we'll throw him down--"

"Anakin, stop--"

"Don't you see? We'll be heroes. The whole galaxy will love us, and we will rule. Together," he said.

"I don't believe what I'm hearing," she said. "Obi Wan is right. You've changed."

"I don't want to hear any more about Obi Wan. The Jedi turned against me. Don't you turn against me," he warned.

"I don't know you anymore. Anakin, you're breaking my heart. We'll never stop loving you, but you are going down a path we can't follow…" she trailed off as he began to stare over her shoulder, a murderous light in his eyes.

"You!" he growled as she felt her husband's presence on the ramp behind her.

"Padme. Move away from him," Obi Wan said.

She slowly backed away, still keeping herself between them. "Obi Wan, wait!"

"Padme, get back to the ship!" he said urgently as his footsteps clanked down the ramp. "He's not who you think he is. He _will _harm you."

"You!" Anakin flung the word at her this time, glaring, his eyes full of hate and pain. "You've betrayed me! You brought him here to kill me!"

"Padme, _get back to the ship!'_

_"No--_Anakin, no, I swear, we--"

"LIAR!"

His hand rose, and Padme clutched her throat, her own dread cutting off her breath even before his Force grip did. She struggled for air, fighting against the blackness that encroached upon her.

"Let her go, Anakin!"

But he didn't.

She felt the battle begin. A battle of wills before their blades even ignited.

"Let her go!"

The grip that held her loosened. She crumpled to the ground, sinking into the blackness around her, welcoming it as her most secret fears were realized. Then she felt his hand, steady and gentle as it had always been. He felt for a pulse, and his lips touched her forehead. In a whisper that held all his years of devotion, all his anguish, all his passion and tenderness, he called her name.

"Padme. Darling, are you all right?"

She stayed.

-----

He kissed her again, feather soft, and then he looked sadly up at the man who had been his friend. "Anakin--Anakin, what have you _done_?"

"You turned her against me!" Anakin spat.

"You did that yourself," the Jedi said sadly.

"I'll give you a chance, Obi Wan. For old times' sake. Walk away," offered Anakin.

"If only I could," he replied.

"Go some place out of the way. Retire. Meditate. That's what you like, isn't it? You don't have to fight for peace anymore. Peace is here. My Empire is peace," Anakin said.

"_Your _Empire? It will never have peace. It was founded on treachery and innocent blood," he replied.

"Don't make me kill you, Obi Wan. If you are not with me, you are against me," declared Anakin.

"Only the Sith deal in absolutes. The truth is never black and white," He rose, spreading empty hands in an age old gesture of peace. "Please. Let me take my wife to a medcenter. She's hurt, Anakin. She needs medical attention."

"She stays," came the flat and icy reply of the Sith.

"Anakin--"

"You don't get to take her anywhere. You don't get to _touch _her anymore. She's mine now, do you understand? It's your fault, all of it--you took her from me, and you made her betray me!" he roared.

"Anakin, she was never yours. She hasn't betrayed you. You betrayed _her. _You betrayed her faith in you," Obi Wan said wearily.

The Sith's reply was to ignite his light saber. Obi Wan Kenobi sighed and raised his own, left only one choice--left no choice at all. "Then I will do what I must."

"You will try," Darth Vader sneered.

-----

_Two blue blades, their hilts held in the hands of men who had been brothers, clashed in the volcanic heat of Mustafar. Death flowed hot all around them, but aboard the Tantive IV, death had already come. It was the death of hope, the death of innocence. Asleep on Coruscant, Anakin Kenobi watched the warriors of light and dark collide._

_They were perfectly matched. After a lifetime of training together, a war fought side by side, they knew each other so well that they had become one being--complimentary halves of a single whole. They were an expression of the intrinsic conflict of the universe itself, but that universe was in upheaval. Here and now, the Force was striving to bring itself into balance. _

_Their weapons flashed. Each sidestepped the other's leaps, each came on with high flying kicks, whirling and slicing through the storm that had become the Force. They parried punches and skipped over ankle sweeps without missing a beat. Yet Obi Wan gave ground with every exchange. He let himself slip naturally onto the defensive. It was his way--the way of a Soresu Master--and it was more. Because although he knew that he must defeat Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker was still his brother, and to strike his brother down would destroy him. _

They fought their way into the control center where consoles exploded in fountains of white-hot sparks. Panels tore free loose and hurtled through the air. Blasters still held in the hands of the corpses on the floor began to fire as Vader used them like puppets to strike at his foe, and the red bolts crackled and sliced through the room, bouncing in intricate patterns of ricochet through which the warriors moved with the elegance and ease that could only come through the Force. Obi Wan deflected the shots back at Anakin, who returned them, and they bounced off the elder's blade again. Back and forth the red bolts fanned between the blue bars of plazma in the hands of Anakin and Obi Wan, until the entire room was enveloped in fog as the blaster shots themselves dissipated into atomic particles.

"Don't make me destroy you, Obi Wan." Darth Vader warned. "You are no match for the power of the Dark Side."

"I've heard that before," Obi Wan said. "but I never thought I'd hear it from you."

In response, a Force wave crashed into Obi Wan, smashing him back into a wall before he could react. Stunned, he struggled for breath as Vader moved in and raised his weapon for a killing strike. The Jedi gently twitched a finger, reaching outward through the Force to reverse the polarity of the electrodrivers in Vader's mechanical hand. The durasteel fingers sprang open, and the lightsaber tumbled free.

Before the Sith could react, Obi Wan called the blade to his own hand and crossed both weapons before him. "The flaw of power is arrogance."

"You hesitate," Vader sneered. "The flaw of compassion--"

"It's not compassion. It's reverence for life. Even yours. It's respect for the man you were," he sighed with profound sadness. "It's regret for the man you should have been."

Rage sent Vader flying toward his former Master. The Force drove Obi Wan back against the wall, and Vader grasped his wrists with enough strength to crush the bones. "I am so _sick_ of your lectures!" he roared as he forced Obi Wan's arms wide.

He could feel his bones being ground in that vice grip of the Force, bending, beginning to break. He stared into the living hate of Darth Vader's eyes and then, simply, as the Jedi he was, let go. He released the weapons. He released his obligations, his attachment to all he loved, and in releasing them, opened himself to the will of the Force, accepting whatever came.

_Ani watched as the lightsabers fell. He saw Vader release one of his father's wrists to reach for his weapon, and as soon as he did, Obi Wan twisted free. The battle was on again, but the battle was over. It no longer mattered who won, because both would lose. Everything that mattered blackened in the volcanic heat of Mustafar as the two combatants fought their way outside. _

_They fought out onto a power conduit no thicker than one of their arms, his father still giving ground with each step, letting Vader drive him back, deflecting his attacks with flawless balance and calm precision. Suddenly, he backflipped away, and the Force carried him onto the side of the main collection plant. Vader leapt in pursuit, and Obi Wan sprang off again. They spun and whirled through the plant up its stairs, and across its platforms. They fought out onto the collection panels over which the cascades of lava poured, and Ani watched in horror as even a rain of white-hot stone didn't give them pause._

This was no longer a battle. It was a war. It was a cataclysmic conflict between two men whose love for one another had been torn and reassembled too many times. It was brother against brother, Anakin against Obi Wan, and it could only end one way, because the universe itself had come to hang in the balance. Yoda was right. The boy that Obi Wan had trained was gone. What remained here now was a thing of rage and hate--a Sith, a murderer, a twisted being who would seek to bow the Force itself to his own will.

…_and yet he spared my son…_

And yet, despite that all he had seen this man to be capable of, Obi Wan could not escape his own feelings. He could not deny the love he still felt, or the hope he held that somewhere--under the putrid, festering open sore that was Darth Vader in the Force, Anakin Skywalker remained.

"I _have_ failed you, Anakin," he said as they stood floating down a river of molten rock, he atop a battered durasteel platform and the Sith balancing on a confused worker droid. "I have. I--"

"Palpatine was right about you. You were plotting against him all the time. Plotting with Yoda and Windu to take over the Republic!" Vader cut him off.

"From the Sith! Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is _evil_," Obi Wan exclaimed.

"From the Jedi point of view! From my point of view, it's the Jedi who are evil!" Anakin yelled back.

"Well, then you _are_ lost!" Obi Wan heard himself say. The words cut him more deeply than he thought they could anymore--because as they fell past his lips, he knew that they were true.

"This is the end for you, my Master. I wish it were otherwise," said Vader in a mock sad tone. He leapt across the lava, flipping himself onto Obi Wan's platform, where the battle resumed. As their weapons clashed again, Obi Wan let his grief slip away. He let his failure go--he let _himself_ go--and pushed himself off the platform, open entirely to the Force, which carried him onto the safety of the black, sandy bank beyond the raging lava flow.

"It's _over_, Anakin. I have the high ground," he yelled back toward the man who had been his brother…and his son.

"You underestimate my power!" Vader shouted back.

"Don't try it," he said, but even as he spoke, he knew that the decision was made. His arm rose without hesitation…

_…and his son could watch because he understood that Obi Wan Kenobi loved Anakin Skywalker, even as Darth Vader fell back down the embankment, nearly rolling back into the burning lava. Vader struggled to pull himself up as his thin leather glove was burned away, but again and again, he slid down the slope._

"You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would, destroy the Sith, not join them! It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness!" he cried.

Turning, he picked up the light saber that had once belonged to Anakin Skywalker, and started up the black slope. A strangled sound called him back. "Obi Wan…?"

He closed his eyes. It took all his will to look back over his shoulder, to see Anakin's twisted, maimed body still worming its way up the impossible embankment. His clothes were beginning to catch on fire. His eyes as Obi Wan met them turned a glowing yellow with rage and hate.

"Are you going to give that to Ani when you tell him that you left me here to die?" he spat.

"My son died in the Jedi Temple last night," he said. "You killed him as surely as if you'd driven this blade through his heart."

"No! You're lying!" Vader rasped. "He was alive when I left him!"

But the words were the absolute truth. As he spoke them, Obi Wan saw a shadow pass overhead and looked up to see a ship he knew too well. Palpatine's shuttle. He raced up the embankment, back to Padme, without looking back. The life or death of Darth Vader, he left to the will of the Force.

"I hate you!" Vader screamed after him.

He kept going, blinded by tears, because he knew that he _must_ reach the skiff before Palpatine landed and discovered it, was what it meant to be Obi Wan Kenobi. To love without thinking of himself, to love and still choose the will of the Force--to chose it because he loved.

_You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you. But I could not save you._


	59. The Last Nightmare

Senator Padme Amidala Kenobi was laid to rest on her home planet of Naboo. Her husband, still a fugitive of Imperial justice, did not attend the funeral. Four months later, hidden on Alderaan, her son Anakin celebrated his fifth birthday. Many of the people he loved were there--many, but not all. He left the party and wandered out onto one of the many balconies, where he stood staring out at the mountains. The sun was beginning to set, and Ani made himself remain completely still, watching it even though he didn't _like_ sunsets anymore. He never would, but Yoda had said that he must face his fears, and face them he would. He had seen what fear could do--fear killed. More than anything else, fear killed.

Sunsets were not what Ani feared. He was afraid of what lay behind them, the darkness that came when the sun was gone. On Alderaan, though, the setting sun was not like it had been on Coruscant that night. Here, when the sun sank beyond the mountains, there was no death and terror. The Dark Man had not found them, and he was beginning to accept the truth of what Yoda told him--that the Empire would end and light would return to the galaxy.

Yoda had spent the last three months counseling Ani, helping him learn to move past the horrors he had witnessed in the Temple and on Mustafar. With his father's love and understanding, Yoda's patient wisdom, and the constant, enduring presence of Qui-Gon Jinn, he had begun to heal. He was growing and learning, but he still sometimes caught the sad shadow in Obi Wan's eyes, and felt it reflected in his own heart.

He had woken up the day after the Temple massacre on Polis Massa. Uncle Bail had taken him and Yoda there to hide, and his father had soon arrived carrying his mother unconscious in his arms. He blinked back tears at the memory, feeling again the helplessness that crushed his chest. He had still been too wounded. The pain of Anakin Skywalker's betrayal and the images that he had just seen in his dreams were too fresh. The thought of losing her then and there was beyond his power to accept. He hadn't even been able to go up to her…

"Anakin?"

He turned toward the sound of his name and smiled faintly.

The cloaked figure glided out of the shadows, separating itself from them, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing out here, son?"

"Watching the sunset," he shrugged.

Padme pushed back her hood and smiled, her index finger rising to stroke his cheek. "You don't have to, you know."

He rested his cheek against the swell of her pregnancy and hugged her as far as his arms would go. "Yes, I do, Mom. I'm a Jedi."

Her fingers played lightly through his hair. "Like your father before you."

"Luke and Leia will be, too. I saw them," he said. They had been afraid that she would lose the twins on Polis Massa, but she hadn't. The funeral on Naboo had been a ruse designed to prevent Palpatine or Darth Vader from finding her, and it appeared to have worked. The day was coming, though, less than a month away, when they might, in fact, lose her for real. He did his best to accept that, only because he had seen what might happen to those around him--to his father--if he did not, but it wasn't easy. For Padme, thought of leaving her family was even more difficult, and Ani hoped that knowing the twins would be all right might bring her some comfort.

"Did you have another dream?" she asked.

He nodded. "I saw Anakin, too. Anakin and Obi-Wan. They're going to be brothers."

Padme wrapped her arms around him, hugging him with all her strength. "I know you miss your uncle, Ani. It's all right to miss him. Letting go doesn't have to mean you don't miss someone. It just--means that you accept what you can't change."

"Nobody will remember my uncle," he sighed sadly. "Nobody will remember that he saved me."

Padme didn't speak for several heartbeats. Then she murmured quietly, "I'll remember, Ani."

"There's still good in him," he said, closing his eyes.

"I know there is," she murmured.

He nodded, accepting her promise, and held the silence between them. He didn't know how much longer she would be here this way, and he wanted to remember this, to remember her arms, her voice, the warmth and gladness of this moment. Then he opened his eyes, realizing that there was something else he could do--a promise he could give his mother as well.

"I won't leave you, Mom," he said.

"What?" Padme asked, startled.

"When Yoda leaves after the twins are born. He wants me to go to Dagobah, but I won't go. I'm staying with you and Dad," he promised.

Although he didn't look up, he felt her smile. "I won't leave you either, Ani."

"I hope not…" he whispered, straightening suddenly as he began to feel a stirring in the Force. "Mother, sit down."

She blinked in surprise, but in the space of another second, her face became as pale and pasty-white as Anakin's had been in the Council Chamber three months ago. Ani wasted no time telling her again. He grabbed her arm, led her quickly to the wooden bench in the center of the curving veranda, then raced inside.

He could already hear the clatter of pounding footsteps racing toward them. In the polished, ornate hallway, he rounded a corner and skidded to a halt in front of his father and Bail Organa. Queen Breha was only a few steps behind, and somewhere beyond her, Ani could hear the tapping of Yoda's cane as it moved along behind them. The imperturbable calm of the great Master did little to reassure the boy, who looked anxiously up at the two men in front of him.

"Dad--?" he left the question unspoken, but he couldn't keep the plea from his voice.

Obi Wan touched his shoulder and then slid past him onto the balcony, returning a moment later with Padme in his arms. "It's time."

-----

"It's too soon," Ani whispered faintly.

"Trust in the Force, young Anakin. Begin in their proper time, all things do…and end," said Yoda, but the venerable old Master's voice was deeply sad.

"Yes, Master Yoda," the boy bowed his head, a gesture that was probably meant to hide tears as much as it was a show of respect.

Obi Wan didn't bother hiding his. He reached out, drawing his son gently against his side as he stared through the observation window. A hand rose to cover his lips, and his mind echoed Ani's whispered plea.

_It's too soon!_

They had already planned a surgical delivery for the twins. Vaginal birth was simply too dangerous. They had planned everything, down to the exact minute that labor would begin. This was why they had chosen to remain on Alderaan despite the fact that Vader and the Emperor had already begun scouring the galaxy, determined to hunt down and exterminate the last of the Jedi. It would have been safer for both himself and Yoda to have left this planet already, so that if the Emperor located them, Bail and Breha were not arrested as Jedi collaborators, but Padme needed reliable medical care, so they had agreed to wait, trusting in the Force to keep them hidden. Now, it was happening too quickly, as if the Force itself was striving to push Luke and Leia from the womb, and Padme's body was losing the struggle.

_All things begin in their proper time._

"Dad, I'm scared…"

_…and end._

"So am I," he replied, bending to lift his son into his arms. "Come on."

"Where?" Ani frowned.

"We're going to help her, if we can. If not…she'll know we're with her," he said, turning quickly to exit the observation room and slip inside the surgical theater.

"Obi Wan…?" she reached weakly for him as they approached the table, and he gave his hand, squeezing her fingers.

"We're here with you, darling," he murmured.

Another contraction came, and her fingers clamped down on his. Ani slid to the ground as her back arched, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight against her agonized scream. A pair of 21B surgical droids were assisting with the labor while a third, a general medical droid was, moving among the scanners and equipment, monitoring both mother and children. Ani turned, focusing his attention on their movements until Padme's pain faded and she collapsed back against the pillows behind her.

"Can't you help her?" he asked the med-droid.

"All organic damage has been repaired. This system failure seems to be caused by loss of blood. She is extremely weak," explained the droid as it checked another readout.

Obi Wan leaned over her, brushing her hair back. She was drenched in perspiration, but her skin was cold, clammy. Too cold. "Don't give _up_, Padme!" he said urgently.

"Obi Wan…are they…here?" she gasped.

"Not yet. Soon. Padme, hold on. You _have _to hold on," he told her.

Ani circled around to the other side of the table. He shot a questioning look toward Obi Wan, who nodded encouragingly. Then he leaned in to press his lips against her cheek. "Mom, remember, you have to stay with us. You promised."

The room around Obi Wan blurred with tears. She smiled wanly up at their son, and then her face contorted with pain again. She screamed. Wide eyed, Ani gripped her other hand.

"Oh, oh, oh _no_..."

The scream tore through Obi Wan as it rang in through the theater. He leaned over her again, holding her gaze. "Padme, it's almost over! You have to stay _with_ us."

"I can't," she gasped, falling back again.

"Padme, please," he squeezed her limp fingers again. "Hold my hand. Don't let go."

Then he felt a ripple in the Force and turned toward the droids. Ani released his mother's hand and moved toward the end of the table, where after a few tense minutes, one of the droids circled out, cradling in its padded arms a tiny infant, swabbed clean and breathing, but without even the hint of tears.

"It's a boy," the droid announced. It carried the baby over to his waiting father, who took him with shaking hands.

It seemed to Obi Wan as he looked down at Luke for the first time that they already knew one another. In a sense, they did. This moment was the realization of a bond already formed between them. It was as powerful and profound as that which he shared with Ani, and yet…different. He touched it, let himself flow through it, and felt hope burgeon in his heart again.

_Hello, son,_ he thought with an inward smile as he brought the baby to Padme.

She reached weakly to touch his forehead. "Luke…"

"And a girl," said the second droid.

Ani looked on hopefully, and Obi Wan smiled. "Take your sister, Ani. Take Leia."

The droid took a moment to show him how to hold the infant correctly and be sure that her head was properly supported, then rolled along behind him as he carried her to their mother. Padme smiled again, her voice now barely more than a whisper as she spoke her daughter's name.

"Leia…"

She fell back against the pillows again, and her eyes slid closed. Her weariness was palpable to Obi Wan, like a heavy wet blanket suffocating her and soaking up her strength. Ani's head shot up in alarm, and the proud smile on his lips instantly crumbled.

"Padme, they're here. We have twins. They _need you_, darling, you have to hang on!" he said desperately.

"Anakin…" she turned, fighting with the last of her strength to reach for their oldest child.

"Here, Mom," he sobbed, shaking his head even as her fingers brushed his cheek.

"Save your strength," Obi Wam murmured.

"I can't. Ani, the…the nightmare…"

"I know," he nodded.

"Take care of them…take care of…Dad…"

"I will--but Mom, you promised!" he looked helplessly toward his father.

"He's right. We all promised, Padme, all of us--and we're all here together. We _all_ need you," Obi Wan pleaded.

"Obi Wan…I love you…"

Carefully shifting Luke, Obi Wan took her hand again. "Padme. Listen to me. Just squeeze my fingers. Come on, I know you can do it."

Faintly, almost imperceptibly, he felt her fingers tighten on his.

Closing his eyes, he nodded and whispered, "That's it. Now, _don't let go."_

"I can't…Obi Wan…I love you…"

"_Always."_


	60. A New Hope

"Leia can stay here with us," Bail offered.

Ani's eyes shot up from their study of the conference table in time to see Breha Organa nod agreement. "Since we lost our baby, we've been talking of adopting a girl. No one would have to know who she is. No one would know she isn't ours. She'd be safe."

He stared in disbelief, then gave his head a quick negative shake and turned to look at his father. Obi Wan seemed on the verge of nodding agreement. "You can't…!" he said, then bit his lip and lapsed back into apologetic silence.

"She'll be loved with us," promised Bail.

"With me to Dagobah, young Anakin may come," said Yoda. "His training I will continue there."

Ani held back a sigh. Dream images flashed through his mind again--images of a red lightsaber and a man he now knew as Darth Vader. He didn't close his eyes or resist them, even when the shouting began. This was the last nightmare--the nightmare that he had sworn to his mother that he would protect them from.

_I'm not leaving you!_

He was a Jedi. It didn't matter that he was five years old, or that he hoped never to have to set foot in the temple on Coruscant again. He was a Jedi as his father was, as his brother and sister would be, and a Jedi served the will of the Force.

_Run, Luke!_

He didn't allow himself to think about what would happen if he wasn't there. Qui-Gon had already told him many times that his focus should be on the present. The future was still only a place of possibility. He would have to trust the Force to protect his father, to get him there in time. To do anything else would bring him dangerously close to the path of the Dark Side, and that was a place he could not go.

Obi Wan scrubbed his face with his hands. "I suppose…I could take Luke with me, then. But I cannot make these decisions without Padme."

The rest of the group nodded agreement, and Obi Wan closed his eyes. "She's awake, I think. There really is no sense in waiting."

"Await your return here, we will," murmured Yoda.

Obi Wan bowed respectfully, giving no hint of the anguish he felt, but Ani knew. He slid to his feet and hurried out of the conference room. Outside, he found his father leaning against the whitewashed wall of the medcenter, furtively wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"Dad?" he swallowed hard.

Obi Wan held out his hand, and Ani took it, then impulsively wrapped his arms around his father's waist. He buried his face in the Jedi's robe. Obi Wan held him, stroking his hair and then slid solemnly down on one knee. "I don't want to do this, Ani, and I know you don't want to go with Master Yoda," he began.

"But you're going to make me?" Ani asked.

Obi Wan smiled sadly. "I can't make you. I can only ask."

"Why can't we all stay together?" he asked.

"Because. It's safer this way. If Vader or the Emperor finds some of us, they won't have found all of us. There will still be a chance, a way to stop the Emperor if we're all patient and careful," explained his father.

"But I promised Mom I'd take care you," he protested.

Obi Wan's smile only grew sadder. "Sometimes we can best serve those we love by letting them go. The Force will take of me, and you will make me proud. You always have."

"Yes, sir," he sighed.

Obi Wan kissed his forehead, then looked deeply into his eyes. "The Force will be with you, son. Always."

-----

Obi Wan and Ani slipped quietly into the room and Padme looked up from the infant Leia with a joyous smile--the first one she'd felt since before the twins were born. That smile crumbled at her husband's expression, at the growing sadness she could feel in her son.

"How are you feeling?" Obi Wan asked as he crossed the room.

"I'm fine," she replied. He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and she turned into the touch, letting her eyes slide closed.

Ani walked over to Luke, who was asleep beside bed, and peered down at him with a mix of solemn dignity and puzzled curiosity. "Hey, Luke…Luke!"

"Ani, don't wake your brother," Obi Wan said automatically.

It was already too late. Luke gave a soft gurgle in response, but Ani bit his lip. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he said, "Sorry. Hey, Luke…go back to sleep now, okay?"

Obi Wan sighed and bent to kiss Leia, then lifted her from her mother's arms. He looked down at her with such profound weariness and grief that any trace of amusement Padme might have felt at their oldest child's antics melted away.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We've…been discussing what's going to happen now," he said slowly.

"And…?" she frowned. She knew that he and Yoda felt it would be best if they parted ways, so that if one of them were discovered, the other might not be. She was also aware that Yoda had expressed interest in taking Ani into hiding with him, but she and Obi Wan had _both_ agreed that such a decision could be his alone, and Ani had already made his feelings clear.

"We…think it would be best if the children were separated," he said.

"What????" Padme whispered fiercely, staring at her husband in disbelief.

"Darling, it's for their own protection. Yoda still wants to take Ani with him. Bail and Breha have offered to let Leia stay here--raise her as their own. She would become the next Queen of Alderaan after Breha--"

"I don't _care!_" Padme cut him off, barely managing to keep her voice down. Both of the twins whimpered anyway, and tears stung her eyes. "She is _my daughter."_

"I think you should stay here with her. Alderaan is safe, you could nurse her. Later be her governess, or--"

"And what about Luke?" she demanded.

"He'd come with me," Obi Wan said quietly. "It's the best way to be sure they survive."

"No, it's the best way to be sure the _Jedi Order _survives," she narrowed her eyes at him.

He closed his eyes. "The Jedi Order is gone. The last of us are already being hunted. If the children are discovered, they'll be killed--or worse. Apart there's a chance at least _one _of them can be kept hidden."

"No," she shook her head tearfully. "No, Obi Wan. We're a family. We belong together. You promised me that. You said that when the war was over, we would all be together."

"Padme, things are different," he said bleakly.

"I can see that," her voice broke and she lowered her gaze as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn't look at him, only watch as the tiny droplets fell on the stark white of the sheet on her bed.

"_This is the last thing I want,_" he whispered.

"I don't believe what you're asking me," she shook her head, still not looking up as the tiny dark spot on the sheet widened. She watched it, focusing her attention on the way it changed and spread as each new tear soaked into it. "To send Ani away, to let you take Luke and hide away where I'll never see you, never _know_ my own son--to stay here and watch Leia call another woman mother?"

"It's the safest way," entreated Obi Wan. Now the twins were crying in earnest, despite his and Ani's attempts to comfort them.

Padme grasped the hand rail on the side of her bed and pulled herself up, then leaned over to take Luke, rocking him against her breast. Once he was quiet, she looked sharply up at his father. "But it's not the _right_ way. Stop thinking like a Jedi for a minute…"

"I _am_ a Jedi," he reminded her miserably.

"You're also the man I love," she said. "Where is he? Where is my husband? Where is my friend?"

"I'm right here. I'm the same man I've always been!" he insisted.

"No you're not. My husband--_my_ Obi Wan would not abandon his wife and children," she declared.

"I'm not _abandoning_ you, Padme," he shook his head, still keeping his voice a rough whisper as he rocked and shushed Leia. "I love you. Everything I've done has been to protect you."

"That's exactly what Anakin said," she told him quietly.

He jerked his head up from their daughter, eyes widening with shock. "What?"

"You told me once never to let fear rule my actions, that fear was a path to the Dark Side. What are you doing now, Obi Wan? If we let Palpatine destroy this family because we're afraid of what _might_ happen, then he's already won," she said.

He shook his head. "Nothing can destroy this family, darling. We are together, no matter where we are."

"And that's it?" she asked.

He sighed heavily and slid down on the bed beside her, making a silent beckoning motion with his head for Ani to join them. The boy slid onto his knee, and Obi Wan looked down at him for a minute, then let his gaze linger on Leia, pass up to Luke, and finally settle on Padme's face.

"Padme, you and the children mean everything to me. I never thought I could say that, never thought that there could be anything or anyone so important to me. You're important enough to me that I can leave you, because I know that only by leaving you can I be in a position to someday help end Palpatine's tyranny. Wasn't it the same thing when you told Bail to vote _for_ the Empire? When you were willing to risk being arrested on Coruscant to keep Ani safe?"

"What happened to needing me?" she wept.

"I need you safe," he said gently.

"Where--where are you going to take him?" she asked through her tears.

"I thought…Tatooine? It's…it's far enough on the Outer Rim to be safe, and we can easily stay hidden," he smiled faintly. "And it seemed fitting somehow--bringing our son there."

Padme closed her eyes, wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, and drew in a shaky breath. Then she swallowed and looked at him again with a tremulous smile. "Beru and Owen. They'll help you, I know they will."

-----

"You may hear... disturbing things... about what I do in the Senate," Bail said as the speeder approached the landing platform where the _Tantive IV _waited to take the last of the Jedi into exile. "I must appear to support the Empire, and my comrades with me. It was Padme's idea, actually, and she is a shrewder political mind than I'll ever be."

In the back seat with her husband, Padme allowed a faint smile, then stared down at her infant son through a sheen of tears. Obi Wan leaned toward her, pressing his lips to her neck. He let his mouth slide upward, over her cheek, and then rested against her ear for a moment before whispering, "I'll talk to you later, Your Highness."

She let out an involuntary laugh, and the sound became a sob. Leaning her head against his, she struggled to maintain some semblance of control. She reminded herself for what had to be the millionth time in the last three days that it _wasn't_ just a silly joke anymore It was a promise. They had arranged an annual rendezvous at Mos Eisley between Obi Wan and Captain Antilles, a small concession to a mother's empty arms, a wife's longing. She _would_ see her son grow up, even if only in tiny holodisk snippets. She _would_ hear her husband's voice again. With a deep breath, she forced her attention back onto to Bail's voice and felt the tears fade, felt the heartache and loss recede again.

"Please trust that what we do is only a cover for our true task. We will never betray the legacy of the Jedi. I will never surrender the Republic to the Sith," he finished as the speeder came to a halt.

"Trust in this, we always will," said Yoda gravely. "Now disappear, we all must, until the time is right."

The small group piled out of the speeder, Yoda and the Organas moving off toward the _Tantive's _lowered ramp to allow the Kenobis a last moment together. Fighting his own tears, Obi Wan knelt beside little Ani, cradling his infant daughter in his arms.

"Say goodbye to Leia, Anakin," he said solemnly.

Ani sniffled and bent to kiss the baby, then paused and lifted something from around his neck--something Obi Wan recognized even in the shadows around them as Padme's japor necklace. "This is yours now, Leia. It will bring you good fortune."

"Do you want to hold her for a moment?" he smiled.

Ani nodded, and he carefully laid the baby in her brother's arms, studying her, drawing the image into his mind and letting it imprint itself upon his memories. After a long moment, he bent to brush his lips against her forehead, allowing a wordless cascade of his hopes and devotion to wash over her. _Always remember, I love you,_ he said silently, and though she wouldn't remember the words, he hoped that some part of her would retain an echo of the feeling they were meant to impart.

Then he pushed himself to his feet and stepped over to Padme, resting his forehead against hers. He would never know afterward how long they stood that way, unmoving, simply breathing each other, as Luke lay in his mother's arms between them. It seemed endless, eternal--and it was over before a single breath had passed his lips. His chest ached heavily, as if something had physically reached inside it raked his heart to shreds, leaving behind a cavernous hole at the bottom of which lay a raw, throbbing mass of flesh which weighed at least five times what it should.

As he kissed her, he wished that he could swear it wouldn't be the last time--that somehow, before all of this was over, they would see one another again, hold one another again, but he knew that he could make no promises. So, as the kiss ended, he cupped her face in his hands and said the only thing he could, the only thing that mattered.

"I love you. Always have."

"Since Tatooine," she whispered, managing a faint but genuine smile.

He forced an answering one to his own lips, then lifted Luke into his arms and took a step back. Padme hurried over to Ani, falling to her own knees to embrace him. Watching, Obi Wan was struck with the incongruous thought that it should be raining.

_Pouring,_ he corrected himself. _It should be pouring._

_This is a mistake, my young apprentice, and you very well know it,_ spoke a familiar voice behind his left shoulder.

He closed his eyes, somehow not at all surprised that this would be the moment when Qui-Gon finally chose to speak with him. _What else am I to do?_ he asked.

_What does your heart tell you?_ his Master responded.

_I don't have a heart left,_ he sighed.

_Yes, you do, Obi Wan, but you're afraid to use it_, Qui-Gon replied.

Obi Wan bowed his head. There was no reply he could give that wouldn't shatter the tenuous control he was maintaining on his own emotions. Ever since he'd returned to Coruscant and learned that Qui-Gon had been watching over his son, he had longed to speak with his friend and former teacher. There were countless things he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask, but he had put these things from his mind as was required of a Jedi and became content to wait until Qui-Gon felt the time was right. Now that the time had come, it seemed that his Master wanted to pick up an old debate. He wasn't sure whether to be irritated or amused.

In the end, he chose to be neither. He waited until Padme had gotten to her feet again, and watched her cradle Leia against her breast. Inhaling deeply, he crossed the few feet between them and kissed both wife and daughter again. Then he led Ani to the ship and followed Yoda up the ramp without looking back.

Qui-Gon, however, wasn't finished with him. _You told her that you were going to find out what it meant to be a Jedi _and_ her husband, but now you're afraid. You think it was your love for her that led you to fail with Anakin._

_No, I think it was my attachment to Anakin,_ he replied as he followed Yoda up the stark white corridor away from the landing ramp. _My love for Padme is what taught me that a Jedi can love and yet choose to do his duty. I didn't do my duty with Anakin, I let my caring for him blind me. I made excuses for both of us. I won't do that again._

_So now you'll let your duty blind you to the leading of the Living Force,_ Qui-Gon said.

_What?_

_This was always the way with you, my Padawan. You are so concerned with concerns on a galactic scale, with your duties and obligations, that you neglect the needs of individuals--or of families,_ Qui-Gon told him.

_It is the Jedi way, Master,_ Obi Wan reminded him.

_The Jedi Way is not the only way,_ said Qui-Gon.

_I don't know any other,_ replied Obi Wan.

_Yes, you do. Obi Wan, life is not static. Even the Force ebbs and flows. The Jedi have failed against Darth Sidious because the Jedi have not changed. The Sith have learned to adapt, to change themselves in order to exist in a changing galaxy. And yet for a thousand years, the Jedi Order has remained exactly the same. It has become rigid, and what is rigid can be easily broken. Jedi training is not the only source of self-discipline; Jedi teaching is not the sole source of wisdom or skill in the Force. The Living Force guided you to Padme, gave you sons and a daughter so that you might learn to grow beyond what the Jedi Order could teach you--so that when the time came, they would be prepared to do what you or I could not. You have much to teach them; you have as much to learn from them and from Padme, as she has much to learn from you,_ said Qui-Gon.

"Wait…" Obi Wan said aloud. Ani, Bail, and Yoda turned puzzled expressions on him. He turned to look over his shoulder, where he found Qui-Gon still patiently waiting and watching. Beyond him, the ramp was retracting in preparation for liftoff. "_Wait!"_

_Master, what should I do?_ he asked.

_You have grown so much,_ Qui-Gon said. _Don't throw away all you have learned these last six years. There is a place in the life of one who serves the Force for both love and duty._

He swallowed hard. "I can't. I can't do this, Master Yoda. I'm sorry. It was the will of the Force which brought Padme and I together. I still don't entirely know what that means, but I know that I must trust in the Force to keep our children safe. As long as we are both alive, we belong together."

Yoda studied him quietly for a moment, then surprisingly only nodded. "Teach them well, you can, Obi Wan. Confidence in you, I have always had. When the time is right, perhaps the Living Force will bring young Anakin to me on Dagobah."

Ani's eyes widened. "You mean I don't have to go with you, Master? I mean…"

Yoda regarded him with a merry twinkle in his eye. "No, young one. With your father, you may stay."

"Thank you!" Ani exclaimed, dashing forward impulsively. He slid to his knees, wrapping the ancient Jedi in a tight hug.

Whatever Yoda said in reply was muffled against the boy's chest. Bail and Obi Wan struggled valiantly not to laugh, and the Senator turned to the Jedi with a grin. "Perhaps I could hold Luke for you."

"Yes--thank you," Obi Wan nodded, quickly shifting his son into his friend's waiting arms.

Then he spun and dashed back down the ramp, his boots clanging loudly against the metal as he rushed onto the landing platform. Padme and Breha were already climbing back into the speeder, but she suddenly stopped, spinning around even before he called her name.

"Obi Wan???"

"Padme!" he raced up to her, gripping her urgently by the shoulders. "Padme, come with me!"

"But what about--"

"I was wrong," he shook his head. "It was a mistake, I'm sorry. Please, come with me to Tatooine--you me and the children, together."

She was already nodding. When he kissed her this time, her face was still wet with tears, but they were tears of joy. The eternity of the moment now held the promise of a lifetime to come, and they stood lost in each other, oblivious to even their daughter between them. The Force itself seemed to resonate with that promise, and the promise became the kiss--as unbreakable and binding as the love which had drawn them together, all those years ago on Tatooine.

On the landing ramp of the _Tantive IV_, Yoda, Bail Organa, and Anakin Kenobi stood watching. The venerated Jedi leaned on the top of his cane, hands folded over it, with just the hint of a smile on his face. The Senator grinned with unabashed pleasure and turned to lay the infant Luke in his brother's arms.

Ani looked from his brother to their parents and back again, a small sigh escaping his lips. "Just wait, kid. This is nothing."


	61. Into The Desert

Chapters 61-70 take place between the PT and OT eras. They begin when the twins are four. Where possible, I referenced material either from ANH or from Shmi Skywalker's journal as written in _Tatooine Ghost_ by Troy Denning in an effort to create a childhood experience on Tatooine that felt "genuine".

See my author page for the full disclaimer and info.

------

At the edge of the Western Dune Sea, high enough above the rolling sands to afford a good view of approaching vehicles and far enough back to avoid being assailed by a constant curtain of blowing grit, there was dwelling that would have made an excellent hiding place. A hermit's hut, however, was no place to raise children, even on Tatooine. Jedi training was entirely another matter. This could not be done openly, and so it seemed that the Force had provided a sanctuary for the legacy of the Jedi Order.

Yet, when Lila Kenobi had asked her husband Ben whether it might not be prudent to change the children's names, he had given a gentle smile and told her that sometimes it was best to hide in plain sight. After some consideration, she decided that he was right. As precocious as five year old Ani was, it would have been too easy for the boy to slip in public--either by not responding quickly enough when addressed by an unfamiliar name or by accidentally introducing himself as Ani. Anakin Kenobi had died in the massacre at the Jedi Temple; his mother had died not long after that and her unborn "child" with her. Darth Vader was scouring the galaxy for a lone Jedi named Obi Wan, not a husband and wife with three children, and if need be, there were Force techniques which could help them all avoid detection. She had seen them at work on their first few days here, and although she was far from having her husband's unerring and complete trust in the Force, she more than trusted _him._ So it was as much because of her trust in his abilities as because the house was cramped that Padme conceived a plan. That plan was implemented largely by Beru Lars not long after Ben Kenobi had taken his family into the desert, and with both Obi Wan and Owen were left pleasantly unaware that they had had absolutely no say in the matter from the beginning.

The house in the Jundland Wastes would be kept as a place to conduct the secret training of the Kenobi children in the ways of the Force. However, beyond the south range of the Lars Homestead, at the edge of the sand berm that separated the moisture farm from the vast sea of sand beyond, there now huddled a dwelling which, among the few who cared to know, was said to belong to Beru's stepsister and her husband. It was also said that Owen Lars and Ben Kenobi maintained a rocky but passable imitation of friendship for the sake of their wives.

The story went that Beru had finally managed to convince Owen to allow the Kenobis to live on the farm by reminding him their three children would eventually grow into both free and reliable labor which would not require the same upkeep that droids would. The fact was, of course, that Owen might have objected that children were more trouble than droids and that the Kenobi kids were far too young yet to be any help on a moisture farm. He didn't, though, and this was largely the point in the story where listeners began to smile--because they knew that beneath the farmer's gruff surface lay a man as deeply caring in his own way as the quiet and thoughtful Ben Kenobi.

So it was that the two men played a carefully constructed game, as much with themselves as with each other. Owen complained that Ani spent too much time following his father around and talking nonsense, Luke was a loafer already at four years old, and Leia _never_ did as she was told. Obi Wan countered that all three of his children spent far too much time slaving about the farm rather than attending to the lessons he was trying to teach them and _none _of them ever listened to him anyway. Whether either man actually believed what they were saying remained to be seen, but it was certainly the case tonight.

Nine year old Ani, having spent the day helping Owen with farm chores, had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, where he had insisted upon waiting for his father to return from Mos Eisley. Luke was asleep in bed, utterly oblivious as his twin sister slipped out the room across the hall. Dressed in a hooded cloak, Leia and tiptoed through the kitchen past their elder brother and stepped outside, taking a moment to scan the desert before she set out. Her father was late. Her father was _never late._

_-----_

As the little girl left the house, a shadow was already moving across the desert. Its face could not be seen, but it strode over the sands with swift purpose. Tatooine throbbed with a danger that seemed to grow with each exhalation of its breath, but concealed under a dark cloak of his own, the traveler was not afraid. He was well acquainted with the many perils of this planet, and he had come a long way. He was almost home now, and in the distance, he could sense a familiar presence.

He paused, lifting his head in surprise. No one should have been awake at this hour, no one should have ventured out after dark. Padme would know better than to allow it. Could something have happened to her? He felt a moment of panic--but no. The Emperor didn't know where the little family had been hiding. He didn't know anything. There it was again, coming closer. Ani? He stood utterly still, taking in the Force with each breath, searching…

No, not Ani.

He started to move again, faster now.

Around him there was only the rounded tops of windblown sand dunes. They became a blur as he moved past them at a full out Force run, and he barely felt the impact of his boots on the desert floor with each step. Nearby, some animal began to howl, and he felt a spiking fear that was not his own. His hand dropped automatically toward the lightsaber at his belt, and the Force carried him effortlessly to the top of the dune that separated him from the girl.

"Leia!" Obi Wan threw back his hood. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you," she replied.

"Well, you've found me," he leapt down beside her and resisted a smile as he swept her into his arms. "And you know better than to come out of the house at night."

"You were out here," she pointed out.

"I'm bigger than you," he said.

"You said size didn't matter," she reminded him.

He sighed. "Of all the things I have ever told you, why is that the only one you remember?"

"Because it's true," she replied.

"Everything I tell you is true," he said, giving her cheek a peck as he started to carry her back toward the house.

She wiped her cheek with her hand, giggling. "Your beard tickles."

"Does it? I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Maybe you should shave," she suggested.

"Well, what would you have to complain about if I did?" he asked.

"I'd think of something," she shrugged.

"I'm sure you would," he replied.

"Why were you late?"

"My contact from Alderaan was late, that's all," he explained.

"Dad, why don't we _fight_ the Empire? Why do you and Uncle Bail sneak around?" she asked.

"We will fight, when the time comes, Leia. For now we must be patient. We must trust in the Force and keep hidden. You and your brothers must learn your lessons well so that you will be able to help us," he said.

"But when will the time be right?" she wanted to know.

"I don't know. When the Force tells us it is," he said.

"I want to do something now," she told him.

"You are doing something. What you learn now will be the difference between victory and defeat later," he said.

"It takes too long this way," she replied.

"A Jedi must put aside impatience and the desire for revenge. They will cloud your mind and defeat you before even begin. The Jedi alone cannot win this battle. There are too few of us, and the Emperor already has control of the galaxy," he explained.

"But how can we ever get strong enough then?" she frowned. "We don't have an army, just a bunch of Kenobi people."

"The Jedi had an army before and we lost," Obi Wan said with a shrug. They were reaching the house, and he paused at the edge of the berm, turning again to look out at the stars that pricked the blackness of the Tatooine sky. "This time, instead of only focusing on making ourselves stronger, we're to make the Empire weaker before we begin."

"How?" her frown deepened in confusion. "Oh, I know. With the Force."

"No," he laughed ruefully. "With politics."

"I think you've been spending too much time with Mommy," Leia declared.

He blinked. "Uh…what?"

"You're starting to sound like a Naberrie," she told him.

"Oh. Well, I suppose I could go spend more time with your Uncle Owen, but then he'd throw us all off the farm," Obi Wan said dryly.

"No, he wouldn't. Then he wouldn't have any free labor," Leia shook her head.

"You're absolutely right," Obi Wan said, turning again to duck inside the house. "How did you get so smart?"

"Mommy," Leia replied.

"Of course," her father nodded.

Still holding her, he walked into the kitchen, and a grin spread across his face at the sight of his oldest child asleep at the table. He shifted Leia as he walked up to the table, freeing one arm to give Ani's shoulder a gentle shake.

"Dad?" Ani jumped awake, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

"Shh," Obi Wan laid a finger to his lips. "Mom and Luke are still asleep."

Ani nodded quickly and pushed back his chair, half stumbling to his feet. "What happened? You were late," he yawned, then his eyes narrowed at the sight of his sister in a travel cloak. "Were you outside?"

"I went to find Dad," she told him.

"You know you're not s'posed to go out," he reminded her. "It's dangerous, Leia. There's _Sand People_ out there."

"Well, somebody had to go. You were snoring on the table," she retorted.

"Dad can take care of himself," Ani rolled his eyes.

"Then why were you waiting for him?" challenged Leia.

"Cause!" Ani sighed. "He's my dad!"

"Mine too!"

"All right, shh, both of you," Obi Wan said softly, cutting off the argument before it could escalate into a debate about whose father he had been first or second.

"She's still not s'posed to go out there at night," Ani said.

"No, she isn't," agreed Obi Wan. "But your mother and I can deal with that in the morning. Now it's time for bed."

"Yes, sir," Ani sighed, pausing to give his father a hug before he walked off into the room he shared with his brother. He waited until Obi Wan's footsteps had retreated to the far end of the hall and disappeared into Leia's room, then cast a last glance over his shoulder before moving to sit on the edge of his brother's bed. Luke continued snoring, completely unaware of his presence, so he shook the younger boy's shoulder.

"Wha…?" Luke blinked sleepily. "I don' wanna get up, Ani!"

"It's not time to get up," Ani shook his head. "Dad's back from Mos Eisley."

"Oh…" Luke yawned, his eyes already closing again.

"Luke! Dad's home!" Ani repeated.

"Mmm," Luke mumbled, but as he rolled over, Ani could see a happy smile curve his brother's lips. Then, he curled himself into a tight ball and grabbed his pillow, stuffing it over his head to prevent any further disturbance, and all Ani could see was a lump under the blanket.

Ani shook his head and sighed again. "Night, kid."

-----

"Luke…! Luke, come to breakfast!" Padme called again, craning her neck toward the hall where her son had yet to emerge from his room. She set a bowl down in front of her husband and turned, but Obi Wan caught her hand before she could go and wake the boy.

"I'll go," he smiled. "Sit down and eat before it's cold for once."

She smiled gratefully and slid into the seat across from him. Obi Wan pushed back his own chair and started to get up, but before he was fully on his feet, a sleepy voice drifted out to them from the bedroom. Obi Wan sat down again, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Dad…?" Luke called.

"Yes, Luke," he replied.

There was a moment of silence, then a loud thump. A few seconds later, Luke came thundering out of the bedroom. He ran across the kitchen and threw his arms around his father, spent a long minute attempting to strangle him, and then shot an accusing look at Ani and Leia.

"Why didn't anyone wake me up last night?" he demanded.

Ani's response was to cover his face with his hand. He shook his head slowly, sighed, and busied himself eating breakfast. Luke frowned at him, then turned to Leia, who offered her twin a smug grin.

"What…?" he asked.

"I saw him first," she said.

Luke shrugged, then slid into the chair opposite her. He picked up his spoon and immediately went to work on the plate in front of him, mumbling without looking up, "Morning, Mom."

"Good--" Padme started to say.

She broke off as Luke's hand darted up to give Leia's braid a playful yank. She yelped, more out of annoyance than anger or surprise, and the bowl in front of her rose off the table before either parent could open their mouths. It landed unceremoniously on Luke's head, and mushy, half eaten cereal dribbled down his face and onto his shoulders while he sat in shock.

"Whatdidja do that for!" he cried.

"You pulled my hair!" she responded.

"Yeah, but you didn't have to dump _food_ all over me," Luke whined.

"Leia, that's…_not_ funny," Obi Wan spoke up, valiantly attempting to keep his tone appropriately stern. He cast a hopeful look at Padme, who shrugged back with complete aplomb.

"She always manages to see the practical aspects of your lessons," she remarked.

Luke reached up to pull the bowl off of his head, giving a long sigh, and the room exploded with laughter. Watching it all, as he always did, Qui-Gon Jinn could only smile and shake his head. _Yes,_ he told himself. _The Sith will never see this coming. _


	62. The Things We Learn

Bit of a time jump here as I've got a lot of ground to cover. Twins are now 8-9. Hopefully it's not too confusing.

-----

"…not as clumsy or random as a blaster. An elegant weapon, from a more civilized age…"

Anakin Kenobi smiled. He had lost count of how many times that he had heard those words in the past eight years. The twins had heard them just as many, but they didn't mind. At eight years old, Luke and Leia could still listen to Obi Wan prattle and be quite content with the sound of his voice, as long as they could make faces at each other when they thought he didn't see. The familiarity of the routine was almost enough to make Ani forget that these training sessions might soon be coming to an end. Their father laid Qui-Gon Jinn's lightsaber in the thirteen-year-old's hands, then returned to the battered box in which it lay and removed a second one. This one was different; the blade was blue, and the design of the hilt had, in fact, been modeled on the one Obi Wan still carried. He gave this one to Luke, and Leia immediately protested.

"Why does _he_ get Uncle Anakin's?"

"Because," Obi Wan smiled. "You, my darling, get to use mine."

"Oh," she smirked toward her twin, holding out her hands to receive the weapon that their father removed from his belt.

Luke made a face, and Ani hid a smile as Obi Wan called for them both to focus. They made a show of becoming serious again, waiting for him to continue. The morning then became no different from any other one that the three Kenobi kids had spent here. Over the last year or so, Ani had taken on a more official role of leadership, assisting Obi Wan with the twins' instruction here while most of their own work was done at other times, alone or with Qui-Gon. Now as he watched them playing at dodge-bolt, he found his mind drifting.

There were times that the smoke and death stayed on the edges of his memory, only a faint, acrid hint in his nostrils. The air on the roof of the temple had been crisp and clean, and Anakin Skywalker's arms made him feel safe and protected.

_I love you…_

"Ani, focus."

"Yes, Master," he sighed apologetically.

"Thought you weren't s'posed to say Master--ow!" Luke broke off his lapse in concentration allowed a tiny blaster bolt to zap his arm. Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber clattered to the floor and rolled through the dust to bump against the wall.

"Focus," Leia reminded him.

"I _was_ focusing!" Luke insisted.

"Then how come--" she raised her arm and pivoted, bringing her weapon up in a high block that was just a second too slow to avoid being hit as well. She grit her teeth and glared at the remote. "Stupid thing!"

"Let's try something else," Obi Wan sighed.

"Yes, sir," Luke said, walking over to pick up the lightsaber he'd dropped. As he neared it, the weapon rolled away, moving of its own volition back across the floor. He waved a hand and it came back toward him, but was only half way to him when it abruptly reversed direction.

Leia giggled.

"Dad!" complained Luke.

"What…?" Leia asked innocently. "I was trying something else."

"That wasn't what he meant," Luke sighed.

"Leia, that's enough," Obi Wan said, stepping over to pick up Anakin's lightsaber himself. As soon as his back was turned, Luke stuck his tongue out at his twin, but Obi Wan instantly said, "Luke, I see that."

He pulled his tongue back in, staring at their father in astonishment, and Ani lowered his face to his hands, shaking his head in mock-despair. "We're doomed!" he intoned in perfect imitation of C-3P0, though he hadn't seen the protocol droid since both Threepio and Artoo were placed in the care of Raymus Antilles.

The twins turned puzzled frowns on him. Obi Wan grinned, then turned to place the weapon back in its hiding spot. Luke followed, suddenly becoming serious as he watched the Jedi tuck the box back in a crevice in the wall and replace a shelf in front of it.

"Dad, what happened to Uncle Anakin?" he asked quietly.

Obi Wan turned, caught momentarily off guard by the question. He glanced at Ani and then said, "A young Jedi named Darth Vader, who was a pupil of mine before he turned to evil, betrayed the Jedi and would have murdered your brother. Anakin Skywalker died saving him."

Ani ducked his head, slipping outside before further questions could be asked. He leaned against the hot exterior wall of the house, staring off into the desert. Obi Wan came out to him a few minutes later and silently laid a hand on his arm.

He looked down at Qui-Gon's lightsaber, studying the hilt as he asked, "Are you going to tell them the truth?"

"I did," his father said simply.

"The whole truth, Dad," Ani sighed.

"Someday. When they're old enough to understand. For now I want them to know who your Uncle Anakin really was," Obi Wan replied.

Ani nodded, still looking down at the lightsaber, though he didn't really see it anymore. "Dad, I don't want to go."

"Ani, we've discussed this," Obi Wan said.

"I know," he replied.

"You and the twins are to be the foundation of a New Jedi Order. You should all have the benefit of Yoda's teaching and wisdom. Not to mention that I gave him my word," Obi Wan pointed out.

"You gave him your word that you would send me when the time was right," Ani reminded him.

"And?"

"I don't think it is," Ani told him.

"Qui-Gon agrees with me," Obi Wan said.

"I'm not Qui-Gon."

"You are letting your personal feelings--your attachment to your mother and I--cloud your judgment," said Obi Wan.

Ani still didn't look up. "You are my Master, whether I'm _supposed_ to call you that or not. You know I'll do what you tell me."

"I'm not going to force you," Obi Wan sighed. "I just don't understand why you won't go to Dagobah. It would only be for a while. We'd see each other again when your training was complete. Things aren't like they were before. There is no rule that says we can't still be a family. I am a Jedi, and your mother is still my wife."

"My place is here. With you, Mom, and the kids," Ani said.

"Ani, your dreams--your intuitive abilities. Your sensitivity to the leading of the Living Force. These are things Yoda can nurture in you, help you learn to cultivate in ways I simply don't have the skill to do yet, even with Qui-Gon helping me. There is so much Yoda can teach you that I can't."

"Yoda said he had confidence in you," Ani finally turned a smile on the man who would always be both father and mentor to him. "You don't think enough of yourself."

"Perhaps you think too much of me," Obi Wan suggested.

"Then I'll have to be here so the twins can find the middle way," Ani shrugged.

"You argue like a politician," Obi Wan sighed.

"I only know what you've taught me," smiled his son.

"Yes," he said, staring out at the desert. "Which is precisely the problem."

Ani followed his gaze. "Dad, he made a choice. It wasn't your fault--it wasn't your failure. You haven't failed me or the twins, either. You've always done what you had to do. You've never let any of us down."

Obi Wan smiled faintly. "Sometimes it's possible to succeed and fail at the same time."

"Then it also becomes necessary to let failure go," Ani replied.

"Who is the Master and who is the learner?" Obi Wan asked with a chuckle.

Ani's only reply was to offer Qui-Gon's lightsaber back to his father. "This is still yours, if I'm not going."

Obi Wan shook his head. "It was never mine. And you earned the right to carry it long ago. Keep it hidden in public and be careful."

-----

"I still don't like it," Owen groused as he stomped into the kitchen where the nine-year-old twins were helping Padme and Beru sort through a carton of local produce.

"Hey, bristlemelon!" exclaimed Luke, digging down through pallies and podpoppers.

"Let me help!" Leia told him.

"Luke, be careful of the spines," warned Beru. Bristlemelon spines were thick and sharp, needing to be burned off before it could be eaten, but the melon itself was very sweet and both of the twins were partial to it.

"I will, Aunt Beru," he nodded.

"Owen, there are things they can learn on Alderaan that they can't here," Padme said without apology.

"What we have to teach them here has been good enough until now," Owen retorted gruffly.

"Far more than good enough," nodded Padme. "We're very grateful to you and Beru. We only want the best for our children."

"You want, you mean. Ben's content they should stay here," the farmer reminded her.

"It's not like we're going for good, Uncle Owen," Leia spoke up. "And we won't remember anything about anything here until Dad comes for us, so it won't be dangerous."

"Emperor could still find out, little girl," Owen said, pointing a finger at her. "Then what happens?"

"He won't," Leia said flatly.

"Owen, this is Lila and Ben's decision, not ours," Beru spoke up. "Let them make it."

"Would if Ben was making it," Owen grumbled, pushing himself to his feet. He walked off into the interior of the house, and Padme let out a sigh.

Beru gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and smiled. "He doesn't mean it, really. It's just that he'll miss them, and we _will_ worry."

"I know," Padme smiled.

The idea of sending the twins back to Alderaan had been a sore subject on the farm for about a year now. Padme and Obi Wan had started talking about it last year, when Obi Wan decided the time was coming for Ani to go to Dagobah. Padme thought it made even more sense in light of the fact that Ani had changed his mind about going. Passage had already been arranged him aboard a freighter which belonged to a friend of Antilles. That ship had later been scheduled to rendezvous with the _Tantive,_ and Obi Wan could go that far with the twins before he suppressed their memories of Tatooine and made his way back alone. At first, he had resisted the idea, both due to the possible trauma this could cause the twins, and because he felt that they should be devoting themselves to their Jedi training, which would have to be entirely halted while they were away. Leia, at least, had been eager to go despite the risks, and Luke was willing to do whatever his sister suggested they do anyway. Padme pointed out that there were other ways of serving the ideals of the Republic and reminded him that even Qui-Gon had said that Jedi training was not the only thing their children needed. Eventually he had come around, and his change of heart wasn't simple deference to her wishes, despite what Owen was implying. Both of them valued education, and as much as they appreciated everything that Beru and Owen had done for them, they felt that childhood on Tatooine was leaving the twins unprepared to live in a larger galaxy. They wouldn't remain in hiding forever, and when the time came, there were advantages that having spent even a few years on Alderaan could provide.

Bail and Breha had readily agreed, and manufactured a cover story about a former servant of Breha's whose children had been orphaned in the Clone Wars. There were to take in the "orphaned" Luke and Leia until their father was discovered to be alive, at which point they would be sent back to Tatooine where Obi Wan would lift the mental block.

Padme could well understand Owen's discomfort. In the back of her mind, a voice whispered that sending them to Alderaan or anywhere was exactly the kind of separation she had so resisted when they were born. Despite the fact that this _was_ different since it wouldn't be permanent, the entire idea admittedly left an unpleasant taste in the back of her throat. The thought of being away from them for so long--of not even having them remember her--was almost more than she could bear. Yet, she had grown up in a galaxy in which an understanding of interplanetary politics and history was as necessary as food an air. It would have been irresponsible of her to leave her children unprepared for the reality in which they would have to live and work in order to free that galaxy from Palpatine's tyranny.

She didn't expect Owen to agree. The political state of the galaxy meant as little to him now as it had to Shmi Skywalker years ago. Imperial oppression didn't matter on Tatooine. Life went on here, harsh and unchanged, regardless of who was running things on Coruscant. The best thing to do on Tatooine was tend to your own--mind your business and keep your head down--which was exactly the problem. Padme's children came from a legacy of service on both sides. The Naberries believed as strongly in service and self-sacrifice as the Jedi. She wanted them to honor those values as strongly as they did the dedication to family and home that Owen and Beru could instill in them.

She _also_ hadn't expected him to object on the basis that Obi Wan wanted them to stay here. The two men had almost invariably been on opposite sides of every issue that had effected them, the farm, or the children in the past nine years. That said, although it was true that Owen was an opinionated and stubborn man, he was not irrational or given to sentimentality. Even if what he really wanted was to keep Luke, Ani, and Leia safely hidden here, he would not have said anything just because he had grown attached to them. He meant what he said, and if he would go so far as to take up what he perceived as Obi Wan's side, he felt very strongly.

It would be another week before the twins actually left, and she _hoped_ that it wouldn't be a week of tension between her family and the Lars'. That was hardly the last thing she wanted Luke and Leia to experience here, even if they wouldn't actually remember it. Still, she knew by now that the best thing to do when Owen was in a mood like this was to leave him alone until he came around.

He came back out to eat when Obi Wan and Ani arrived for lunch, but little was said even in the way of small talk. A questioning look at Padme was all it took for both of them to know better than to ask what the problem was. Owen left the table with a surly reminder to Ani that there were vaporator units in need of repair this afternoon, and if he was planning on staying for another season, he had best earn his keep.

"Yes, sir," was the only reply the fourteen-year old made as the farmer's back disappeared.

"What was that about?" asked Obi Wan once he'd gone.

"He's upset about the twins leaving," Beru explained softly.

Obi Wan's eyebrows rose in surprise. He looked thoughtfully toward the doorway through which Owen could be heard clattering around the living room, and gave a slow nod. "Excuse me," he murmured, getting to his feet.

-----

Luke rose from the table as his father got up, following him into the living room. He hovered against the wall by the open doorway, watching as Obi Wan took the chair opposite Owen. His father waited silently for Owen to speak first, much as he usually did when talking with anyone, but Luke began to wonder if the farmer was going to bother talking at all. Finally Owen leveled a hard look on the Jedi Master.

"You want them to go?"

"Yes, I do."

"You sure this Force trick of yours is gonna work?"

"It's not a trick!" Luke interjected.

Owen turned sharply to look at him. "What would you call it then?"

Obi Wan held up a placating hand. "Yes, Owen, I'm sure. And Bail Organa is my friend. They will be safe with him."

"I don't wanna go anyway," Luke mumbled.

"What?" Obi Wan turned to him.

"You'll do what your father tells you," Owen barked.

"Yes, I will," Luke sighed. "Still don't wanna go."

Obi Wan pressed his fingers to his brow and let out a sigh of his own. "Owen, I'm not going to force him. I don't like being so heavy handed with the children."

"He's nine years old. You tell him to do something, he ought to do it," grumbled Owen.

"I don't believe in dictatorship," Obi Wan said with a gentle smile. Looking at his son again, he asked, "Have you told your mother this?"

"No," Luke shook his head.

"You'd be away from your sister," Obi Wan reminded him.

"I know. Leia says it's okay," Luke nodded slowly.

"What's wrong with you anyway?" asked Owen. "You don't even like it here."

"I like you and Aunt Beru," Luke shrugged.

"Come here," Owen told him.

Luke pushed himself off the wall and trudged over to the farmer's chair. Owen studied him for a while as though trying to figure out what to make of him. Finally, he said, "If you stay here, there's to be no more loafing off."

"Yes, sir," Luke smiled.

"You can goof around with your friends when your chores are done and not before," continued Owen.

"Yes, sir," Luke repeated dutifully, and now both he and Obi Wan were grinning.

Owen raised an eyebrow. "And wipe that smile off your face. I know what you're thinking and you can just forget it."

"Yes, sir."


	63. The Kenobi Way

Leia's thirteen as this begins. I would have liked to do something more with her on Alderaan, but I was trying to also keep things moving fairly quickly toward ANH.

-----

"Remember Tatooine."

A gentle touch, the Jedi's soft and strangely compelling voice. The thirteen year old Princess of Alderaan opened her eyes to find his blue ones bright with tears. She knew those eyes. Why had she not recognized them when he'd walked into the room a few moments ago? Leia's mouth came slowly open. Her father had said he was an old friend…

She found herself shaking. Familiar hands cupped her face, warm and calloused…thinner than they had been. Her own hands rose to cover them, and she struggled to form words. A word. When it finally came, it was a faint whisper that sounded alien even to herself. It came from someone else's mouth, spoken in someone else's voice, not the iron-willed and efficacious Princess Leia.

"Dad…?"

He nodded.

Her arms slid around his neck, and she pressed her face against the worn brown fabric of his robe, breathing him. Obi Wan held her for a long time, waiting for the trembling to subside. When she felt steady enough, she took a step back and looked questioningly toward Bail Organa--the man who'd been her father, the only father she'd known for the last five years. Tears sprang into her eyes, and she swallowed convulsively.

Bail offered a reassuring smile and bowed. "I'll leave you two."

When he was gone, another round of trembling began. Obi Wan took her arm, guiding her to a chair by her bed. He knelt beside her, gently stroking her hair. "Are you all right?"

"I think I might throw up," she replied.

"Take slow breaths, Leia. Don't fight, just let the memories go. The real ones will come back as you do," he murmured.

False memories. Images carefully laid to give the illusion of a childhood spent here on Alderaan. Part of her couldn't imagine that--the first nine years of her life were no more than a veneer brushed aside by the sound of his voice, a touch in the Force, and a simple catchphrase.

_Remember Tatooine._

"Luke!"

"He's at home," Obi Wan smiled. "He's very eager to see you. So are Ani and Mom."

"Is he…are they…?" Leia closed her eyes as a storm of images began to swirl through her mind.

"Everyone's fine," her father told her gently. "Things are still very much the way the were when you left. Uncle Owen's still grumpy, Aunt Beru and your mother are still quietly running everything. Luke's still slacking off and spending most of his time with Biggs, Fixer, and Camie. We told them you'd gone to stay with your mother's family. Do you remember?"

"I--I think so," Leia replied shakily. "I'm a little confused."

He nodded. "We have time. It will pass."

"What about Ani?" she asked softly.

"Well, Ani's a little different," allowed her father with an ironic smile. "He's eighteen now. He's become a Jedi Knight."

Leia took in that information with a slow nod of her own. The last time she'd seen either of her brothers had been on the farm, just before Obi Wan had taken her to Mos Eisley. Her memories were still a jumble of images and feelings without much linear coherence, but she remembered that moment as if it had been seared into her brain.

_Uncle Owen stood in the doorway glowering. Aunt Beru and Mom were both crying and trying to pretend they weren't. Luke clung to her as if the suns were about to set for the last time, and she felt a sudden, intense desire to forget the whole thing, just to stay wherever he wanted to be. Then there were Qui-Gon and Ani, standing a little apart from the rest of the group. It wasn't often that she saw the Jedi Spirit, though she knew that both Ani and her father spoke to him. Now Qui-Gon smiled and nodded, reminding her that as much as she might want to stay with her twin, she had her own destiny, and Alderaan was part of it._

_Luke finally peeled himself off of her and trudged, sniffling, over to Padme. Ani dropped down to one knee and held open his arms to her. She could hardly see through her own tears as she ran to hug him, hiding her face against his shoulder._

_"It's okay, Sis, I'll take care of him until you get back," her brother promised._

_"I know," she sniffled. Then she pulled back and looked at him, hoping somehow that the image might stay even after Obi Wan suppressed her memories, hoping something of her older brother might remain._

_He smiled and shook his head. "It's time to let go now, Leia."_

_She bit her lip. Then, she nodded and reached impulsively toward the frayed cord of the japor necklace that he had given her as a baby. She quickly lifted it over her head and then fit it back around his neck. "Keep it for me."_

_"Okay," he agreed, his smile beginning to falter a little._

_She leaned forward again and pecked his cheek. "I love you, Ani."_

_"I love you, too."_

_Then she ran toward her father and the waiting speeder without looking back. Her destiny was on Alderaan._

It still was. Leia opened her eyes again and rested a hand on her father's cheek. "Uncle Bail has been grooming me to take his place in the senate. I've been going to the debates here, the palace receptions…"

"I know. You've made us very proud," her father replied. "You're following in your mother's footsteps. She was only a year older than you when she became Queen of Naboo."

"But there's more I can do here," Leia said softly. "As a senator, I'll have diplomatic immunity. And a consular ship would be the perfect cover for running missions with the Rebellion."

"Leia. It would still be years before you could become a Senator. The Emperor may already be suspicious of Uncle Bail. I don't know when I could come here again," Obi Wan said.

"But if I leave with you and just disappear, Palpatine would be suspicious anyway. My parents were supposed to be from Alderaan, weren't they?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Do you…think it would be all right with Mom?" Leia asked slowly.

Obi Wan didn't reply immediately. He opened his eyes and studied her, and as he did so, she could feel a stirring in the Force. He seemed to be considering, searching for an answer both in her features and in the current that flowed around and in them.

"You are so much like her," he whispered.

"Not just a little like you?" she asked around an ache in her throat.

He smiled sadly. "Maybe a little. And your mother will understand. You have a duty to do, and more than anyone I know, Padme always fulfilled her duty. I'll suppress your memories again, and then you won't be at any greater risk than you would have been before I came--"

"Dad!" she gripped his hand, swallowing against a sudden fear that crept up into her throat.

"You'll be all right," he assured her.

"But…if we don't see each other again…I have this terrible feeling I won't see you again!" she told him.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her temple. "The Force will be with you. Always remember, I love you, Leia."

------

Padme stood on the edge of the berm, staring up at the setting suns. She didn't see them through her tears, and she didn't hear her husband step up behind her. His hands came to rest on her shoulders and she jumped, spinning to face him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She shook her head, collapsing against his chest. "No. I'm not, Obi Wan. I want my little girl."

His arms moved gently, comfortingly around her. "I'm sorry, Padme. I shouldn't have--"

"You did the right thing," she whispered.

He lowered his face into her hair as the wind began to blow. "She is your daughter."

"Yes, she is," Padme agreed, rubbing her wet face against his robe. "And I'm as proud of her as you are. But it hurts so much. I want to hold her…"

"You will again, darling. I promise you that," he said.

She looked up at him with a faint but genuine smile. "You're not supposed to make promises like that, Master Jedi."

"Well, let's just say I'm still not entirely sure what it means to be a Jedi _and_ your husband," he replied.

"I think they're one in the same," she said.

His head moved slowly down to kiss her lips, and then he looked back up at her with a smile she knew as only hers. "Dance with me."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"Why not?" he asked. "I learned this from you, remember? When you came to me on the balcony before we left Coruscant."

"Well, we don't have a balcony," she reminded him with a teasing note in her voice.

"We'll have to make do," he said.

Her arms slid around his shoulders, and she pressed her cheek to his. They fell into an easy and familiar rhythm, find the silent music together easily and naturally now. It was the rhythm of years spent in the comfortable familiarity of one another's arms, the music of passion which had never flickered, but only grew brighter through quiet touches and all their shared joy and pain. As always, in his arms this way, the heaviness lifted from her heart.

"I'm never sure if this dancing without music concept is a Naberrie thing or a Jedi healing trick," she told him softly.

"This is the Kenobi Way," he whispered against her ear.

------

A smile tugged at Ani's lips at the sight of his parents. They didn't laugh as much as they used to before Leia left. There were tense moments between them, as there were with any couple, and in the backs of their minds, he knew that there remained the ever present certainty that the idyll of their life as Ben and Lila would have to end. One day, they would have to take up the war again. Palpatine would let them do no less.

Not just Palpatine. Palpatine and Vader. He sighed. People said that human children retained very little conscious memory of the things that happened to the before they were five or six years old. At best, his memory of Anakin Skywalker should have been sensory flashes--images, scents, perhaps the sound of the former Jedi's voice. He had never forgotten though, and he had never managed to mesh the the black-clad, rasping specter of Darth Vader, the Imperial Enforcer, Lord of the Sith, with the man he knew and loved.

His fingers drifted up to touch the japor charm he now wore around his neck. His gaze moved away from Obi Wan and Padme, up into the crisp, star speckled night sky of Tatooine. Both of them had spent their childhoods looking at that sky, though Ani imagined that his own experiences on this harsh world had been far different from his namesake's. Anakin and Shmi had been slaves. From what his mother had told him, their home had been a hovel, and the only happiness they had found had been in each other. Ani's life here had not been easy, and certainly his family was at the core of all his happy memories, but he was free--at least as free as anyone could be under the Empire. Working the farm with Owen had taught him the value of working with his hands and given him the pride of knowing that he could coax a living from the inhospitable landscape of Tatooine. He was a Jedi Knight, and unquestionably he was his father's son. Yet those very things had given him a great respect for the rough moisture farmer and enabled him to see past the grumbling, often bitter exterior to the heart of the man underneath. Owen was a simple man with plain, straightforward values. His life was uncomplicated, but it was no less rich than the life of a Jedi Master or a former Queen of Naboo. What might Anakin Skywalker have been if he had chosen to stay here, if Cliegg Lars had been able to teach him the things that Ani had learned beside Owen?

_They keep telling me that you died that day. You died saving me, as if that's supposed to make everything okay. Make it all right for me to leave here one day and kill Darth Vader because Darth Vader isn't you. The problem is, they're wrong, Uncle. You are Darth Vader. Vader was your choice. No matter what reasons you thought you had, they don't justify what I saw you do in the Temple. My mother and I, even the twins, would rather have died than see what you've done to the galaxy. We didn't want to be the cause of your bloodbath. But as much as you are Darth Vader, he is still you. Anakin Skywalker is still alive somewhere inside that mask you wear. I know he is._

His parents were finishing their dance, and Ani slipped back into the house before they knew that they'd been watched. He moved quietly toward the bedroom he shared with Luke, where he could already feel the weight of his brother's sadness. Though they had spent much of their early childhood bickering, Luke and Leia's competition had always been good natured. They were in many ways complimentary halves of the same whole--he quiet where she was loud and opinionated; he steady where she was quick-tempered and passionate. The bond they shared as twins was unique, and heightened by the early training in the Force that they had both received from their father. Even as far away as they now were, there had been times when he would know if something was bothering her.

He rarely ever shared those things with their parents. Padme worried enough about Leia without the added incentive to fret over what Luke might have sensed through their Force connection. He never really had an idea _what_ was wrong, and he quickly learned that their father's response would be the response of Jedi Master. Be mindful of the here and now. Trust the Force to guide Leia. Guidance, however, was the least of young Luke's concerns. He needed someone to whom he could voice his loneliness and his fears, and the only person who might understand was Ani

He was lying in bed as his older brother slipped inside the bedroom. He pushed himself upright and grabbed the model Skyhopper from the shelf by his bed, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on it. A smile flickered over Ani's lips as he crossed the room and lowered himself onto the side of his brother's bed.

"I should have gone with her," Luke said glumly, still staring at the model.

"Why?" Ani asked.

"Because I hate it here," Luke replied.

"You still like Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, don't you?" asked his brother.

"Yeah," Luke sighed heavily.

"Listen, kid, you won't be here forever. Sis won't be on Alderaan forever, either. I know you miss her, and you probably don't want to hear the Jedi routine, but the more time you spend thinking about what you _don't_ like, where you _should_ be, the longer it's going to take for Dad to decide we're ready."

"What if I don't _wanna_ be ready?" Luke sighed, flopping back down on the pillows behind him.

"What do you mean?" Ani frowned.

"All my friends talk about normal stuff. Racing in Beggar's Canyon, ships, what we're gonna do when we can grow up and get off Tatooine. Biggs and me always say we're gonna go to the Academy together, then buy our own ship when we get out and go wherever we want. What am I supposed to tell him, 'Sorry, I can't. I have to go be a Jedi and kill Palpatine someday?' I can't even tell anybody why I'm worried about my sister."

Ani looked down at his lap, considering for a long time. There were any number of responses he might have made--all of them full of truths about the Force and service to principles and causes greater than oneself. He knew instinctively that all of them would only exacerbate his brother's mood.

"I'm sorry, kid. I wish it didn't have to be this way," he said.

Luke let out a breath. "It's not like I like the Empire, Ani. I hate it! It's just--don't you ever just want to go somewhere? See something else? Think about something besides the farm and training and the Emperor waiting to kill us all someday?"

"Where would you go if you could?" Ani asked.

"Alderaan, to get Leia," replied Luke.

"Get her? And bring her where?" Ani prompted.

"With Biggs an' me. Wherever we wanted to go," Luke said decisively.

"What if Leia didn't want to go with Biggs and you?" asked Ani.

Luke frowned. "Huh…?"

Ani stifled a laugh. "C'mon, you know Sis. She doesn't go anywhere or do anything unless it's what she wants. Are you gonna try to force her?"

"Of course not," Luke shook his head.

"So, you'd just stick around on Alderaan then because she was there?" Ani asked.

"Well…maybe for a while," Luke said uncomfortably.

"Not for good?" Ani raised an eyebrow.

"It'd get kinda boring. I mean, I guess I'd miss her and everything, but there's so much else to see," Luke said.

Ani nodded. "She'd have to let you go, then, I guess."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. But it doesn't change the fact that I miss her."

"No, kid. It really doesn't," Ani said. He ruffled the boy's hair and pushed himself to his feet. Crossing the room, he laid down on the bed opposite Luke's and laced his fingers behind his head, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling.

"What about you?" Luke asked.

Ani glanced at him. "What about me?"

"Where would you go? If you could? I mean, if you didn't have to be a Jedi?" Luke asked.

"I don't _have_ be a Jedi, kid. It's my choice. It's what I want," Ani shrugged.

"Don't you ever want something else?" Luke persisted.

"Sure, once in a while," Ani admitted.

"What?"

"To be a moisture farmer," Ani smiled ironically.

"Are you _kidding?" _Luke gawked at him.

"Nope."

"If you could _anywhere_ in the galaxy, all you'd do is stay here and listen to Uncle Owen for the rest of your life?" Luke cried.

"What's wrong with being a farmer? It's a good life," Ani said.

"It's boring!" Luke exclaimed.

Ani shrugged. "I think it's peaceful. I don't care about adventure, Luke. My whole life's been an adventure. Always taking care of somebody, always fighting the bad guys. But that doesn't make me any more special than Uncle Owen. His life is just as important to the Force. He and Aunt Beru don't have any kids. We're all they've got, you know. Me, you and Leia. We're their legacy as much as the Kenobis' or the Naberries'."


	64. Searching

Birthdays were hard for everyone with Leia gone, but Ani thought they were the most difficult on Luke. When they were younger, there had always been the consolation of the fact that she would return in a few years. Now, they had no idea where they might see her again, and he missed her keenly. More than ever, he took refuge with his friends, either in Anchorhead or at Tosche station. One way or another, though, the bored teenagers usually found their way to Beggar's Canyon, because if there was one thing they all loved, it was flying.

Obi Wan and Padme did their best to be sympathetic, since they knew that the separation from his twin lay at the heart of his discontent. When it came to Beggar's Canyon, though, they showed little more tolerance than Uncle Owen. Padme remembered Beggar's Canyon as part of the Boonta Eve Classic and worried about how dangerous the podrace had been for Anakin. Obi Wan expected him to be attentive to his training in the ways of the Force, and as everyone knew, he hated flying, which meant that the last thing he wanted to hear about was how badly Luke wanted his own T16-Skyhopper.

So, Ani simply didn't say anything. Owen had always felt that it was important for the kids to see the fruit of their labors on the farm, as well as to learn to handle credits responsibly. Even Luke had been given an allowance from the time he was eight years old, which he ostensibly earned by doing his chores. Ani himself had been paid the same wages that the farmer would've given a hired hand since before Leia left. It seldom mattered, really. There was little that Anakin Kenobi wanted or needed beyond what the farm itself provided. Most of his earnings went straight back into the farm, which he saw as his responsibility as much as it was Owen's. Occasionally, there was something else--usually some small offering to make his mother or Aunt Beru a bit more comfortable, or a new pair of boots for Owen, who was notorious for wearing the same pair until they fell off his feet.

He was rarely short of credits, though, so when he began saving for the airspeeder, it didn't take long for Owen to notice something amiss. The first thing the farmer suspected was that Ani had a girl hiding somewhere. The two of them had come back to the main compound where Owen and Beru lived for a midday meal. Beru casually stopped to fill their glasses before taking her seat at the table, and both men nodded their thanks. Then, Owen leveled a long, silent look at Ani.

The young Knight met his gaze with a fondly amused smile. "What…?"

"You got a girl over in Anchorhead?" Owen asked bluntly.

Ani laughed. "Yeah, right, Uncle Owen. Like I have time for a girlfriend."

"Then where's your money going lately?" Owen persisted.

"We've got a birthday coming," he shrugged. "Thought I'd do something nice for Luke."

"What's that?" inquired the farmer.

"You'll find out," Ani shook his head dismissively, hoping Owen would leave it at that.

He did, but only because he had found a subject which interested him more. Shaking his head, he remarked with gruff disapproval, "You're almost nineteen years old, Ani. It's high time you started thinking about finding yourself a girl. Nevermind all this Jedi nonsense. There are no Jedi anymore. Most kids your age around here…"

"I'm not most kids, Uncle Owen," he sighed.

"So, what are you gonna do? Follow your father off on his damn fool crusade?" Owen grumbled.

"When the time comes, yes," Ani said.

"And what about the farm? We're just not important, that it?"

"Of course you are," frowned Ani.

"You must understand I need you here, Ani. I count on you," Owen said.

"Are you telling me you think I should let him go alone?" asked Ani pointedly.

"I'm telling you I think nobody has to go at all," Owen shook his head.

"I don't have a choice," Ani said. "I never have. But I'll come back. If I can."

"Farm'll always be here for you, Ani. It's yours when I'm gone," Owen told him without ceremony.

He blinked, looking quickly between Owen and Beru, then shook his head in confusion and wet his lips. "What?"

"Beru and I have talked about this. Leia will have all she needs as Princess of Alderaan. We'll help Luke get the Academy in a few years if it's what he really wants. He'll have to earn his way once he's there, of course. But the farm--whatever we have here--it goes to you."

"I don't…know what to say, Uncle Owen. Aunt Beru. Thank you," Ani said quietly.

"You don't have to say anything," Beru smiled, covering his hand with hers.

"Just remember, I've never run this place without your Aunt Beru. A good farmer needs a wife," Owen declared.

Ani heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, Uncle Owen."

The problem was that Owen was more right than he realized. Ani knew most, if not all of the local youth who lived in and around the town of Anchorhead. He was well liked, since he tended to get along easily with everyone, but he had never had the close friendships that Luke did. As he had said to Owen, he simply didn't have the time to cultivate those relationships. When he wasn't working with his father and Qui-Gon, he was helping Owen. Those responsibilities left little time for outside interests. Although technically Luke had the same chores and training to accomplish that Ani did, Luke had never been as dedicated as his older brother was to the teachings their father was trying to impart, and working the farm was something he only did out of obligation to Owen and Beru. That often left Ani picking up his younger brother's slack. Not that he minded. Especially after Leia had chosen to stay on Alderaan, he believed that at least _one_ of the Kenobi kids should have the opportunity to be just that--a kid. The crowd that Luke ran with were primarily bored and discontented youngsters without much promise of a future on Tatooine--or at least not one that they wanted. The Imperial Academy was their golden road, the one way they might be able to get out of the desert for good. There were others though, more like Ani, who found satisfaction in the hard work this planet demanded. They were people who, like their parents and families before them, had learned the secret of taking what Tatooine gave them and turning into something they could use. There were times when he wondered what it might be like to really be one of them, to have nothing more to think about than finding the right girl to work the land beside him.

It just wasn't to be, and he knew it. In his dreams, there was a red lightsaber and a black-clad Sith Lord who still believed that Obi Wan had betrayed him. Ani was the only one who might be able to turn that blade aside, and he couldn't become involved with a local girl without telling her who he really was. Whatever he might _want_, he _would_ someday follow Obi Wan on his "damn fool crusade." He would do so readily and gladly, without a moment's reservation. Fun and games, hopefully anyway, could be left to Luke.

So, he saved to buy Luke the Skyhopper and arranged for Biggs to pick it up and fly it out to Beggar's Canyon a few days before their birthday. He also involved Fixer and Camie, who mentioned to Luke that they were planning to go out there on the morning that the surprise was planned. Luke promptly asked Ani to give him a ride, and he "reluctantly" promised to do so as long as Luke was back in time to keep Uncle Owen happy.

"Where are you two going?" Obi Wan asked as they walked into the kitchen.

"Promised I'd take Luke out to Beggar's Canyon," Ani said, leaning automatically toward his mother's cheek.

"Again?" their father's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You know, Luke, you've spent more time out there with your friends lately than you have here."

"You sound like Uncle Owen," Luke replied easily.

"Possibly because he has a point," Obi Wan's tone was mild, but there was more than a hint of reprimand in it. Both brothers sighed.

"Luke, I don't like you racing out there," Padme added. "It's dangerous."

"C'mom, Mom, I'm a good pilot…"

"That's not the point," Padme said.

Ani ran a hand through his hair. "Can't you guys just let him be a kid?"

Both parents stared.

He sighed again, shaking his head. "Nevermind. I'm--I'm sorry. Come on, Luke. I'll--I'll do your chores when I get back."

Luke shrugged and followed him silently out to the speeder, but when they were alone, he frowned at his older brother. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Ani. "Why?"

"Don't think I've ever heard you talk to them like that," Luke replied.

Ani smiled a little. "Guess Uncle Owen's starting to rub off on me."

"Maybe you need a day off," Luke suggested.

"What?" Ani lifted an eyebrow.

"We've got a birthday coming, don't we?" Luke reminded him. "You deserve it."

"I don't know what I'd even do with a day off," Ani rolled his eyes as they climbed into the speeder.

"Exactly," Luke said.

Ani only laughed, but as the ride out to the canyon went on, he found himself lost in his own thoughts. Luke left him to them. The two brothers knew each other well enough that neither felt any pressing need to talk in order to fill the space between them. As soon as they got where they were going, Luke was too busy gawking at the sight of his friends gathered around the gleaming Skyhopper.

He leapt back out of the speeder and jogged the short distance between them, looking around eagerly. Ani followed, barely stifling a laugh as he reached to clasp Biggs Darklighter's hand. They watched as Luke examined the craft, looking as if he'd never seen one in his entire life.

"Who's is this?" he asked finally, looking from face to face with a puzzled frown as his cronies all began to laugh.

"It's yours, kid," Ani said with a shake of his head. "Happy Birthday."

"Aw, Ani, I didn't get you anything this good," Luke sighed.

"You never get me anything good," Ani smirked. Then he took a step back and waved. "Enjoy it, kid. I gotta get home."

"Hey, stick around, Ani," Biggs called. "You're not such a bad pilot yourself. Give it a spin."

The rest of the group began to murmur agreement, but Ani shook his head. "Thanks, guys, but somebody's gotta go do Luke's chores otherwise Uncle Owen's going to kill both of us anyway."

"Okay," Biggs said. "But one of these days you're gonna wake up and realize you've spent your whole life doing Luke's chores."

"Oh, thanks, Biggs. Thanks a _lot," _Luke sighed.

"You're welcome," his friend quipped.

Ani chuckled at their antics and walked back to the speeder. He vaulted inside, waved once to his brother, who wasn't paying attention anyway, and keyed the ignition. He knew, of course, that a gift like this couldn't make up for the absence of his twin, but he hoped it might make their birthday a little more of a happy occasion for Luke. His friends couldn't replace Leia, either, but Ani was glad that Luke had them.

He wondered again as the familiar, dusty brown-gold landscape of Tatooine sped past him what it might be like to be a part of such a group. In the end he could only shake his head, because he knew that it wasn't his way. Even given a choice, he was too much like their father. He preferred solitude and silence, or perhaps the company of a single, close companion. His father had been his best friend all of his life, and aside from him there was only Qui-Gon, who wasn't even alive.

"That's never bothered you before," the Jedi Spirit remarked.

Ani jumped and then turned to face the passenger seat with a sigh. "Would you not do that while I'm driving? It's gonna cause an accident."

"Sorry," Qui-Gon said with a half smile.

"Sure. You sound it. And it doesn't bother me. I just wonder sometimes if I'm missing something. If there's something more for me than the life of a Jedi Knight," Ani said.

"Maybe you should find out," suggested Qui-Gon.

"How?" Ani raised an eyebrow.

"Take a day off."

"What?" Ani asked.

"You do have a birthday coming," Qui-Gon reminded him.

"I know. I meant…I didn't expect you to say that," Ani told him.

"Well, what did you expect me to say?" asked Qui-Gon.

"Something more Jedi-sounding. Use your feelings, or something like that," Ani replied.

"That too," Qui-Gon shrugged.

Ani could only run a hand over his face and laugh. "Okay, Qui-Gon. So, I'll take a day off."


	65. Finding

A few days' after the kids' birthday...

-----

The speeder broke down outside of Mos Espa. Ani sighed heavily, popped the canopy and climbed out to find the problem. It turned out to be a bad power circuit, which, while not hard to fix, would leave the vehicle grounded until it could be replaced. The Jedi let out a breath and raised a hand to his eyes, squinting off in the direction of the spaceport. Then he leaned sullenly against the side of the downed vehicle and crossed his arms.

"Which means I'm walking," he complained to the empty air. "This was a brilliant idea, Qui-Gon."

"What was?" asked the disembodied voice of the Jedi Spirit.

"This whole thing. I take a day off for the first time in my life and I end up stranded outside of Mos Espa," Ani said.

"It was your idea to come here," Qui-Gon reminded him.

"Yeah, well maybe that was a dumb idea too," Ani shook his head. He pushed himself away from the speeder and shucked up his hood to keep the glare of the suns out of his eyes. Qui-Gon's physical presence appeared as he began to walk and fell in step beside him.

"You sound like Luke," he said.

"Thanks," Ani allowed an ironic half smile

"Why are we here, Ani?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I…don't know, really. I've always wanted to see it. See where he grew up," Ani replied slowly.

"What do you hope to find?"

"Don't know that either. I'm just following my feelings," said the young Knight.

"You realize that if your father knew where we were, he wouldn't like it," remarked the Master.

"What my father doesn't know won't hurt him," Ani teased, calling to mind the words that Qui-Gon himself had spoken to Padme all those years ago during his parents' first visit here.

"Oh?" Qui-Gon chuckled.

"Well. This time, anyway," Ani said a bit sheepishly.

Despite the fact that he had always wanted to see Mos Espa, he had quickly learned that the idea was not one that his parents were going to support. Both of them felt that his curiosity was symptomatic of a lingering attachment to Anakin. He supposed they were right, but Ani had never viewed that attachment as problematic. All of them still sometimes grieved for the man that Anakin Skywalker had once been--the friend, brother, and uncle that they had lost. Ani had accepted that loss, as was the Jedi way, but he believed that acceptance did not need to mean divorcing himself from his own feelings. For good and ill, Anakin Skywalker had played a part in making Anakin Kenobi the man he was. Accepting that his uncle could no longer be part of his life did not mean that he never had been.

His father seemed to feel that he was holding on to Anakin in a way that was potentially dangerous, but Ani held no illusions about who Darth Vader now was. Keeping alive the memory of who Anakin had been was his way of honoring the man to whom he owed his life--now twice over. Seeing the place where Anakin had grown up, walking where his namesake had walked and breathing the same gritty, hot, foul smelling air was part of that effort. More than that, it was, perhaps, a way of seeing for himself what had shaped both the man and the monster--of confirming or dismissing his own conviction that Anakin Skywalker was not dead.

He knew that Obi Wan would not prevent him from coming here now. He was a grown man and a Jedi Knight in his own right. His father respected him and had always allowed him as much freedom to choose his own path as possible. Still, it wasn't often that he did anything of which he was aware Obi Wan would not approve, and this time he felt that it would probably be better if he kept the trip to himself.

"If you say so," Qui-Gon said, drawing him back out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked. "You think I should have told him where we were going?"

"It's not up to me," Qui-Gon replied.

"I didn't say it was up to you, Qui-Gon. I asked what you thought," Ani reminded him.

"It doesn't matter now, Ani. The speeder's stuck. We have no way back to the farm without it. Our only choice is to keep walking, and that will bring us to Mos Espa," said Qui-Gon equitably.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" Ani chuckled.

"A bit," Qui-Gon nodded. "Except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"You don't have a comlink," Qui-Gon quipped.

"I have no need for one, either," Ani laughed.

"Never make assumptions," the Force Ghost told him dryly.

"Right," Ani nodded mock-seriously. "I'm sure there are half a dozen queens in Mos Espa, all masquerading as servant girls."

"Well, in that case, you'll need to be careful," Qui-Gon retorted.

"Careful of what?" asked Ani.

"You'll have to make sure you find the right one," said Qui-Gon.

"Listen, the only thing I'm worried about finding right now is a new power circuit. I am not going to try riding an Eopie all the way home," Ani declared.

"I can't say I blame you," Qui-Gon admitted.

"I don't suppose you could just…" he paused, waving his arm grandly. "…poof home and tell Luke where I am."

Qui-Gon pulled his lip thoughtfully. "It probably wouldn't go over well."

"Oh. Of course not," Ani rolled his eyes.

"You know," Qui-Gon said suddenly. "If anyone else was to walk by right now, they would probable think you were insane."

"What?" frowned Ani.

"You're talking to someone who isn't there," Qui-Gon reminded him.

"From their perspective maybe," Ani chuckled.

"Well, since they're the ones who think you're insane, their perspective would be the most important under the circumstances," Qui-Gon said.

Ani covered his face with his hand. "We're in the desert. Maybe you're a mirage."

"Which would still make you appear to be insane," Qui-Gon pointed out.

"But mirages are a common enough phenomenon out here. They'd probably assume I was hallucinating due to heat exhaustion or dehydration, not actually insane," Ani argued.

"It's possible," admitted Qui-Gon.

The banter continued until they reached Mos Espa. Once there, Qui-Gon fell silent and Ani slipped smoothly and without conscious decision into the deeper awareness of the Jedi's Seeing Without Looking. Jedi training included as much observation and analysis as it did direct manipulation of the Force. In Seeing Without Looking, one subtly allowed the Force to heighten senses and awareness, but it was simply focus and the ability to observe which enabled him to take in and interpret the details he gathered, showing him where to step and which beings to avoid, all while appearing to be simply taking a casual walk down the crowded street.

There were any number of places he might have found a new circuit for the X-34, but he knew without having to think about it that he was going to Watto's. He didn't have to ask around, simply followed the flow of conversation, waiting until he picked up the Toydarian's name in the crowd and letting the Force guide him through the twists and turns in the streets until he found himself in the junkyard. Unhurried, he turned a full circle, absorbing the haphazard piles of scrap and salvage, the huge catch-all bins in which a small boy could quite literally get lost. It had fallen to Anakin to clean those things--sort through the junk to find what was still of value and discard the rest. He wandered over to the nearest one and climbed up onto it, peering inside to find broken paneling, loose wires, a chrome-plated speeder bike handle. He couldn't help but smile. This was the kind of garbage with which his uncle had built both Threepio and the podracer which had saved Naboo--

"Can I help you?" asked a light and distinctly female voice.

"Now you're in trouble," Qui-Gon said as he faded away.

Ani let go of the bin, dropping back to the ground. Chagrinned, he turned to face her and raised a hand to the back of his neck. She was young, about his age, with shoulder-length blonde curls, delicate features and clear blue eyes. He abruptly realized he was staring and let out an embarrassed cough.

"I was…uh…looking for Watto?" he said.

She arched an eyebrow. "He's not in there."

"Well, I know that," Ani nodded, feeling his face redden. "I was--just curious."

"About what?" she asked.

"Well, the…" he waved a hand toward the bin and then shook his head. "Nevermind."

"Right," she smirked.

"I'm Ani," he offered, extending a hand. "Ani Kenobi."

"Isaly," she smiled as she shook it.

"Pleasure," he murmured.

She nodded slightly and reached upward, pushing a curl behind her ear. "So, you were looking for Watto?"

"Uh, yeah. I've got a blown power circuit on my speeder. Thought he might be able to sell me a new one," Ani nodded again.

"He's inside with some customers, but I'm sure he'll be able to help you out," she said, turning to lead the way into the shop.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome. By the way, what are you driving?" she asked over her shoulder.

"SoruSuub X-34," Ani replied.

"X-34?" she repeated. "Nobody wants those anymore. Why don't you trade it in? Watto could get you a good deal on an XP-38."

"There's not much difference in the two anyway," Ani shrugged. "Capabilities are almost exactly the same. XP-38 looks better, that's all. It's flashy."

"Not into flash, are you?" Isaly laughed as she ducked through the doorway into the cool of the junk shop.

"Not really," Ani replied.

Watto was hovering between two customers, one human dressed in light, dusty armor whom Ani suspected was probably a bounty hunter, and one who looked Charbodian. He glanced at Ani and Isaly as they came inside, shooting the girl a sour look. Holding up a hand to the hunter, he flitted toward her and crossed his arms.

"Thought I told you to clean those bins outside," he grumbled.

Isaly shrugged and glanced over her shoulder again to indicate Ani. "We got a customer."

"Ah, a customer!" the Toydarian exclaimed, momentarily happy. Then, he frowned at Isaly. "A paying customer, right? Not one of your charity cases?"

"Yes, Watto. A paying customer," Isaly sighed.

"Good. Good, good," Watto said, moving over to Ani. "Let me just finish with these guys. I'll be right with ya."

"Sure, Watto," Ani grinned broadly. "Take your time."

"Right…" he gave the Jedi a speculative look, then turned back to the two beings ahead of him. After a few minutes of discussion, he escorted them out into the junkyard with a curt admonition to Isaly that she'd better watch the shop and not be goofing off when he came back.

"Watto, I never goof off," she retorted, but he was already gone. She gave a fond sigh and moved off to rummage on the shelves, then presented Ani with the small cylindrical cluster of electrical components and wiring he needed.

"Thanks," he said with a smile.

She looked toward the doorway where Watto had disappeared. "He'll want to barter himself."

"Doesn't trust you to gouge me?" Ani chuckled.

"No," she grinned. "He thinks I like you."

"That so?" he smirked.

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded, handing him the part before she turned again to busy herself cleaning the shelves.

Ani leaned casually against the counter in the center of the room. "Would he be right?"

"Maybe," she allowed.

"So, he's afraid I might want to buy your freedom?" Ani asked.

"My freedom?"

"You're a slave, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not a slave. I work here."

"Oh," he said awkwardly. He opened his mouth to apologize, but felt a sudden tug of warning from the Force. "Isaly watch out!"

"What--" she turned sharply toward him and her hand slid across the shelf she'd been rearranging, straight into the sharp, jagged edge of a worker droid's cutting arm. "Ouch! Damn, Watto, leaving this junk laying around!"

Ani saw a drop of blood fall onto the dusty floor and leapt over the counter. "How bad is it? Let me see."

"It's not bad," she shook her head.

"I'm sorry, it was my fault," he apologized, gently cupping her hand in both of his.

"How did you…?"

"I have good eyesight," he said, frowning down at the shallow gash that split her palm from left to right. "Have you got a medkit?"

"Over there," she murmured, indicating the counter where he'd been standing.

He nodded and hurried back to it, ducking underneath to find the kit. He opened it as he strode back to her, then set it on the shelf and took her hand again. He was so intent on sealing and bandaging the cut that he didn't notice her watching him until he'd finished. Their eyes met as he looked up, and he swallowed hard.

"You--you've done this before," she said, and her cheeks flushed.

He nodded. "It's easy to get hurt doing farm work. Though I'd much rather take care of your hands than Uncle Owen's…I mean…"

"Trust a farmboy to ruin the moment," she laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Nothing. Thank you, Ani," she smiled.

"You're welcome."

"Isaly!" exclaimed Watto. Ani pulled away as the Toydarian came back inside. "I thought I said no goofing off!"


	66. Dreams

"Do you have anyone to walk back with you?" Isaly asked when Ani and Watto had concluded their haggling over the speeder's power circuit.

"I'll be fine," Ani smiled. "Walked in myself…"

_"No, you didn't_," Qui-Gon reminded him.

_You're only a mirage, remember?_ Ani said silently.

_"Very funny."_

_Yes, I thought so,_ he replied, watching as Isaly disappeared into the interior of the shop.

"Hey, where are you going?" demanded Watto.

She made no reply until she came back out a few seconds later, now wearing a loose gray peasant's cloak. "Watto, I'm walking him back to his speeder."

"What? What do you think this is, an escort service? You heard him. He walked all the way here by himself!" Watto complained.

"And now he doesn't have to walk back alone," said Isaly. "As soon as the speeder's up and running he can give me a ride back. I won't be gone long."

"Sure, sure," muttered Watto. "That's what they all say. But you're not getting paid for the time you're gone, you hear?"

"Of course not," Isaly said with a badly hidden laugh. She walked outside again, gesturing for Ani to follow.

"Thank you again, Watto," he said with a polite nod to the Toydarian.

"Yeah," Watto muttered. "You just make sure you bring her right back. Don't be flying off and leaving her stranded once you got what you want."

"I wouldn't do that, Watto," Ani said easily. "I promise, I'll--"

"Ani, whatever he's telling you, don't listen to him," called Isaly.

Watto's huge eyes blinked in surprise at the nickname. "Ani…?"

"Owen Lars is my uncle," he said as he turned to leave. "Shmi was like a mother to him."

He ducked outside and was glad when Isaly grabbed his arm, pulling him off down the street before Watto could follow and ask questions. He wasn't sure if the Toydarian was aware of Darth Vader's identity. No one that Ani had ever met on Tatooine had any idea, but then again, no one had ever made a connection between himself and Anakin Skywalker before either. He didn't think that Watto would betray them even if he did figure out who the Kenobis were, but he wasn't about to jeopardize his family's safety.

"You really didn't have to do that," he told her as they walked.

"Do what?"

"Come with me," Ani shrugged. "I know you're working."

"Of course I didn't have to," she shook her head. "I wanted to."

"I appreciate it," Ani nodded.

Isaly fell silent for a few moments, then asked casually, "So, where are you from?"

"My uncle's got a moisture farm out on the other side of Mos Eisley," he replied.

"You're a long way from home," she observed.

"I don't get out much. Making up for lost time," Ani chuckled self-deprecatingly.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I'm boring," he shrugged.

"Oh really?" she laughed.

"At least that's what my brother tells me," he nodded.

-----

Obi Wan found Luke in the Lars' garage. He was sitting on the ground with his back against the Skyhopper, staring dreamily up at a spot on the ceiling that his father knew he wasn't seeing. The Jedi Master smiled and made his way inside, pulling up a nearby stool to sit on. Luke blinked in surprise at his presence, then smiled.

"Dreaming of flying away?" Obi Wan asked knowingly.

"I guess," Luke admitted.

"When your brother was very little, I told Mom that it didn't matter to me what he did, so long as it was something he loved," his father said.

"You did?" Luke frowned.

"I said I didn't even care if he wanted to fly around the galaxy selling used droid parts, as long as it made him happy and I didn't have to go with him," Obi Wan nodded.

"I don't think Ani'd like that very much," Luke laughed.

"Fortunately, no," agreed Obi Wan. "But the same holds for you, Luke. I can't force you to be a Jedi. But I believe it is your destiny."

"I _do_ want to learn the ways of the Force, Dad. I want to help. It's just…not all I want," Luke sighed.

"And what you want has nothing to do with the life of a moisture farmer on Tatooine," Obi Wan said.

"Is that so wrong?" Luke asked.

"No. It's not wrong at all," his father shook his head. "The galaxy is a vast and beautiful place. Full of wonders--too much for any man to see in the course of a lifetime. Before we came to Tatooine, I saw hundreds of thousands of worlds, and even the most barren or squalid places possessed some measure of beauty to be found, whether in the natural surroundings or the beings who lived there. But this is where we are now. Part of being a Jedi is accepting where one is and seeking the will of the Force there."

"I know," Luke dropped his head and sighed. "It's just…"

"What?" Obi Wan asked, leaning forward to grasp his arm.

"I feel like I'm the only one around here who's ever wanted anything else," he replied.

"You're not," Obi Wan assured him. "All your mother and I ever wanted was to go back to Naboo. Go to the Lake Country and raise our family there in peace."

"I always thought you guys were happy here," Luke frowned.

"We are," his father said. "But that doesn't mean we dreamt of living in the middle of the desert all our lives. Your time will come, son. Be patient."

-----

"You've got a clogged air intake," Isaly said, straightening from her position on the ground beside the X-34. "You're not going anywhere tonight."

"What? It was fine when I left!" Ani sighed.

"Well, you left it sitting out here all this time. Sand gets in everything. What did you expect?" she pointed out.

"It's not like I had much choice," he shook his head.

"Do you need me to push?" she deadpanned.

Ani narrowed an eye. "What?"

"Normal farmboys have a sense of humor?" she quipped.

"I'm not a normal farm boy," Ani replied with a smirk.

"I'm beginning to notice," she nodded.

Ani only smiled and offered his arm. "Should probably head back."

She tilted her head curiously, then shrugged and linked her arm through his. "Nope. Not a normal farmboy at all."

"My mother taught me to mind my manners," he said as they started out.

"She lives on the farm with you?" asked Isaly in a conversational tone.

"Mmm-hmm. Both my parents and my younger brother. I have a sister, too, but she's staying with family in the Core," he explained.

"That homestead must be really big or really cramped," Isaly observed.

"Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen live in the main compound. The rest of us live out on the edge of the south range," explained Ani with a chuckle. "I don't think Dad and Uncle Owen could get along for very long if they had to live in the same house."

"Why not?" Isaly asked.

Ani shrugged. "Philosophical differences, mostly."

"I didn't know moisture farmers had philosophical debates," remarked Isaly jokingly.

"Most don't," Ani shook his head.

"But your family's abnormal," she smirked.

"My father served in the Clone Wars. I lived on Coruscant till I was four, and then when the war ended, my parents moved us back here. All they really wanted was a safe place to raise a family. Y'know, somewhere peaceful and away from the Empire. I think Uncle Owen would've liked it better if they'd just stayed here from the beginning, not gotten involved at all. That's just not the way my parents are, though, and Dad tends to clash with Uncle Owen over it a lot."

"Your father sounds like a great guy," Isaly smiled.

"He is. Just about everything I know I learned from him," Ani nodded.

_I suppose it's a good thing you're only mentioning the people still living,_ remarked Qui-Gon silently. _We wouldn't want to scare poor Isaly._

_Come on, Qui-Gon, don't you have somewhere else to be?_ Ani sighed.

_I could drop in on Leia, but she can't talk to me. She doesn't know I'm there,_ Qui-Gon replied.

_I'd really rather you _weren't _here,_ Ani retorted.

_So, you're saying you don't want to talk to me, either,_ Qui-Gon said.

_Yes…?_

Isaly arched an eyebrow at him. "Ani, are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh. Oh, yeah. Fine, why?" he cleared his throat.

"I don't know. You just had this strange, far away look…" she trailed off.

"Oh. Sorry, I…guess I've been walking in the desert for too long. The heat must be getting to me," he said.

_Smooth, young one. Very smooth,_ chuckled Qui-Gon.

_Did you do this to my parents?_ Ani demanded.

_No, they didn't know I was there either._

_Lucky me,_ Ani sighed.

_Don't you mean lucky them?_ asked Qui-Gon.

_No, I mean lucky me. Lucky Luke and Leia too. If Mom and Dad had known you were there, none of us might have been born,_ Ani told him.

"Ani, you wanna sit down or something?' Isaly asked, waving a hand toward the nearby dunes.

"I'm fine," he assured her with a smile. "I think the buzzing in my head is going _away_."

_All right, Ani. I suppose you are old enough not to need a chaperone. _Qui-Gon laughed.

_That was way too easy,_ Ani observed.

_I have compassion on the next generation, so I'll leave…_

_What? What? Qui-Gon! What?_

"Are you sure?" Isaly frowned.

"Yeah…I think so," he let out a breath. "So, um…what about you? You have family here in Mos Espa?"

"Just Watto," she smiled a bit sadly. "My father went away to serve in the Clone Wars too. He was a pilot, and a good one, from what my mother said. Anyway, he died when she was pregnant with me, and she needed a way to support a family, so Watto gave her a job."

"Where is she now?" he asked.

"She died," Isaly glanced away. "I was about four. She went away to visit this guy she was seeing in Mos Eisley, and just never came back. They said it was Tuskens."

"I'm sorry," Ani said quietly.

Isaly shook her head. "I don't really remember much about her. Everything I know comes from what Watto tells me."

"So…Watto…raised you?" Ani asked in surprise.

"Pretty much," Isaly smiled. "Don't let it get around, but he's not really as bad as people say. He lost a lot of money on the Boonta Eve Classic, and it really changed him."

"I won't tell anybody," Ani chuckled. "Wouldn't want to ruin his reputation."

"Do you…know him from somewhere?" she asked. "You act almost like a regular."

He shook his head. "He had a slave once called Shmi Skywalker. That's why I thought you might've been one. She fell in love with moisture farmer named Cliegg Lars and Watto sold her to him. My Uncle Owen is her stepson, Cliegg's boy, and…I was named for her son, Anakin Skywalker. So, I've heard a lot about Watto growing up."

Isaly stopped suddenly and turned to look up at him. She blinked and said slowly, "That's…so strange."

"What is?" he frowned.

"Watto told me about Anakin. He _says_ he only kept me around after my mom died because I reminded him of the little boy," she laughed.

Ani gave a small laugh. "I don't think it's strange at all."

"Oh?" Isaly asked.

"Things have a way of working out that way in my life," Ani said.

-----

Only one pair of footsteps shuffled into the house, and Padme frowned over her shoulder as they neared the kitchen. Obi Wan appeared in the doorway and smiled, then walked over to the food prep station and slipped his arms around her waist.

"Where's Luke?" she asked.

"He's helping Owen. Said he'd get supper later over there," he replied, pressing his lips into her neck. "Smells good."

"It's just last night's leftovers," she laughed, reaching automatically to put away the third plate.

"I wasn't talking about the leftovers," he said archly.

"Oh, stop," she said with an affectionate sigh.

"Why?" he challenged.

She turned in his arms, raised her hands to the sides of his face and kissed him. "I love you."

"And I you," he smiled.

"You know," she said as she slid away and moved to pick up the remaining plates, "We haven't had dinner alone in a long time."

"We haven't had _anything_ alone in a long time," he said, taking a couple of glasses from the cupboard before following her to the table.

"Where do you suppose Ani is?" she asked absently.

"I don't know. But he can take of himself," Obi Wan replied as he set the glasses down. "Do you want some blue milk?"

"Mmm. And I know he can. But it's not like him to be gone all day without a word," she said.

"We'd know if anything was really wrong," he assured her.

"I know that, too," she told him. Padme may not have been a Jedi, but she had learned enough of the ways of the Force since they had moved to Tatooine to understand that much.

He walked over to hold a chair for her, then went back to the food prep station and ducked inside the refrigeration unit. He returned a few moments later and poured the milk, then set the container in the center of the table.

"Do you know what I was thinking about today?" he asked as he took his seat.

"What?" she shook her head.

"When we met on the ship after breaking through the blockade. You were cleaning Artoo and talking to Jar Jar. You were so kind to him, and I was absolutely obnoxious," he laughed.

"You had a lot on your mind," she allowed.

"That doesn't excuse it," he shook his head. "You were right, you know. That was exactly why I was still a Padawan.

"Well, you've learned a lot since then," she winked.

"Yes, I have," he nodded, reaching for her hand. "And you have taught it to me. All of it."

"It's been an honor, Obi Wan. And a pleasure," she smiled.

"Even after everything that's happened?" he asked.

"There is no life I would rather have," she promised. "You have been my dream."


	67. Maturity

The Kenobis and the Lars' often had dinner in the first week or so following a bountiful harvest. Spirits were high, and tensions between Obi Wan and Owen could be put aside in the camaraderie brought by the farm's success. Padme and Beru had as much to do as the men during harvest time, and shared meals afterward allowed both a chance to relax. The crop had been good this year, and as an added boon, water prices had unexpectedly risen.

Despite all this, Luke couldn't shake the feeling that there was something slightly strange about Ani as the family sat down to dinner. He spent several minutes looking up and down from the bowl of stew in front of him, surreptitiously studying his older brother before it finally dawned on him. Then he set down his fork and stared.

"Are you growing a _beard?" _he asked incredulously. It wasn't uncommon for Ani to let a few days' worth of bristle grow before shaving during harvest. It was the farm's busiest season, and neither Ani nor Uncle Owen spared much time for amenities like shaving until it was over, but once it was, Ani was usually the first to be rid of the whiskers.

"Thought I might. You like it?" his brother asked.

"I don't know, Ani. I think it makes you look weird," Luke said.

"I think I look mature," Ani countered.

"Why this sudden interest in looking mature?" Owen wanted to know.

"I'm a Jedi," Ani shrugged.

"So?" Owen asked.

"So, I should look mature. Like Dad," Ani replied.

"Ani, Dad's old," Luke made a face.

"Excuse me?" Obi Wan coughed.

Beru, Padme, and Owen all laughed. Ani buried his face in his hands and tried valiantly not to. Luke hurriedly gulped down another mouthful of stew, trying to buy himself time, and then looked up at his father.

"Well, not _old_ old, Dad," he offered.

"How many kinds of old are there, Luke?" Obi Wan raised an eyebrow.

"Kid, you're just digging yourself in deeper," Ani told him.

"Well, you're…" Luke began, then frowned in thought.

"Son, chose your words carefully," Padme laughed.

"Huh?" Luke turned to look at her.

"Because if you say _mature_ I'm going to ground you," Obi Wan said dryly.

Luke bit his lip. "Older than me and Ani?"

Everyone laughed, Obi Wan included this time, and Luke breathed a sigh of relief. Padme reached across the table to touch his arm. "Very good, son. We'll make a politician of you yet."

"I don't think so," Owen grumbled.

"Me neither," agreed Obi Wan.

"You see, he's managed to bring you two into accord already," Padme said.

Obi Wan flicked his gaze from one son to the other and advised with a laugh, "Never try to match wits with your mother."

"We learned that a long time ago, Dad," Ani said.

"Good," the Jedi Master nodded.

"Oh, Ani," Owen looked up from his plate as if suddenly remembering something.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to go into Mos Espa tomorrow. Those supplies I ordered were somehow diverted there by mistake," the farmer shook his head in disgust. "This is why I hate ordering anything offplanet. Between tariffs and shipping fees it always costs the same in the end, if not more, and something always gets botched."

Ani grinned broadly. "Don't worry, Uncle Owen. I'll take care of it for you."

Owen and Obi Wan both raised questioning eyebrows at his enthusiasm for the task. Under normal circumstances, Ani hated going that far from the farm. Luke ducked his head and studied the plate in front of him, busying himself with finishing his stew in an effort not to laugh. Ani didn't say anything else about it, but for the rest of the evening, a smile wasn't far from his lips.

Later at home, Obi Wan stopped Luke in the hall. Ani had gone to bed already, and Luke was on his way out of the 'fresher, intending to head there himself. He paused when his father called his name, holding back a half amused sigh.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Is there some reason your brother is so eager to be in Mos Espa?"

Luke shrugged. "You want me to ask him?"

"No, I just thought you might know," Obi Wan shook his head.

"If I had a normal brother, I'd say maybe he's got a girlfriend hiding over there. But you know…it's Ani," Luke laughed.

Obi Wan chuckled. "If he did have a girlfriend, I think he'd tell me. Good night, son."

"Night, Dad," Luke nodded, holding his breath until his father disappeared up the hall. Once Obi Wan turned the corner, he blew a slow stream of air from his lungs and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he turned the other way, shaking his head as he walked into the room he shared with his brother.

Ani lifted his head and squinted as the lights went on, then rolled over and pulled the rough gray blanket over his head. Luke smiled and shut off the overheads, then walked over to turn on the glow lamp by his bed. Neither brother said anything as he finished getting ready, but he knew that Ani was still awake.

"Are you gonna bring her out here soon?" he asked as he slid under his own covers and turned off the lamp again.

"I dunno," Ani said.

"Why not?" Luke frowned. He'd met Isaly a few times and had no doubt that both their parents and the Lars' would like her--well, as far as Uncle Owen ever liked anyone.

"She doesn't know who we are yet," sighed Ani. "If she's gonna come meet my family, she's really gotta know the truth."

"Don't you trust her?" Luke frowned.

"Yeah, I trust her. That's not it," An replied.

"Okay, then what?" asked Luke.

"I guess I just wanted to keep things the way they are. Happy. No pressure. No Emperor looming somewhere in the future, no secrets," he explained.

"But you have a secret, Ani," his brother pointed out.

"I know," Ani sighed.

"And Mom and Dad are still happy," added Luke.

"Kid, Mom and Dad would be happy spending the rest of their lives in the Spice Mines of Kessel as long as they were together," Ani chuckled. "I just don't know if Isaly's going to want to spend hers with a Jedi Knight."

"Well, don't you think you better ask her? I mean, if it's getting that serious…?" Luke blinked.

"Yeah," Ani let out a longer sigh.

"Night, Ani," Luke said, turning over.

"Night, kid," his brother replied as he did the same.

Both were silent for a while, but Luke didn't sleep right away. He stared at the wall, then raised a hand to let his fingers trace the rough stone as his mind turned inevitably to the place it did each night when there was nothing left to distract him. He smiled a little.

"Hey, Ani?"

"What?" came the sleepy reply.

"I think Leia'd like Isaly, too," he said.

"Yeah. I think you're right," Ani agreed.

"Night."

"Goodnight, Luke."

------

Isaly hadn't seen Ani since before the moisture harvest. Business was always good at this time of year, and it wasn't like she didn't have other things to keep her mind occupied. Watto certainly found enough for her to do. Still, she found herself glancing hopefully toward the door whenever anyone came into the shop--even at times when there were no customers there at all.

She absently traced the small scar in her left palm with the index finger of her other hand, smiling a little sadly. Ani had been rather reluctant to accept her invitation home the day they met, only agreeing to sleep on her couch after she pointed out that he didn't exactly have another option. Since that afternoon six months ago, he'd appeared at Watto's as often as he could, but she was beginning to feel as if her life was becoming a collection of stolen moments. She wondered, too, what scar the handsome farmer might be hiding. Most of the time, he was cheerful and funny, very much like his younger brother, Luke. Every so often, though, especially if Watto happened to be in the mood to pick on him about his lack of resemblance to his namesake, he seemed distant, pensive. She knew that there were things the brothers weren't sharing about their family life. There seemed to be many things that passed unsaid between them--meaningful glances, things they would start to say and then subtly alter. She was sure that it had something to do with Ani's early childhood on Coruscant, but if he didn't want to share it…

"Isaly!" called Watto, and she abruptly realized that he'd called her name three times already.

"What? Sorry, Watto," she apologized.

"Where'd you put--"

"Hello…?"

"There goes the rest of the day," Watto complained.

Isaly spun around, grinning at the sound of Ani's voice, and ran to throw her arms around his neck as he came inside. His strong arms wound around her waist, and he lifted her from the ground as their lips met. The skin above his upper lip was rough and prickly, and she pulled back abruptly, frowning at the stubble he'd neglected to shave.

"You're all scruffy," she said, raising a hand to his cheek as he set her down again.

"Well, it's nice to see you, too," he laughed.

"Oh…" she trailed off, then leaned forward to kiss him again. "Better?"

"Much," he grinned.

"What's with the prickly look?" she asked.

He gave an exaggerated sigh. "You don't like my beard either."

"Ani, honey, that's not a beard," she teased.

"Well, it will be soon," he rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" Watto interrupted, buzzing over to push his way between them. He crossed his arms and glared at Ani. "How many times do I have to tell you, she is not part of what's for sale around here?"

He took a step back and grinned. "Hello, Watto. How's business?"

"It'd be a lot better if you'd stop hanging around here, farmboy. Isaly's got work to do!' the Toydarian said.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave if you want me to, but I'm told it's better to have happy employees," Ani said good naturedly.

"Oh, no you won't!" Isaly spoke up, glaring at her boss.

"Yes, Ma'am," Ani replied.

"What do you mean, 'no he won't'? Who do you think owns this place, anyway?" Watto demanded.

"You do, of course," Isaly grinned as she walked over to remove the apron she was wearing and hang it on a dusty peg by the doorway. "And I think you have an inventory to finish."

"Where are you going?" Watto asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Will you come for a ride with me?" Ani asked. "I have to pick up some supplies for my uncle, but…there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Sure," Isaly smiled, hooking her arm through his.

Watto followed them to the door, yelling after them for Isaly to get back to work where she belonged. He even threatened to fire her, but as Ani walked around to climb behind the speeder's controls, she waved cheerfully at the Toydarian.

"You can't fire me Watto," she told him.

"Oh, yeah? Why can't I?" he demanded.

"Because if you fire me, I'll quit!"

------

"…and--and that's it, really," Ani finished, looking hopefully into the troubled blue eyes of the woman he loved. Owen's supplies were now safely in the back of the speeder, and he and Isaly had gone out to the desert where they could be alone. "Everything I've told you about myself was true, Isaly. It just…wasn't everything."

She nodded once and bit her lip. He could feel her still struggling to absorb the reality of what he was, of what it might mean for them. All he could do was wait, preparing himself as he did so to accept whatever decision she made about their future together.

She slowly reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, an unconscious gesture so familiar to him now that he felt an ache start to form in his throat. Tears glistened in her eyes, and she took in a ragged breath. Ani tried to muster a reassuring smile but wasn't sure he quite made it.

"You saw him kill younglings?" she asked shakily.

Ani nodded, closing his eyes. "And I saw him try to kill my father on Mustafar. But he let me go."

She reached out gently to touch his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I--didn't want to involve you, Isaly. Knowing who I am puts you at risk," he said softly, leaning into the touch of her hand. "But I can't--can't keep coming around here. I can't ask you to be part of my life without telling you the truth."

"I love you, Ani. I don't care where we go, or whether you're a Jedi or a farmer or something in between," she promised.

Ani smiled and leaned forward to kiss her lips. "And I love you."

Somewhere in the blackness of space, a cloaked figure waited, bearing a red lightsaber and the promise of destruction. Here and now, on Tatooine, there was only hope and devotion. Anakin Kenobi didn't go home that night.


	68. The Thing About Family

"Boy, are you in trouble," Luke said casually as he leaned into the back seat of Ani's speeder to lift out the second crate of parts and oil.

"Figured. Where's Uncle…" Ani started, but before could finish the question, Owen himself burst into the garage.

"Where in blazes have you been?" he demanded. "I sent you to Mos Espa to pick up supplies, not--"

"Supplies are here, Uncle Owen," he broke in with a sigh. "Nothing was harmed, and none of this junk was so vital it couldn't wait until this morning to be stuffed in the back of the garage for half a season."

Luke stifled a laugh, and Owen glared at both of them. Jerking a finger at Luke, he ordered, "You get busy with your chores."

"I asked him to help me unload, Uncle Owen," Ani said. "Don't yell at him, okay?"

"You still haven't told me where you were," Owen arched an eyebrow expectantly.

"Spent the night with a friend, that's all," Ani told him as he hefted the crate he was carrying onto a shelf.

"We have antigrav units for that, you know," Owen reminded him sharply.

"It's not that heavy," Ani shook his head.

"You hurt your back carrying a crate and you're gonna be useless around here," Owen said.

"I know my limits," replied Ani good naturedly.

"Sure you do," Owen scoffed. "You kids think you're invincible, that's the problem. And what do you mean spending the night out with friends when there's work to be done here? You'd better not start picking up Luke's habits, Ani. I won't brook with both you boys shirking your duties around here all the time--"

"Uncle Owen," Ani set the crate down and turned to look at the farmer. He inclined his head slightly in a Jedi show of humility. "You're right. I should have come home. I apologize, and I'm sorry for causing you to worry."

"Well, you should be," Owen barked.

"Look, Uncle," Ani sighed, suddenly sounding weary. "I'm a Jedi Knight and the son of Obi Wan Kenobi. I know where my duties lie, and promise you I will continue to do them."

He finished with formal bow, shucked up his hood and climbed back into the speeder, blasting back out of the garage without another word. Luke and Owen both stared after him in amazement. When the younger brother finally managed to close his mouth, he turned to Owen and shook his head.

"Y'know, maybe he's just tired of being everybody's errand boy," he said before he followed Ani outside.

His brother had halted the speeder just outside the house and gestured to him. Luke sprinted over and jumped in, asking, "Are you okay?"

"Mmm," Ani nodded, absently reaching to seal the canopy before starting for home. "Mom and Dad upset with me?"

"No," Luke shook his head. "They said you can take care of yourself. They knew nothing was wrong."

"You tell them where I was?" Ani asked.

"I…sorta told Dad the other night that I didn't know why you'd wanna go to Mos Espa in the first place," Luke said.

"He believed you?" Ani arched an eyebrow.

"Well, I didn't outright lie, I just kinda…avoided saying anything. But I figured he would've been mad if I turned around and told him I really did know," Luke explained.

"Probably," Ani smiled faintly. "Thanks, kid."

Luke shrugged. "So…I guess it went well?"

Ani laughed. "I guess it did."

"When are you bringing her out here?" Luke wanted to know.

"I don't know," Ani rolled his eyes. "Was supposed to be tonight, but I think I better let Uncle Owen cool off a bit first."

"Might be a good idea," agreed Luke.

-----

Three weeks later, though, despite the fact that there had been ample time for Owen's temper to improve, Isaly had yet to meet the Kenobis and the Lars'. Ani wasn't sure why, and he had gone out to the old house on the edge of the Western Dune Sea, where most of the kids' Jedi training had been done, hoping that some time spent in meditation might help him figure out what he'd done wrong. Luke found him sitting on a rock outside and quietly lowered himself onto the ground beside his brother.

After a few moments, Ani opened an eye. His meditation had not gone very far yet. He was just to the point of isolating his thoughts from all language and social connections and at the edge of a simple unity with the Force. Returning was easy enough.

"What are you doing out here?" Luke asked.

"Meditating," replied Ani, closing his eye again.

"I can see that," said Luke.

"Good for you," Ani smiled.

"Why?"

Now Ani opened both eyes. "Why what?"

"Why are you meditating?" Luke asked.

"I'm a Jedi…?"

"Come on, Ani. Why are you out here meditating? I thought you were going to Mos Espa today," Luke prompted.

"I don't know if there's a point in going," Ani told him.

"What do you mean?"

"I've been out to see her three times. Once Watto said she was busy, once she was gone, and yesterday he just told me she didn't want to see me and to get lost," explained Ani.

"Well, maybe Watto's lying?" Luke asked.

"She was there yesterday. She had to know I'd come into the shop," Ani shook his head.

"Well, what are you gonna do?" Luke asked.

"Nothing," Ani said simply.

Luke stared. "What?"

"Luke, if she doesn't want to see me, I can't force her to. It's up to her," Ani said.

"But--you don't even know what you did!" protested Luke.

"Maybe I didn't do anything." Ani said, glancing down at his knees. "Maybe it has nothing to do with me. Or maybe she's changed her mind and decided that being involved with a Jedi is too risky."

"But you deserve to know that, Ani!" cried Luke.

"What I deserve doesn't change the reality of the situation," Ani told him calmly.

Luke shook his head in disbelief. "So, you're just gonna _sit_ here?"

"For the moment," Ani said. "I'm going to meditate."

"Well, I'm not!" Luke declared, pushing himself to his feet.

Ani smiled sadly and closed his eyes again.

-----

Luke knew that he was far from the Jedi that his father was. In fact, the truth was, he knew he was hardly the kind of Jedi that his brother was. Even so, he hadn't spent his life training beside Ani without learning a few things. So, he parked Ani's speeder out of sight and walked the rest of the way to Watto's junk shop, where he waited outside and kept himself entirely unseen until Isaly left for the day. Then, quite casually, he fell into step beside her.

"Hi," he smiled.

She jumped. "Where did you come from?"

He waved vaguely toward the wall where he'd been leaning a moment before. "Over there."

"I didn't…oh," Isaly sighed.

"Mind if I walk with you?" Luke asked.

"You already are, Luke," she pointed out.

"Well, yeah, I know," he said, scratching the back of his neck in thought.

"Is Ani with you?" she looked around uncomfortably.

"He doesn't know I'm here," Luke shook his head.

"Oh," she said.

Luke cleared his throat. "Well, I mean, he might know. He knew I was leaving. I didn't say where I was going, but he might've figured it out anyway. He's good at that."

"Good at what?" Isaly's eyebrows rose.

"Figuring things out," he explained.

"Oh," she repeated, and an awkward silence fell.

On the ride to Mos Espa, Luke had rehearsed his opening speech to Isaly several times. In fact, he'd entirely rewritten it twice. Now that he was here, he could hardly remember any of it, and the various versions seemed to be clashing in his mind. He inhaled deeply, drawing on the Force to clear his thoughts, and then bit his lip.

"Isaly, um…is everything okay?"

"I--why?" she coughed.

"Because you seem nervous," he said. "And Ani says you've been avoiding him."

"I haven't--okay, yesterday maybe I was. But, I didn't know he was there that first time. Watto was being a jerk that day. And then I really _wasn't_ there--I--" she bit her lip. "Luke, promise you won't tell Ani."

"Tell Ani what?" Luke asked in alarm.

"I wasn't there the day he came to see me because I was at the doctor--"

"Are you okay?" he cut her off, eyes widening as he searched her face. "Isaly, I can't keep that from my brother!"

"I'm fine," she assured him.

"Then what were doing at the doctor's? And why can't Ani know?"

"I--" she let out a long breath and stared at the ground.

"Isaly?" Luke frowned. "What is it?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Oh!" Luke let out a sigh of relief. "That's all?"

"All?" she looked up sharply.

"Well, what's the big deal? I mean…that's not what I mean. Sure it's a big deal. But, why are you avoiding Ani? I mean, he's gonna know eventually," Luke said, his brow furrowing more deeply in confusion.

"I know that," Isaly nodded. "But it's just that--he told me about your dad--Coruscant. He said that if your father goes back someday, he'd have to go too. And I didn't want him to think that I was trying to keep him here. That I did it on purpose or something."

"Well, Ani wouldn't think that," Luke shook his head.

"Are you sure?" Isaly asked.

"I know my brother better than anybody," Luke nodded. "Look, my speeder's not far from here. Why don't you come back to the farm with me tonight and talk to him?"

"I don't know…" she bit her lip again, as hope and apprehension began to reach him through the Force.

"He'd wanna know. And…if you're carrying Ani's baby, that makes you family now. Kenobis have this thing about family," Luke smiled.

------

Ani was still meditating when Luke pulled up in the speeder. The suns had set, but Ani didn't need their light to know who was in the speeder beside him. He sprang to his feet and hurried over to them, reaching Isaly just as she and Luke were climbing out of the vehicle. Luke moved quietly off toward the house, briefly touching his brother's arm as he went.

"I'm sorry," Isaly whispered, sliding her arms around Ani's neck.

"It's okay," he murmured as he held her. He could feel her shaking against him and frowned, pulling back. "Isaly, what's wrong? You're trembling."

"I'm all right," she promised.

"But something's wrong. I sense…" he trailed off, closing his eyes in concentration.

"Ani, I'm pregnant," she said softly.

"What?" he opened his eyes again, staring down at her in amazement as he felt a sizzle of confirmation in the Force. New life stirred in her womb in response to his touch. "Well, that's…that's wonderful!"

"What are we gonna do?" she asked, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He shook his head slowly. "What do you mean, 'what are we gonna do'? We're gonna have a family!"

"Just like that?" she asked.

"Why not?" he frowned.

"Anakin, I haven't even met your parents, or your Aunt and Uncle…" she bit her lip.

"Well," he grinned. "I think we can fix that."

Isaly nodded eagerly and lifted her face to kiss him. "Good idea," she whispered.

As their lips met, Qui-Gon appeared beside him, grinning as he clapped Ani on the shoulder. "Are you going to introduce her to me now, too?"

Isaly didn't react to the presence of the Jedi Spirit, and Ani knew that she still couldn't see him. _Don't you think that might be a bit overwhelming?_ he asked as he glanced over his shoulder and gestured to Luke.

"Possibly," Qui-Gon admitted.

Luke meandered over and turned a satisfied grin on Isaly and Ani. His brother laughed. "We owe you one, kid."

Luke shrugged. "Time to go home?"

"Sounds good to me," Isaly agreed.

The little group climbed back into the speeder, and only Ani was aware of the fourth passenger sitting beside Luke. He shook his head fondly at Qui-Gon's antics and tried not to laugh aloud as he guided the vehicle through the familiar landscape toward home. Qui-Gon leaned forward to touch his shoulder again.

"Well, Ani. You beat your father on this one. Yoda would be proud."


	69. Plans

Obi Wan and Padme were on the couch in the living room when their sons arrived home. Her head was nestled comfortably on his chest, and his lips rested against her hair. Both were more than half asleep, but they stirred at the sound of the speeder outside and helped each other up, walking into the kitchen as the boys came in.

Upon seeing that they had company, Padme moved immediately and smoothly into the role of hostess. After initial introductions were made, she set about making caf while Obi Wan watched with a quiet smile from the table and reminded her that he wasn't going to drink it anyway.

"Yes, I know, but someone else might," Padme replied easily.

"Well, I don't suppose I could have any Jawa Juice?" asked Obi Wan.

"It's called Jawa Beer out here, and no you can't," Padme said.

"Why not?" he complained good naturedly.

"It's not good for you," she replied.

Obi Wan mouthed the words along with her and then turned to Isaly. "You see, I knew she was going to say that. This is how things are around here."

"She's right," Isaly smiled.

"I know. She's always right," he winked.

"Remember that," Padme said.

"Darling, I have never forgotten it," he promised.

Ani waited until his mother returned to the table and sat down, then he cleared his throat. "Um…Mom, Dad, there's something else we need to tell you."

"Something besides the fact that you've been keeping Isaly from us for all this time?" Obi Wan asked, hiding a laugh at his oldest child's sudden discomfiture.

"Uh…well, yes, sir," Ani nodded, shooting a pleading look at Luke and Isaly.

"Hey, I'm staying out of this one," Luke snickered.

"I think you're doing fine," Isaly bit her lip.

"Something tells me this is not the news I had expected," Obi Wan remarked, rubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

Padme laid a hand on his shoulder. "Well, Obi Wan, let him talk."

"I'm waiting," replied the Jedi Master with the arch of an eyebrow.

"Well, you see, Dad, sir…Master…" Ani attempted.

"Yes, Anakin?"

Isaly covered the younger Jedi's hand with hers. "What Ani is trying to say is that we're going to have a baby."

Despite having come to expect this revelation over the course of the last several seconds, Obi Wan could only raise a hand to his face. "Oh, Anakin…"

"Well, darling," Padme reminded him with a bright smile, "You did say that you wanted him to make you a grandfather."

Obi Wan let his hand fall to the table again with an affectionate sigh for his wife. "I don't think this was the order I had in mind."

Padme's smile widened. "It may not be the order you wanted, but at least he did have hair before he started planning the wedding."

_"Hair?"_ Luke repeated.

"Wedding?" Ani coughed.

Isaly jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

"Oh. Heh. Of course. Wedding," he nodded.

"Excuse me," Obi Wan held up a hand. "Could I have ten seconds to _think_ about this?"

"Take all the time you need, Obi Wan," Padme teased, giving her future daughter-in-law a conspiratorial look. "Isaly and I will take care of everything."

"Oh," Obi Wan looked knowingly from one son to the other. "Of course."

The two women shared a laugh at their mens' expense, and the family passed the next hour or so in joking and small talk, Isaly getting to know Ani's parents as they got to know her. It was quickly apparent that, although the young woman's life had been far different from Obi Wan's and Padme's or even from the two boys', she would fit right in among them.

They decided that it would be too late for Isaly to return to Mos Espa that night, especially since Ani and Luke both still had to be up early to do farm chores in the morning. Padme got up to change to bedding in Leia's room, which she had still kept exactly as it had been since her daughter left for Alderaan. Isaly automatically rose to follow her.

"Here, let me help you," she offered.

Padme smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

Obi Wan rested his chin in his hand, watching them walk off together with a faintly wistful smile. The boys looked at him questioningly, and he gave a small shrug. "She misses your sister."

"We all do," Luke said quietly.

"Yes," his father nodded, resting a hand on his arm. "But it's different for your mother. She lives in a house full of men. Having Isaly here can't replace Leia, but it will be good for her."

"At least until the baby's born," Ani sighed.

"What?" Obi Wan asked.

"Well, we can't all stay here, can we?" frowned Ani.

"Why not? Your mother and I stayed with your grandparents on Naboo, remember?" Obi Wan pointed out.

"The house was a bit bigger, Dad," Ani reminded him.

Obi Wan smiled. "Well, it might get a bit cramped, but we'll manage. We always have."

"I could go stay with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru," Luke said.

Ani turned in surprise. "You'd do that?"

Luke shrugged. "There's plenty of room over there, and it's not like I'd be far. I could be here all the time anyway. You and Isaly could have Leia's room here, and the baby could have our room."

"Luke, you'd have Uncle Owen on you like a burr," Ani pointed out.

"At least I'd finally have my own room," Luke said. "Look, I don't mind. It'd be okay, wouldn't it, Dad?"

Obi Wan stroked his beard, considering for a moment, then slowly nodded. "As long as it's all right with your mother, it's all right with me."

"Now we just have to convince Uncle Owen," Ani said dubiously.

"Yeah," Luke laughed, pushing back his chair. "Well, I think I'll worry about that in the morning. I'm heading to bed. Night, Ani. Night, Dad."

"Night, kid," Ani nodded.

"Goodnight, Luke," said Obi Wan.

When he'd gone, Obi Wan and Ani sat in silence for a few minutes. It was a comfortable silence, the quiet of two men who knew each other so intrinsically that words were seldom necessary, of father and son whose respect and caring for one another ran so deep as to make words superfluous. They had seen the galaxy's darkest hour together and continued to safeguard their family in the shadow of the Galactic Empire. They'd seen and shared one another's most intimate pain, and were so alike in both temperament and philosophy that their thoughts and opinions often seemed more to merge than to simply echo one another. Obi Wan already understood why Ani had kept his relationship with Isaly a secret and expected no apology from his son, but it seemed that Ani felt the need to offer one.

"Dad, I'm sorry I didn't say anything," he began quietly.

"It's all right," Obi Wan shook his head in dismissal.

"I feel like I let you down somehow," Ani said.

"You've never let me down, Anakin. You've spent your whole life serving the Force, protecting others. You are becoming a far greater Jedi than I could ever be, and I have never been prouder of you than I am at this moment," his father promised.

-----

Padme was leaving Leia's room as Ani went to say good night to Isaly. Both paused in the hallway, and Ani bit his lip. "I guess I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't," Padme shook her head, reaching to brush her fingers softly through his hair.

"Well. Whether I do or not, thank you for making Isaly feel welcome here," he smiled.

"She is welcome here, Ani. Anyone you love is welcome in this house," Padme replied.

"Thanks, Mom," he said quietly.

Padme smiled and slid her arms around his neck. She gave him an affectionate squeeze and pressed her lips to his cheek, then slipped past him to go back into the kitchen. He watched her go for a few seconds, then tapped lightly on the closed door to Leia's room.

"Come in," Isaly called.

As he stepped over the threshold, he was suddenly struck with the fact that the woman he was looking at was about to become his wife. She was already the mother of his child. He offered a self conscious smile, also aware that his parents and brother were just outside the door. He'd have to get used to that, he supposed, but for the moment, it was a bit unsettling.

"Hi," Isaly said with an unusually shy smile of his own.

"Hi," he echoed. "I just wanted to say goodnight."

She nodded and crossed the room, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "Goodnight, farmboy."

"You know, you really should stop calling me that if you're going to live out here," he chuckled as he wound his arms around her.

"I guess I should," she admitted.

"So, you think you'll like being a farmboy's wife?" he asked.

"I think I could get used to it," she teased.

"Good," he laughed.

"Ani?" her voice became suddenly uncertain.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning.

"Seriously…do you think your parents really like me?" she asked.

"They love you, Isaly," he nodded.

"Really? You're not just saying that because you think it's what I want to hear?" she persisted.

"I wouldn't lie to you," he promised.

"Okay," she murmured.

"Isaly, why wouldn't they like you?" he wanted to know.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess it's just that the only family I really remember is Watto--and he pretends he doesn't like anyone. It'd be nice to be part of a real family, and your parents are…"

"What?" he asked.

"Well, they're…wonderful," she smiled up at him.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"So, I just really wanted them to like me," she finished.

"Well, you don't have anything to worry about, honey. I promise," he assured her. Then, he took a step back and clasped her hand, leading her over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Listen, I've been thinking about something."

"What's that?" she frowned.

"Well…if it's a boy. I'd really like to name him after my father," Ani said.

"I couldn't think of anyone better," she agreed.

"What about Watto?" Ani asked with a laugh.

"I don't know…Watto Kenobi?" she giggled.

"Yeah, you're right. It just doesn't have the right ring," he nodded.

"So, what if it's a girl?" she asked.

"If it's a girl, we'll name her Isaly," Ani said decisively.

"Isaly!" she exclaimed, shaking her head.

"What's wrong with Isaly?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I don't want her to be called Isaly," she insisted.

"I like the name Isaly," he said.

"Well, I don't," she told him firmly.

"Okay," he sighed. "So do you have a better idea?"

"I might…"

-----

Padme walked back into the kitchen, slipping her hand onto her husband's shoulder. Her fingers tightened in a light squeeze, and Obi Wan covered her hand with his, craning his neck to look up at her. As soon as their eyes met, both began to laugh.

"Hi, Grandpa," she winked.

"Hello, Grandma," he laughed.

"You were really mean to him, you know," she chided lightly.

"I know. The best part was, 'Well, you see Dad, sir…Master…'" he shook his head.

She wrapped both arms around his neck and rested her chin against his head. "I almost couldn't keep a straight face."

"I'm glad you did. It would have completely ruined the effect," he said.

"So, what do you think, boy or girl?" she asked.

"Girl. Definitely. There are too many boys around here already," he replied.

"And you'll spoil her far worse than you ever did Leia," Padme predicted.

"Of course. That's what a Grandpa's for," he agreed.

"I guess you won't be training her in the ways of the Force then," Padme smiled. "It's rather hard to maintain the appropriate modicum of discipline when you're also known to spoil the child rotten."

"I suppose you're right," he mused. "Well. We'll just have to leave all the unpleasantness to her father."

"Sounds wonderful," she admitted.

"Do you think your parents had this conversation when we told them you were pregnant with Ani?" he asked.

"Probably," she chuckled, kissing the top of his head. "I love you."

"Always."


	70. To Prosper You

Watto had not been happy with Isaly's announcement that she was leaving to move onto the Lars' farm. He seemed to hold it as a personal affront on Owen's part, since Owen's father had also deprived him of the company of Shmi Skywalker. The Lars' just liked to take what wasn't theirs, he said, and it didn't seem to matter to him that Ani Kenobi was not, in fact, the biological nephew of Owen and Beru, even according to the cover story that the Kenobis were using to explain their presence on Tatooine.

That didn't stop him from attending the wedding, however. The family was more than glad to see him there for Isaly's sake, but when he and Owen started bickering before the ceremony had even begun, Isaly herself threatened to stuff the Toydarian in the closet for the duration. Owen actually laughed until Ani addressed a similar threat to him, then the farmer resumed his usual glower.

As they stood watching their oldest child repeat his wedding vows, Obi Wan and Padme both felt the same mingled sense of joy and sadness, accomplishment and loss. She rested her head on his shoulder as his arm slipped around her waist. Their minds echoed back and forth to one another the same thoughts and images: flashes of their own wedding day, the eternal promise between them which now seemed realized in a way that neither could have imagined at the time; holding this young man as an infant, the pride and fear of presenting him to Master Yoda at Varyinko, laughing together over the idea of this very day--_Shouldn't he have hair before we start planning the wedding?_ Then the ache of the war years, the heavy weight of separation and the brief, tender, golden moments of reunion; the agony of his suffering after the temple burned and their own helplessness in its aftermath. Finally, the bittersweet tears of watching Ani grow from a boy to a man on Tatooine. It was a fitting place, but not the place that they would have chosen. This was not the peace that they had hoped for, but it was peace, and despite what it had cost them, it had helped shape their son into the man he had become. This planet and the peace they had found here had given them all Isaly, and it was soon to bring a new face into their family--a new heir for the legacy of the Naberries, the Kenobis, the Lars', and even the Skywalkers.

Her name was going to be Shmi--Shmi Skywalker Lars Kenobi--and although it was not what they would have planned or chosen, her grandparents felt that it was also fitting that she should be here today as well. She would witness her parents' union from within her mother's womb, but someday they would tell her of this moment. They would tell her that as much as their hopes had been with her parents today, they had also been with her. Owen, Beru, and Padme--even Watto--would tell her of the woman for whom she had been named. Anakin and Obi Wan would tell her of the uncle that she would never know, and she would grow up knowing that Tatooine breeds love as much as hardship.

Qui-Gon appeared beside Obi Wan, and though it was rare that Padme saw the Jedi Spirit, she saw him now. She raised her head from her husband's shoulder to find a satisfied smile on his former Master's lips. She smiled as well then lowered her head again, and Obi Wan kissed her hair softly before turning to Qui-Gon.

"You have done well, my Padawan," Qui-Gon said.

"Not without you, Master," Obi Wan inclined his head.

"Your son has surpassed all my expectations," said Qui-Gon.

"And mine," Obi Wan agreed.

"Well," Qui-Gon amended. "He has surpassed all my expectations except one."

"Which one?" frowned Obi Wan.

"I expected him to surpass them. I knew he would. He is your son," replied the Force Ghost.

Obi Wan smiled. "I think that I am prouder of him today than I was the day we Knighted him."

"Of course. Then you were his Jedi Master. Today you are his father," Qui-Gon said.

Obi Wan gave a small laugh and turned to look at his wife again. "Isn't that what you said last night?"

"Have you forgotten already?" Padme teased.

"I was half asleep," he winked.

"You really should learn to listen to her more closely, Obi Wan," Qui-Gon shook his head. "Congratulations, Padme."

"Thank you, Qui-Gon," she smiled in response, but although that smile was genuine, Padme's contentment was not perfect on this day. Someone was still missing.

-----

The birth was not going well. Isaly's labor had lasted almost nine hours already, and with a sandstorm howling outside, there was no way to summon help. Padme and Beru had sent Ani back out to the kitchen a few hours ago, and since then the Knight had remained at the table beside his father, Owen, and Luke. Meditation failed him--failed all of them, even his father, though Obi Wan's thoughts and feelings were far more tranquil than Ani's.

The young Knight watched his father get up from the table now, go through the motions of making caf for the others and then return the table, all without a word. Before he sat down again, Obi Wan laid a hand on his son's shoulder and gave a compassionate squeeze. Another time, Ani might have smiled at the gesture. Now, he was too conscious of Isaly's pain and fading strength in the other room.

Obi Wan slid back into his seat at the table. No one spoke, and the waiting continued. Ani wondered if this was how his father and Uncle Anakin had felt on the way back from Yavin 4 on the day he was born. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he felt a pang of grief. Almost as quickly, though, he let the pain and sadness go.

Owen and Luke sipped halfheartedly at their caf. Ani couldn't touch his at all. As the night wore on, he found himself staring off toward the bedroom where his wife's cries of pain were becoming weaker. More than anything, he wanted to be in there. He belonged in there, but this was not Alderaan, and they had no spacious operating theatre at their disposal, no med-droids to assist with the labor, and he knew that he would only have been in his mother and Aunt Beru's way.

He steepled his fingers and pressed them to his face, closed his eyes and continued waiting. Finally, he felt a stirring in the Force and jerked his head up again. There was a breaking, a rushing forth of energy that he had only felt once before. He and Obi Wan were on their feet in the same moment, and Luke followed only seconds later.

"What?" asked Owen, frowning.

"She's here," Obi Wan explained.

"She'd be crying," the farmer contradicted.

The three Jedi only smiled and walked toward the bedroom, Obi Wan and Luke hanging back to let Ani take the lead. They waited outside the door for a while, until it was opened by Padme, who cradled the tiny, eerily quiet infant Shmi in her arms. Tearfullly, she laid the baby in her son's waiting arms, and Ani gently moved back the blanket to peer at the wrinkled pink face of his newborn daughter.

_Hello, little one,_ he said silently, tears of relief and joy beginning to stream down his face.

"Just a few minutes," Padme whispered, glancing toward Isaly. Beru was still beside her, but the young mother was struggling to keep her gaze on Ani and their daughter.

"All right," he agreed, brushing his lips against his mother's cheek as he edged past her into the room.

"Ani?" Isaly asked weakly as he slid onto the edge of the bed. "Is she…?"

"She's perfect," he whispered, shifting their daughter into her mother's arms. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers, barely registering the touch his Aunt Beru gave his shoulder before she slipped quietly out into the hall with the rest of his family.

-----

As soon as she'd been fed, Padme and Beru entrusted the newborn Shmi to her father and sent him back to the kitchen with Obi Wan, Luke, and Owen. Isaly was beyond exhaustion by then, and she fell asleep even before the two older women had finished cleaning up. They left as quietly as they could so as not to disturb her and each went to avail themselves of a sonic shower.

When she was finished, Padme returned to the kitchen to find Ani still holding the baby while Obi Wan and Owen stood on either side of him, cooing over her as if neither of them had ever seen a newborn before. Luke, who actually hadn't, was hanging back against the wall with an uncertain and comically wary expression that reminded her suddenly of Anakin Skywalker on the day that his namesake had been born.

Beru had showered first and was already at the table. She turned as Padme came in and gave her a smile that only two women could share. Padme returned it, moving inside to give her friend's arm a squeeze before she drifted over to stand behind Ani.

"Ani," she whispered, resting her hand on his shoulder. He turned his head questioningly toward her, and she briefly let her eyes flick toward Luke.

He nodded faintly in understanding, then looked from Owen to Obi Wan with a small laugh. "Excuse me just a moment, Grandpa…Uncle Owen…"

"What?" Owen asked.

"I think we've forgotten someone," Obi Wan said knowingly.

Ani smoothly stepped away and crossed the room to his brother, and Padme slipped forward into her husband's waiting arms. She rested her cheek against his chest for a moment, then watched as their younger son turned white and tried to disappear into the wall behind him. Obi Wan's fingers lightly stroked her back, and she could feel him restraining the same laughter that she was struggling against.

"Hey, Uncle Luke. You wanna hold her?" Ani offered, grinning.

"I…um…" Luke bit his lip.

Ani cast a meaningful glance back at his father and Owen. "Well, if you do, you'd better hurry up and say so. I don't think I can keep them away for very long."

"Well, I…uh…" Luke repeated.

Ani's smile softened, and he carefully laid the baby in his brother's arms. She let out a brief squall of protest, then abruptly seemed to realize that the new person was all right and quieted again. Luke looked from her to Ani in amazement.

"Hey, she likes me!" he exclaimed.

"She loves you," Ani said, his voice tightening. "You're her uncle."

-----

"You are so beautiful," Obi Wan told his wife later that night. The sandstorm was still raging outside, and the Lars' were bedded down in their living room for the night. Luke, after his initial apprehension was overcome, had become fascinated with his new niece and, much to Owen's surprise, was more than willing to spend the night on the floor in her room. Ani and Isaly were both asleep in their room for the moment, leaving the house quiet except for the storm.

Padme set down the brush in her hand and turned away from the vanity table, offering him a knowing smile. "You still see the Queen of Naboo."

Lying in bed on the other side of the room, Obi Wan shook his head. "The Queen of Naboo was lovely, and I will never forget her. She was also a girl in as many ways as I was still a boy. When I look you now, I see a woman. I see the woman who has stood beside me all of my life, who reminded me that we are a family when I wanted to make us only the rebirth of the Jedi Order, who made a home of the desert. I see the mother of my children and my best friend."

She felt tears prick her eyes as she pushed back her chair and went to him. Lowering herself back down on the edge of the bed, she laid her hand against his cheek. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

"A crusty old Jedi with rheumatism," he said.

"You don't have rheumatism," she laughed.

"I might as well. I'm crusty and old," he shrugged.

Padme shook her head fondly. "When I look at you, I see a man who has never lost the courage to follow his convictions, a hero of the Republic, a man who had the strength to learn to be both a Jedi and a father to my children. I see my partner, my knight, and my best friend."

"I love you," he said softly.

"And I love you," she replied. She slipped under the covers beside him and rested her head against his heart, feeling sudden sadness settle in her chest.

"I miss her too," he whispered without having to ask.

"I know," she smiled sadly. "The family isn't complete without her. She should have been here today."

"She will be someday," he promised.

Padme nodded and closed her eyes, reassured, as she always was, by the beating of his heart.


	71. And Not To Harm You

ANH begins here, three years after the close of the last chapter. My reference for Chapters 71 through the end of the film will be _Star Wars: A New Hope_ by George Lucas.

See my author page for the full disclaimer.

-----

"The Force…?" Shmi blinked up at her father with huge, limpid brown eyes, very much like her grandmother's, and Ani melted. Despite the fact that his daughter knew well what the Force was, he could never resist this ploy.

He sank down on the bed beside her and reached a gentle finger to wipe the sleep from her eyes as he spoke. "Well, the Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together."

"G'apa says it better," the three-year-old said frankly.

"Well, I'm sorry. He's had more practice," Ani sighed.

Leaning against the doorway with her hand lightly on the swell of her second pregnancy, Isaly laughed at their antics. "I thought you were getting her up, Ani."

"Well, I was," he nodded. "She just…wasn't ready yet."

"Mom's putting breakfast on the table," Isaly shook her head. "She'd better _get_ ready or she'll be eating it cold this time."

"Well, Little One," Ani looked meaningfully at the toddler. "You heard her. And you know she means it. We'd better get a move on."

Shmi gave a dramatic sigh and pushed herself off the pillows. She flung her arms around her father's neck and waited for him to pick her up. Ani did so, holding her against his side as he followed Isaly out to the kitchen where his mother was taking her seat. He stopped beside her, bending to allow Shmi to kiss her cheek before he deposited the girl into her customary seat--Obi Wan's lap.

"I don't know what you're going to do when the twins are born, Dad," he shook his head.

"I'm going to need a bigger lap," his father replied.

Ani had predicted that the twins would be born on Shmi's third birthday. That day came and went, though, and he was forced to concede that, unlike himself and his siblings, his children would celebrate different birthdays. Shmi didn't mind, of course. She wasn't entirely certain that she liked the idea of siblings anyway. She was quite content to be the center of the universe, especially when it came to the attention of a certain member of the family. Siblings, especially two at a time, were bound to divert some of her grandfather's focus.

"Mine," she said now, clinging to him.

"Shmi, isn't there enough of Grandpa to share?" he asked.

"No…" she shook her head, looking at him as if he should well have known the answer.

"This could be a problem," he sighed.

"Until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction," Padme grinned.

"Very funny," he replied.

Everyone laughed, and the meal was passed happily enough, though Ani grew quiet as it progressed. Isaly began to watch him, a frown creasing her brow. Ani was not by nature as boisterous or excitable as his brother, Luke. He tended to say less than those around him, even among family where he was comfortable and relaxed. He watched and listened, absorbing everything around him with a clarity and depth that often startled her, even after three years of marriage. This silence was difference, though. As it deepened, it was becoming pensive, almost withdrawn, and she was reluctant to press him about it. Fortunately, though, breakfast was finished and the bustle of the day began, which seemed to draw him out again.

"Whose turn is it help Little One get dressed?" Padme asked as she and her daughter-in-law rose to start clearing the table. Usually, that task was Isaly's. She and Shmi had a long established morning routine, but in the late months of pregnancy, chasing after an active three-year-old who didn't like to get dressed was difficult, and the rest of the family had taken to substituting for her.

"I'll do it," Ani said, offering a smile that reassured his wife.

"Well, you'd better hurry if you're going to go over to Uncle Owen's this afternoon," Isaly smiled. "It always takes you all morning to get her dressed."

"I don't think I'm going to go," he said.

"Why not? I thought you wanted to make sure that if he got a translator, it spoke Bocce."

"I have a bad feeling," he replied with a pensive frown.

"What kind of feeling?" Isaly asked.

"I don't know," he replied, looking questioningly at his father.

Obi Wan nodded. "I've had it for a few days, off and on. Luke has too."

"I think I'm going out to the old house to meditate," Ani said.

"I'll come with you," his father agreed.

"Me too!" cried Shmi.

"No, Little One," the younger Jedi said, pushing back his chair. "You stay here and take care of Mom and Grandma."

Isaly watched him pick her up again and carry her back toward the bedroom with a worried frown. Padme rested a hand on her daughter-in-law's arm, and the two women shared a long look. No one had said it, but she had been a Kenobi long enough to realize that this kind of "bad feeling" could only mean some disturbance in the Force. Luke and Leia were now eighteen. The time might well be coming when the family would have to end their exile. Coming out of hiding, though, would mean leaving the security of Tatooine. It would mean that both of their husbands were going forth to war. Under other circumstances, their wives would have gone with them. Now though, Isaly was nine months pregnant.

"It will be all right," Padme said softly.

Isaly only nodded, but Padme could sense the young mother's fear and uncertainty. Obi Wan covered her hand with his. "The Force will be with us, Isaly. All of us."

"The Force is strong with the Kenobi children," Padme added.

As if in response to the statement, Shmi came running out of the bedroom still in pajamas and climbed back onto Obi Wan's lap. Ani followed a few seconds later, and the toddler's chubby arms wound tightly around her grandfather's neck. She hid her face in his chest, pretending to be scared as her father appeared in the kitchen, and even Isaly laughed, the tension in the room dissolving in the happy presence of the little girl they all loved.

"I don't think she wants to get dressed," Obi Wan observed.

"I gathered that," Ani replied with a longsuffering sigh.

"What do you want to do, Little One?" Obi Wan asked his granddaughter.

She lifted her head slightly and peeked up at him, slowly allowing a grin to spread over her face. "I don't know…" she said in a mischievous tone that told him just _exactly_ what she had in mind.

At the table beside them, Isaly smiled. "You want to pull Grandpa's beard again?"

Obi Wan leveled his daughter-in-law a hard look. "You are supposed to be the disciplinarian. And Grandpa's beard is not for pulling."

"Well, what else is Grandpa's beard for?" Padme wanted to know.

"It's to keep Grandpa's face warm," replied her husband instantly.

"Grandpa lives in the desert. He doesn't need a beard for that," she countered.

Obi Wan rolled his eyes and looked down at the little girl who was now eyeing his chin whiskers with distinctly evil intent. "Grandma thinks she's funny, doesn't she?"

Shmi giggled.

"Oh. You think Grandma's funny too, I suppose," the Jedi Master sighed.

"Just wait until the twins are born, Dad," Isaly told him. "You won't have a beard left."

"Yes, I can't wait," he groaned. Then he looked down at the three-year-old again. "All right. I'll make you deal."

"What?" she asked.

"If I let you pull my beard once, will you go get dressed?" he offered.

Around him, his family all burst out laughing. "You're hopeless!" Padme declared.

"I don't see any of you offering a better solution," he told her.

"We don't need to as long as you have whiskers," she retorted.

"Oh, very funny. How about it, Shmi?" he asked.

She bit her lip, pondering, and after a few moments of consideration, she grinned again, declaring, "No get dressed!"

"Then no beard pulling," he pronounced.

She pouted.

He sighed. "Do you know something? You are entirely too much like your Aunt Leia when she was your age."

"Story…?" Shmi asked hopefully.

"Well, all right," her grandfather said. "I'll tell you one story _after_ you get dressed."

She sighed and climbed down out of his lap. Offering her hand to him with a winning smile, she asked, "G'apa come?"

"All right," he said again, taking her hand. "I'll come with you. Looks like you get out of it again, Ani."

"Well, you're just so much better at letting her get away with murder, Dad," Ani replied as the pair left the kitchen again.

Padme laughed as she watched them go, but her smile faded as soon as Shmi was gone. Isaly turned to her "Do you know what it's about, Mom?" she asked quietly.

Drawing in a long breath, Padme closed her eyes, testing and considering. She opened them again, glanced briefy toward her son, and they said together, "Leia."

------

The smoky halls of the _Tantive IV_ held an unexpected familiarity for Darth Vader. Pain lingered here, burned into the metal superstructure, held there in the traces of Force energy still present in the elements themselves. It was a strange sensation, one that he could not explain, but which only confirmed his conviction that the Princess of Alderaan was not who she appeared to be. He reached out to grasp the neck of one of her Rebel companions. As his finger tightened around his victim's neck, one of his own men ran up to him.

"The Death Star plans are not in the main computer," he said.

"Where are those transmissions you intercepted?" Vader's grip tightened and he lifted the Rebel off the ground. "What have you done with those plans?"

"We intercepted no transmissions," insisted the Rebel as he began to gasp in pain. "This is a consular ship. We're on a diplomatic mission."

The Dark Lord simply tightened his fingers, taking pleasure in the gruesome snapping and choking, until the soldier went limp--as limp as the body of a youngling he'd once skewered on his lightsaber. A voice rose out of his memories, breaking with anguish as it had all those years ago.

_Uncle Anakin, what are you doing?_

Vader tossed the dead soldier ruthlessly against the wall and turned to his troops. That voice was dead. The boy was dead. "Commander, tear this ship apart until you've found those plans and bring me the Ambassador. I want her alive!"

The stormtroopers scurried into the subhallways, and Vader himself continued to stalk the ship. He had seen the Princess of Alderaan once before, when she was presented at the Imperial Court on Coruscant. Even then he had sensed something from her, a faint ripple in the flow of the Force, but he had been unable to pinpoint the cause. The Emperor felt that she was hiding something at the time as well--and yet, oddly, neither had sensed conscious deception in her. Now, Vader still wasn't entirely certain what her connection to his former Master could be, but it should not have surprised him to find Obi Wan somehow involved with the Rebel Alliance.

Kenobi had been here once, he was sure of that. Perhaps it was simply that presence which stirred such strong echoes of pain and betrayal in Vader now. Yes. Only that. Only those echoes which dredged up thoughts of the boy. Yet Anakin Skywalker's namesake seemed etched upon this ship, and as far as he knew, little Ani had never set foot on the craft.

He would discover the truth, though. He would know. And when he did, he would have both Obi Wan and the Rebellion. Once the Rebellion was crushed and Kenobi dead, Vader, at long last, would reveal his own secret to his Master. With the end of the Rebellion, Palpatine would have defeated the last obstacle between Vader and galactic domination.

_You don't need any more power, Uncle…_

Enough. Vader clamped off his thoughts as he had clamped his hand around the traitor's throat a few moments ago, and waited for the Princess to be brought to him. When his troops returned, it seemed that the lovely Leia had resisted and been shot unconscious. If it had been possible, Darth Vader would have smiled--a cruel and vicious smile, twisted by bitterness and the Dark Side of the Force. Since he couldn't, he contented himself to wait she had been roused from her unintentional slumber. He had learned to be patient over the last eighteen years. He had learned many things.

When they brought her to him, her hands were bound in front of her. He watched from the smoke-filled shadows as she was forced along the low-ceilinged corridor. Though she appeared to be frail as she struggled along, Vader knew that this young woman was anything but weak or fragile. He came forward slowly, using his appearance as a weapon of terror as he stared her down, but Leia Organa felt only contempt. That would change.

"Lord Vader, I should have known. Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit for this, when they hear you've attacked a diplomatic--" she began.

"Don't play games with me, Your Highness. You weren't on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted system. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you," Vader cut her off.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan--

"You're a part of the Rebel Alliance...and a spy!" Vader broke in again. Lies. Traitors. He was tired of them. "Take her away!"

Leia was marched back down the hallway and into the smoldering hole blasted in the side of the ship. Vader watched her go until the man beside him began to speak, but his words were of little concern to the Dark Lord.

"Holding her is dangerous. If word of this gets out, it could generate sympathy for the Rebellion in the Senate," he prattled, not knowing that there soon would be no Senate in which for such traitorous sympathy to grow.

"I have traced the Rebel spies to her. Now she is my only link to find their secret base!" Vader told him.

"She'll die before she tells you anything," he predicted.

"Leave that to me. Send a distress signal and then inform the Senate that all aboard were killed!" ordered Vader.


	72. Plans To Give You

Slump-shouldered, Luke followed Owen out of the shadows toward the Sandcrawler that was now parked beside the homestead. He still couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that had been growing in him for the last few days. The last place that he really wanted to be right now was trading for droids with the filthy little Jawas, but since Ani hadn't shown up, he was stuck. It wasn't like his brother not to show up like this, and it only made him more unsettled.

"Luke…" Aunt Beru called.

He turned, jogging back toward the house. She met him in the main courtyard.

"Luke, tell Uncle that if he gets a translator to be sure it speaks Bocce," Aunt Beru said.

He glanced ruefully back toward the Sandcrawler, where his uncle was inspecting the Jawas' wares with an eye that the he knew was deceptively practiced and discerning. "It doesn't look like we have much of a choice, but I'll remind him," he sighed.

As he started back, Beru reached out to lay a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head and heaved a bigger sigh. "I don't know, Aunt Beru. I've got a bad feeling. But Uncle Owen doesn't want to hear about that."

Without waiting for her to reply, he turned again, trudging back through the dust to where Owen was haggling with the Jawas. Owen had already chosen a red and white R2 unit and was now discussing the virtues--or lack thereof--of a certain gold protocol droid.

"I have no need for a protocol droid," Owen said dismissively.

"Of course not, sir," the droid broke in quickly. "Not in an environment such as this.  
that's why I've also been programmed for over thirty secondary functions that…"

"What I really need is a droid that understands the binary language of moisture vaporators," Owen interrupted.

"Vaporators!" the droid exclaimed. "Sir, my first job was programming binary load  
lifters...very similar to your vaporators. You could say--"

"Do you speak Bocce?" asked Owen.

"Of course I can, sir. It's like a second language for me. I'm as fluent in Bocce--"

"All right shut up!" Owen barked. Turning to the Jawa, he said, "I'll take this one.

"Shutting up, sir," the droid said placatingly.

"Luke, take these two over to the garage, will you? I want you to have both of them cleaned up before dinner," Owen said.

"But I wanted to go home and check…"

"There's nothing wrong over there that your father and Ani can't handle. And if it's Isaly, there's not a thing you're going to do to help. We'll all end up sitting in the kitchen again. Now come on, get to it!" insisted Owen.

He grit his teeth. It _wasn't_ Isaly. He was sure of that. He was also sure that he knew exactly what the problem was--or at least _who_--but there was no way of explaining that to Owen. With nothing else left to do, he turned his attention to the droids. "All right, come on! And the red one, come on. Well, come on, Red, let's go!"

As the Jawas started to lead the three remaining droids back into the Sandcrawler, a blue R2 unit lets out a pathetic little beep and started after them. A slimy Jawa nearby activated the restraining bolt, sending a jolt of blue current through the little guy, and Luke felt a twinge of sympathy before he turned to lead the two that his uncle had just bought toward the garage. He had only gone a short distance when the head-plate of the red astromech popped off, causing a shower of sparks.

"Uncle Owen…!" Luke called in disgust.

"Yeah?" the farmer half turned toward him.

"This R2 unit has a bad motivator. Look!" Luke told him.

"Hey, what're you trying to push on us?" Owen growled at the Jawa beside him.

As the Jawa went into a long spiel of explanation, the protocol droid tapped Luke on the shoulder, indicating the blue astromech. "Excuse me, sir, but that R2 unit is in prime condition. A real bargain."

"Uncle Owen…?" Luke called again.

"Yeah?" repeated the farmer.

"What about that one?" he waved a hand to indicate the blue unit.

"What about that blue one? We'll take that one," Owen told the Jawas, who reluctantly moved to take back the defective red and trade it for the blue.

"Yeah, take it away," Luke told the vile little creature.

"Uh, I'm quite sure you'll be very pleased with that one, sir. He really is in first-class condition. I've worked with him before. Here he comes," the protocol droid said.

"Okay, let's go," Luke told the pair, trudging off toward the garage.

Inside, he prepared an oil bath for the protocol droid and plugged the R2 in for recharging by the used X-34 he'd bought from Ani when his brother decided that his growing family would require more reliable transportation. Then he wandered over to the Skyhopper now resting in a low hangar off the garage.

"Thank the maker! This oil bath is going to feel so good. I've got such a bad case of dust contamination, I can barely move!' the golden droid exclaimed.

The astromech beeped a muffled reply, but Luke barely registered the exchange. He ran his hand over the damaged fin of the airspeeder, lost in his own thoughts. He had run into Biggs the other day, and his old friend had secretly confided that he was planning to join the Rebellion. At the time he had been practically willing to break his agreement with Owen, pack a bag and tag along. His parents couldn't have objected too strenuously if he had told them he was going. Wasn't the Rebellion what this was all about? Hadn't they been hiding out here in the desert all these years in hopes of putting an end to the Empire? Now, though, even the thought of the Rebellion didn't matter to him. Nothing did, because Leia was in some kind of trouble--he _knew_ she was--and he could do nothing for her. He could do nothing because he was stuck here, when he _should_ have been with her the whole time. He was trapped on Tatooine because he had _chosen_ to be.

_I should have gone with her!_ he told himself as he grabbed a wrench and hurled it furiously across the workbench.

"It just isn't fair! Oh, Biggs is right! I'm never gonna get out of here--and if I can't…" he let out a growl, but was interrupted by the calmly polite voice of the protocol droid.

"Is there anything I might do to help?" the droid asked.

Luke glanced at him in surprise and a tiny smile crept over his face. "Well, not unless you can alter time, speed up the harvest, or teleport me off this rock!"

"I don't think so, sir. I'm only a droid and not very knowledgeable about such things. Not on this planet, anyway. As a matter of fact, I'm not even sure which planet I'm on," remarked the droid.

"Well, if there's a bright center to the universe, you're on the planet that it's farthest from," Luke told him ruefully.

"I see, sir," said the droid.

"Uh, you can call me Luke…"

"I see, sir Luke."

Finally, he allowed a laugh at the droid's antics. "Just Luke."

"And I am See Threepio, human-cyborg relations, and this is my counterpart, Artoo Detoo," replied the droid.

"Hello," Luke said with a touch of amusement.

Artoo beeped his own greeting. Luke unplugged him and picked up a chrome pick, then set to work scraping several connectors on the droid's domed head. Meanwhile, Threepio climbed out of the oil tub and began wiping oil from his golden body.

"You've got a lot of carbon scoring here. It looks like you boys have seen a lot of action," Luke remarked.

"With all we've been through, sometimes I'm amazed we're in as good condition as we are, what with the Rebellion and all…" Threepio trailed off.

"You know of the Rebellion against the Empire?" Luke asked eagerly.

"That's how we came to be in your service, if you take my meaning, sir," replied Threepio.

"Have you been in many battles?" Luke wanted to know.

"Several, I think. Actually, there's not much to tell. I'm not much more than an interpreter, and not very good at telling stories. Well, not at making them interesting, anyway," the droid apologized.

As they talked, Luke struggled to remove a small metal fragment from Artoo's  
neck joint. The pick in his hand proved to be useless, so he set it down and grabbed another one, then went determinedly back to work.

"Well, my little friend, you've got something jammed in here real good. Were you on a cruiser or…"

The fragment broke loose with a sudden snap, sending Luke tumbling head over heels. As he sat up, he saw flickering rainbow which resolved into a twelve-inch three-dimensional hologram of a dark haired, elegant and fragile-seeming young woman--a young woman whose face he knew better than his own, even after almost ten years apart. There was an almost electric crackle in the Force, and he stared at her, his mouth dropping open in awe.

_"Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."_

"What's this?" he asked the droids, swallowing hard. It took him a moment to comprehend the words, to process the fact that, although _he_ knew Leia, she would have no idea that she was addressing her own father with that statement.

Artoo looked around and sheepishly beeped an answer for Threepio to translate. Al the while, Leia's voice continued the plea. With each repetition, her twin found it more difficult to breathe.

"What is what?!? He asked you a question!" Threepio cried in exasperation, pointing at Leia.  
"What is that!"

_"Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope. Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."_

"Oh, he says it's nothing, sir. Merely a malfunction. Old data. Pay it no mind," Threepio was saying.

"No, no!" Luke interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. "Listen--listen to me, this is very important. I know this girl--I have to know where she is!"

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure, sir," said Threepio. "I think she was a passenger on our last voyage. A person of some importance. I believe. Our captain was attached to…"

"Is there more to this recording?" Luke cut him off, reaching toward Artoo.

In response, the astromech let out a series of angry beeps and a whistle, and Luke could only wait with growing frustration while the droids bickered.

"Behave yourself, Artoo. You're going to get us in trouble. It's all right, you can trust him. He's our new master," Threepio scolded.

Artoo whistled and beeped again, longer this time.

"He says he's the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a resident of these parts. And it's a private message for him. Quite frankly, sir I don't know what he's talking about. Our last master was Captain Raymus Antilles, but with what we've been through, this little R2 unit has become a bit eccentric," Threepio explained apologetically.

"It's…it's okay," Luke shook his head in disbelief, running a hand through his hair. He wet his lips. "Look, Artoo. You can give me the message. Obi Wan Kenobi is my father. He lives here. Well--not here, exactly…"

Artoo responded with a loud squawk and a clearly disbelieving whistle. Threepio looked frantically from him to Luke and said, "I beg your pardon, sir, but he wants to know if you can prove it."

"Well, not at the moment!" Luke replied sharply. "Look, we don't have time for this. Leia's in trouble. _I have to hear the rest of that message."_

Artoo twittered a reply.

"He says the restraining bolt has short circuited his recording system. He suggests that if you remove the bolt, he might be able to play back the entire recording," Threepio explained.

Luke hardly heard him. He was staring, transfixed, at the image of his sister, more aware with every playback of the fear she felt, and one thought echoed through his mind. _I have to help her._

"Hmm?" he said absently. "Oh, yeah, well, I guess you're too small to run away on me if I take this off! Okay."

But as soon as he had pried off the restraining bolt, the flickering image of his sister vanished.

"Well, wait a minute. Where'd she go? Bring her back! Play back the entire message!" Luke cried.

Artoo beeped innocently and Threepio sat up, giving him a hard thunk on the head. "What message? The one you're carrying in your rusty little innards!"

Luke ran a hand over his face. Just then, Aunt Beru's voice called from the kitchen, but he was already vaulting into the X-34. "All right, then come on. Dad will know how to get it back. If he's not at the house tonight, we'll go out to the Jundland Wastes after him. Well, come on!"

-----

Luke burst into the kitchen about halfway through dinner. Padme and Isaly both turned and stared in surprise, while Shmi scrambled out of her seat and raced across the kitchen floor to throw her arms around her uncle. Luke automatically bent to pick her up, but his eyes were moving frantically around the room, then down into the hall beyond. Padme knew what his question would be before he even spoke, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Is Dad here?"

She shook her head. "No, he and Ani left this morning for the old house. They said they were going to meditate, but they've been gone all day. What is it? What's going on?"

"It's Leia. She's in trouble," he replied.

"Aunt Leia in trouble?" Shmi echoed with a frown.

"What kind of trouble?" Padme asked urgently.

"I'm not sure yet. This little R2 unit Uncle Owen bought from the Jawas today was carrying a message, but he refused to play it all back for me. Said he would only give it to Dad."

"Artoo Detoo," Padme smiled to herself. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Luke frowned. "He and this other one, a protocol droid are outside in my speeder."

Padme nodded, unsurprised, and reached across the table to give Isaly's hand a reassuring squeeze before she got up. "He'll play it back for me. We're old friends."

Luke led the way back outside, but when they reached the speeder, they found only Threepio, huddled in the back seat and trying to hide under a blanket. Padme took a moment to scan the already darkening horizon, needing no explanation.

"What are you doing hiding back there?" Luke asked.

"It wasn't my fault, sir. Please don't deactivate me. I told him not to go, but he's faulty, malfunctioning; kept babbling on about his mission," the droid pleaded.

"Oh, no!" Luke shifted Shmi in his arms and reached into the front seat to snatch a pair of electrobinoculars, but after a few moments of searching, he let them fall, his arm slapping against his side in defeat.

"What wrong, Uncle Luke?" Shmi asked.

"I took off his restraining bolt earlier," he explained. "He said if I did he might be able to play back the recording. How could I have been so stupid!"

"You not stupid!" she told him firmly.

Padme smiled softly at the interplay, watching Luke's expression brighten. He offered a grateful smile to his niece, then turned to look at his mother. "What do we do now?"

She frowned, giving her head a slow, reluctant shake. "There's nothing we can do tonight, except hope he makes it to Dad and Ani."

"All the way there! Mom, he'd never make it alone," Luke protested. "We have to go after him. He's carrying the only clue we have to what's happened to Leia."

"It's too dangerous with all the Sandpeople around," Padme forced herself to say. There was in fact nothing she would rather have done than climb back into that speeder herself and go off after the droid, but she also knew that it would be a foolish and probably futile risk. She raised her hand, gently but firmly squeezing her younger son's arm. "The Force brought Artoo this far with his message. We can trust it to bring him to Dad."

Luke stared hard at her for a long moment, but she looked back, calm and unflinching. Yes, her expression silently said, I know what I am asking you to do. She is your twin sister--and my daughter. She began to fear that the would refuse, but she kept firm control over her emotions, letting not a hint of them reach him through the Force. Finally, he lowered his head.

"Okay, Mom," he nodded.

"If I may say so, sir," Threepio spoke up, unwittingly relieving the tension. "That R2 unit has always been a problem. These astro-droids are getting quite out of hand. Even I can't understand their logic at times."

Padme smiled despite herself and reached into the speeder to rest her hand on the golden droid's shoulder. "Welcome home, Threepio."

He tilted his head to look at her in surprise. He had no recollection of her now, of course. His memory had been wiped after Mustafar. "I beg your pardon, madam, have we met before?"

"Once," she replied affectionately. "A very long time ago. You might even say it was another life."


	73. A Hope And A Future

"How's that?" Luke yelled as he leaned over the back of the speeder to reach into the motor compartment. In the pilot's seat, Threepio signaled an okay, and he turned back inside. He popped the canopy closed and then passed a hand lightly over his niece's hair. He'd been up since before dawn, and even his mother was still asleep as he walked into the kitchen. It hadn't surprised him when Shmi came racing out of her room and insisted upon going with him.

"We almost there?" she asked now.

"The house is out this way, yeah," he nodded. "I just don't see how that R2 unit could have come this far. We must have missed him. Uncle Owen isn't going to take this very well."

"Uncle Owen always mad," she remarked.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Luke sighed.

"Sir, would it help if you told him it was my fault?" offered Threepio.

"Sure. He needs you. He'd probably only deactivate you for a day or so," Luke mused dryly.

"Deactivate! Well, on the other hand if you hadn't removed his restraining bolt…" Threepio pointed out.

"Wait, there's something dead ahead on the scanner. It looks like our droid...hit the accelerator."

They found him a few minutes later, trundling across the dusty floor of a canyon, and Luke hurriedly grabbed his blaster rifle, slinging it over his shoulder as Threepio parked the speeder. "Stay here, Little One," he told his niece.

"Dangerous, Uncle," she warned.

"We'll be back in a second," Luke promised, smiling as he vaulted out of the craft.

He jogged toward Artoo, who had halted as soon as he recognized the speeder. Stopping in front of the droid, he demanded, "Hey, whoa, just where do you think you're going?"

The little droid whistles a feeble reply, as Threepio came around behind him, doing his best to look menacing. "Master Luke here is your rightful owner. He _told_ you that he would take you to his father. Why didn't you just listen to him? You're fortunate he doesn't blast you into a million pieces right here!"

"Well, come on, it's getting late," Luke said with a shake of his head. "We still have to get out to the house and talk to Dad and Ani."

"If you don't mind my saying so, sir, I think you should deactivate the little fugitive until we've gotten where we're going," suggested Threepio.

"No, he's not going to try anything…" Luke started to say, when Artoo suddenly jumped to life, rocking back and forth and issuing a torrent of frantic whistles and screams. "What's wrong with him now?"

"Oh my...sir, he says there are several creatures approaching from the southeast," explained Threepio.

Luke swung his rifle into position and scanned the area. "Sandpeople! Or worse! Come on, let's have a look. Come on. Little One, stay there!"

"No, Uncle Luke…!" Shmi called after him, but he didn't listen. She watched him and Threepio climb a rocky ridge and raised her hand to cover her face. Giving her head a slow shake, she murmured quietly, "I don't believe this."

Exasperation gave way to fear a few moments later when she spotted the Tusken Raider. Luke sensed the creature's presence in the Force before it attacked, and tried to scramble away, but it was no use. It reared up in front of him, and Shmi dove out of the speeder, scrambling as fast as her little legs could carry her into the shadows of a rocky alcove.

She huddled there for a few minutes, clinging to the rock wall and stifling frightened tears. As the Raiders approached, Artoo rolled in with her, using his metal body to shield the little girl from view. She clung to the droid, peering around him to watch as the Sandpeople marched past carrying her unconscious uncle.

"_G'apa,_" she sniffled, hiding her face against Artoo's head.

The droid tootled a quiet warning, and she nodded understanding. They watched in silence as the Tuskens tossed Luke carelessly to the ground and ransacked the speeder. The scavengers tossed parts and supplies in every direction, then suddenly stopped, their attention drawn by a faint, strange swishing which seemed familiar to them. To Shmi, the sound was not, but the presence it brought was unmistakable.

"G'apa," she said again.

The air around them went completely still. Then a great, howling moan resounded through the canyon, scattering the Sandpeople, who fled in terror. The swishing sound which had initially frightened them drew closer, and Artoo moved further back, trying to keep the little girl out of sight, until two cloaked figures appeared. One leaned over Luke while the second scanned the canyon walls.

"Daddy!" she cried, but Ani had already spotted the pair in the shadows.

Artoo chattered and whistled threateningly, and the Jedi threw back his hood, blinking in surprise. "Artoo?"

Shmi edged past the droid, springing off the rocks into his arms, and Ani caught her easily. He hugged her tightly, giving her hair a reassuring kiss. "It's all right now. Don't be afraid."

Watching the exchange, Artoo whistled a soft interrogative that sounded clearly like, "Ani…?"

"Yes, Artoo, it's me," the Jedi smiled. "This is my dad."

Obi Wan turned had turned to them by then. He paused to peer down at Shmi and stroke her hair, then looked at Artoo with a smile of his own. "Hello there, my little friend."

Artoo trundled over to Luke, whistling in concern, and Shmi gave a soft cry of alarm. "Uncle!"

Obi Wan smiled reassuringly and bent to press his hand to the unconscious young man's forehead. "Don't worry. He'll be all right."

Luke stirred, then squinted up at them in confusion. "What happened?"

"Rest easy, son, you've had a busy day. You're fortunate you're still in one piece," Obi Wan told him.

"Dad…? Ani…? Boy am I glad to see you guys!" Luke exclaimed.

"I'll bet you are, kid," Ani replied with a faint chuckle, helping his brother to his feet.

"The Jundland Wastes are not to be traveled lightly. What are the two of you doing wandering around out here?" Obi Wan asked.

"Oh, it's this little droid!" Luke cried as the reason they were out here came flooding back. "Dad, he's carrying a message from Leia. He ran away from me last night to come out here looking for you. There was just no stopping him. I've never seen such devotion in a droid before."

"You've never met Artoo Detoo before," Ani remarked, letting his fingers trail affectionately over Artoo's dome.

Suddenly, though, Obi Wan frowned and looked up at the overhanging cliffs. "I think we better get indoors. The Sandpeople are easily startled but they will soon be back and in greater numbers."

"Wait…" Shmi said as Artoo gave a pathetic little whistle.

Luke glanced around, suddenly remembering. "Threepio!"

-----

They found the protocol droid half buried in a sandpit. Ani, Obi Wan and Luke stood peering down at him while Artoo and Shmi watched from the pit's edge, Artoo whistling worriedly. Threepio was badly dented and mangled. One of his arms had entirely broken off, and he was unresponsive as Luke grabbed and shook him. He reached for the activation switch hidden on the droid's back and flipped it several times. Finally, the golden eyes blinked and the droid came back to life.

"Where am I? I must have taken a bad step."

"Can you stand? We've got to get out of here before the Sandpeople return," Luke said.

"I don't think I can make it. You go on, Master Luke. There's no sense in you risking yourself on my account. I'm done for," decided Threepio.

Artoo beeped a protest, and Ani laughed. "Threepio, you haven't changed a bit."

The droid's head swiveled toward the Jedi and he gave a started, "Oh! I beg your pardon, sir. I don't believe we've met. I am See-Threepio…"

"Human-cyborg relations, I know. Come on, let's get you out of there, old friend," Ani smiled, them moved to help his brother set the droid on his feet.

Suddenly, though, he and Obi Wan exchanged a startled look and glanced suspiciously around. "Quickly, boys, they're on the move," their father said.

Both nodded and Luke ushered the droid out of the pit while Ani turned hurried to pick up his daughter. The Kenobis and their droids all crammed back into Luke's speeder, where Shmi was quite happy to ride back to the house on her grandfather's lap. The adults, however, didn't relax until everyone was safely inside.

Once there, Luke busied himself with fixing Threepio's arm, relating Owen's purchase of the droids and his discovery of the message as he worked. Ani and Obi Wan both sat a low table amid the accumulation of desert junk and makeshift training equipment, listening with a concentration that went beyond their senses. Shmi, as tired as she was, simply rested in her grandfather's arms, but though her eyes were closed, Ani knew that she wasn't asleep.

"You know, kid, I hope you didn't let her drive the speeder," he remarked with a faint, sad smile as he watched his daughter.

"What?" Obi Wan raised an eyebrow.

"Never mind, it's not important now," he shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. "Come here, Artoo, let's see this message."

"He's not gonna show it to you, Ani. I couldn't access it once he shut…" Luke trailed off as Leia's image appeared again.

"He seems to have found it," Obi Wan remarked.

"Aunt Leia?" Shmi raised her head, blinking fully awake.

"Mm," her grandfather nodded. "Let's listen. Play it back, please, Artoo."

_"General Kenobi, years ago you served my father in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my father's request to you in person, but my ship has fallen under attack and I'm afraid my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have placed information vital to the survival of the Rebellion into the memory systems of this R2 unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to him on Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope."_

Obi Wan sat back in his chair, visibly stunned. Ani closed his eyes, already knowing beyond doubt who it was who had attacked his sister's ship, thwarting her mission. Luke stared at the still figure of his twin until the image disappeared again, then he jumped to his feet.

"Attacked by who?" he demanded.

"I think I know," Ani said with a questioning look at their father.

Obi Wan opened his eyes and slowly met Ani's gaze. He didn't voice agreement, but he didn't have to. Raising a hand to touch his brow, he said, "Anakin, get your uncle's lightsaber."

"Yes, Master," the Knight replied simply.

"What do you mean you know?" Luke demanded as his brother carefully moved a shelf on the back wall and remove a battered durasteel box from within the hidden compartment in the wall.

Ani didn't answer. His touch was sure as he keyed the familiar combination, though he felt a tightness in his chest at the knowledge that this would be the last time he did this. The cover slid back and he reached inside, still not answering the question. He wrapped his fingers around the cool metal hilt and lifted it out, then calmly and without ceremony entrusted Anakin Skywalker's legacy to Luke.


	74. Jedi Legacy

Obi Wan watched as Luke tested the blade, smiling a little. In many ways, his youngest son was similar to Anakin Skywalker. Luke was much more like him, in fact, than his namesake was, but Obi Wan had always believed that Luke was like Anakin in all the best ways. He had done his best to correct the mistakes he had made with the volatile and adventurous Skywalker this time. Still, he honestly wasn't sure that Luke was ready for what lay ahead of them. He had trained as a Jedi beside his brother Ani for his entire life, but he was still often distracted, often impatient. He lacked a Jedi's reserve. It seemed, though, that the will of the Force was at work here. Ani was too close to Vader, in his opinion, and he himself was too old to take on this task alone. Eighteen years on Tatooine had taken their toll on the Jedi Master.

"You'll both have to come with me to Alderaan," he said.

"Alderaan!" Luke exclaimed, quickly thumbing off the blade in his hand. He leveled a disbelieving stare on his father. "Dad, we can't go to Alderaan! We have to help Leia!"

"Luke, we don't even know where she is," Ani pointed out.

"But you just said--"

"I said I know who boarded the ship, not where he's holding her now," replied Ani.

"Then we have to find out!" cried Luke.

"Son, your sister risked everything to deliver Artoo to us. You heard what she said. The future of the Rebel Alliance is at stake," Obi Wan said calmly.

"And that's more important than Leia's _life?_" Luke demanded.

"How do you think Leia would answer that question?" asked his father.

Luke opened his mouth to reply and quickly shut it again, giving his head a hard shake in rejection of whatever he would have said. When he spoke, his tone was quiet and plaintive. "But she's my sister."

"I know," Obi Wan assured him. "And once Artoo is safely with Uncle Bail on Alderaan, I promise you, we will find her."

"She could be dead by then," Luke ran a hand through his hair.

"Then she will have died in the service of those she loved," he said, giving no outward hint of the pain the sentence inflicted. Each word tore its way out of his chest as if it were a piece of his own flesh, and as they tumbled out of his mouth, he became convinced that the floor around him should have been littered with the raw and bleeding remnants of what had been his heart.

Shmi craned her neck to peer at him, and he could feel her worry--more for Luke and himself than for Leia, whom she only knew by association. He let his fingers brush her cheek but kept his eyes steadily on Luke. The boy bowed his head.

"Yes, sir."

"All right," Obi Wan nodded. "Then we'd best get Little One home and say our goodbyes."

"I go with you!" Shmi protested.

"No, honey, not this time," Ani shook his head.

"Why?" she demanded.

Ani bit his lip, seeming to weigh his words for a long time. Then he gently plucked her from Obi Wan's lap and carried her over to where Luke was standing. "Because," he replied as he set her on the ground between them. "Uncle Luke and I are counting on you to stay here and look after your mother and Grandma."

"That's right," nodded Luke, taking his cue from his older brother. He knelt to be on eye level with. "Someone has to be here to make sure they don't worry while we're gone."

"But…" she frowned.

"Don't worry," Ani said. "I'll take care of Uncle Luke."

"And I'll keep your Dad out of trouble," Luke promised.

Obi Wan closed his eyes, drawing in a long breath. Tears welled up behind his closed eyelids, but he let them pass. When he looked again, his granddaughter was peering questioningly over at him. He smiled.

"The Force will take care of Grandpa, Little One."

-----

The X-34 jerked to a halt in front of the smoldering remains of the Jawas' Sandcrawler. Ani's speeder pulled up on the far side of Luke's vehicle and the Jedi climbed out, cautiously approaching the ruins. They walked among the rubble and scattered bodies for a few minutes, then Ani and his father both crouched in the sand to examine the tracks, Shmi standing beside them with her hand lightly on her father's shoulder.

"It looks like Sandpeople did this, all right. Look, here are Gaffi sticks, Bantha tracks. It's just...I've never heard of them hitting anything this big before," Luke frowned.

"It doesn't feel right," agreed Ani.

"It wasn't Sandpeople," Obi Wan told them. "But we are meant to think it was."

"These tracks are side by side," Ani observed. "Sandpeople always ride single file to hide there numbers."

"These are the same Jawas that sold us Artoo and Threepio," Luke said worriedly.

"And these blast points. Too accurate for Sandpeople. Only Imperial stormtroopers are so precise," their father continued.

Luke glanced back toward the vehicles, where Artoo and Threepio were examining Jawa bodies, and felt the answer to his unspoken question. "If they tracked the droids this far, then they may have learned who they sold them to, and that would lead them…"

"Home!" Ani finished the thought, springing erect as he spoke the word.

"Wait, boys! It's too dangerous. We need--"

The two brothers were already racing toward the speeders again.

-----

"…a plan," their father finished with a rueful sigh as he watched them leap smoothly into the X-34 and disappear, leaving the droids behind them in a cloud of desert-baked dust and sand. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and reached down with his other hand to grasp his granddaughter's smaller one.

"G'apa have plan?" she asked.

"Not yet," he shook his head as he started toward Ani's speeder. "But we'll make one up as we go along. I used to do that quite a lot with another young Jedi named Anakin. Your father and Uncle Luke will head to Uncle Owen's place. We'll go home first, make sure your mother and Grandma are all right."

Shmi nodded solemnly and the pair climbed back into the speeder. The droids clambered in after them, and the stone and sand of the desert became a yellow-brown blur as they raced across the harsh landscape toward home. Though he maintained the calm of a Jedi Master, Obi Wan was well aware of the danger his family might well be in. That, in fact, was what enabled him to _remain_ in control of his emotions even though there was nothing he would have rather done than rush headlong toward the farm exactly as his sons had done. He no longer had the youth and stamina to make up for such rash disregard for the Jedi principles of combat. He did, however, have the advantage of experience, and he knew that if Imperial troops had reached the farm before he did, there would be nothing gained by getting himself killed.

Fortunately, though, there was no sign of an Imperial presence on the south range. Padme burst out of the house as they came to a halt in front of it, and he scrambled out of the speeder with Force-aided speed and agility to meet her at the center of the courtyard. She flung her arms around his neck, pressing herself tightly against him, and he could feel her shaking.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "Something's happened. What is it, Obi Wan? I felt…"

He brought his hands gently to her shoulders, steadying her as he began to explain. Her face transformed with horror as she understood exactly who had their daughter and what that would mean. He could feel that all she wanted to collapse against him; all he wanted in turn was to cling to her, but they only stood there, still and without tears as a wordless promise passed between them. Whatever happened, whatever it took, Leia would come home again.

He moved on to relate their discovery of the Sandcrawler, and now tears did slip down her cheeks. This was what she had felt in the Force, although she hadn't realized it at the time. His own vision swam, and he allowed a moment of grief for the friends they understood were lost--the friends who had sheltered them though they could easily have turned the Kenobis aside. Beru and Owen had been under no obligation to them, yet they had freely opened their home to their children; made Luke, Leia and Anakin a part of this planet in a way that their parents could not have done; loved them and provided for them as if the Kenobi children had been their own. The senselessness of their deaths galled Obi Wan, but in the end he released his outrage and horror, and more slowly he felt his wife do the same.

By then, Isaly had made it up out of the house. He had told Shmi to wait in the speeder, but she ran out to her mother and clung to her. Obi Wan and Padme walked over to them, and he quickly repeated the explanation he had given his wife. Isaly looked stricken, but she was a child of Tatooine, and her mind turned automatically to harsh necessity. She had children to protect.

"We can't stay here," she said softly.

"They didn't know the house was here, but it won't take them long to find out. Too many people know the kids," Padme agreed.

"It's too close to Isaly's time," Obi Wan shook his head. "Vader may well know by now what Leia's mission was. If so, he'll be looking for me. The twins could come at any time and he'd have all of us."

"We can go to Watto's. We'll be safe there," Isaly suggested.

"There will be search patrols," Obi Wan warned, though he knew already that it was the only option.

"No one is looking for a couple of women and a little girl," Padme reminded him.

"Not yet. That may change very soon," her husband said.

"If it does, I'll get us through," Padme replied.

"All right," Obi Wan nodded, laying a hand against her cheek. "Come on, then, we'd all better get over to Owen and Ber--to check on the boys."

-----

"Uncle Owen! Aunt Beru!" Luke shouted as he and Ani stared at the smoking holes which had once been their aunt and uncle's home.

"Uncle Owen!" Ani tried again, his voice breaking on the desperate cry. Even as the words passed his lips, he understood that they were futile.

Both young men staggered through the ruins in a daze. Debris was scattered in every direction, and through his tears, Ani watched as Luke continued to search frantically for Owen and Beru. He couldn't speak, couldn't form the words to tell his brother what he would find. Finally, he stumbled upon their charred remains and fell to his knees.

Ani looked on, feeling his brother's fear give way to grief, and then finally to hate. Luke raised his head, his face a mask of rage as he met his older brother's gaze. Gently, Ani sank down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Luke--"

"_Don't_ tell me to let go! I'm tired of hearing it. Light Side, Dark Side--it doesn't matter, Ani! This is what matters!" Luke cried in despair.

"This is the Dark Side!" Ani told him, waving his arm to indicate the ruined homestead. "Right here, Luke. Look at it. Look at Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. The Dark Side did this. This is what you will become. The Dark Side destroys. That's all it ever does."

Luke hung his head again and didn't reply. Rage warred with their father's Jedi teachings within him, and rage was winning. It might have been different if Luke had been forced to accept the reality of their lives and pay closer attention to what their father had tried to impart, but Ani had always shielded him. He had made excuses, covered for Luke as much with Obi Wan as with Owen, pleaded with their father to let the boy choose his own path. Obi Wan was inclined to be patient with both of them; perhaps there were some lessons the Jedi Master simply recognized that he could not teach. Ani was learning one of them now. He realized that he had tried to protect his brother too much, and in doing so he had only made it more difficult for Luke to become what he was meant to be. He tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder. It didn't matter to him that Luke's anger was directed elsewhere. It didn't even matter that the target was Palpatine, because in the end he knew that Luke would be its victim.

"Listen to me. I know how you feel. This--this isn't the first time that the Emperor has taken someone I love. He deserves your anger, Luke, but that anger will only become a weapon for him to use against you. Don't give him that," Ani said softly.

Slowly, very slowly, Luke nodded. Ani let out a quiet breath of relief. The second speeder roared up to the compound, and together the two brothers went to meet their father.


	75. Farewells

There was no time for a proper funeral. After they built a bonfire to burn the bodies of Owen and Beru Lars, the Kenobis and their droids had to return to the Jawa's Sandcrawler and do the same for them. That much carrion left to bloat and rot in the desert would cause disease. Once the pyre was lit, they stood wearily around it, watching thin wisps of brown smoke curl their way into the bleached white desert sky. Luke stood disconsolate with his head on Padme's shoulder, his thoughts still lingering on the farm. She kept her arm comfortingly around him, but she didn't speak or move, certain that as soon as she did it would signal the moment that she had been dreading for the last eighteen years.

Finally, Obi Wan stepped away from Ani and walked over to them. He squeezed their son's arm sympathetically and assured him, "There's nothing you could have done, Luke, had you been there. You'd have been killed, too, and the droids would be in the hands of the Empire."

"Not if I had listened to you!' Luke shook his head. "If I'd paid attention, been more mindful of your training. Then I could have helped them!"

"A Jedi isn't invincible. In any case, none of that matters now, son. It can't be changed. We must focus on the present and the task at hand," Obi Wan said.

"I'll come with you and Ani to Alderaan, Dad. No more arguments, no more slacking off, I promise. All I want is to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi Knight," Luke paused briefly, turning to look at his mother, who smiled proudly as he added. "Like my father."

Obi Wan inclined his head, and Padme gave the boy a warm squeeze before she slipped away to let them talk. Ani was standing with his wife and daughter, but he turned as Padme started toward them, and they met in the center of the group. Tearfully, Padme embraced her older son, and he hugged her back fiercely. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes, more grateful than ever before that the Force had given her this young man. Her gratitude was not simply because he understood her fear and dread in a way that even Obi Wan couldn't, although there was comfort in that. More than that, she was glad that he had lived, that he had been her light through the dark and lonely years of the Clone Wars, that she had been allowed to see him grow into a man and watch him with his own family.

"It'll be all right," he promised, but she could feel the hesitation and uncertainty that he didn't want to show. None of their dreams had shown them a moment like this, none had revealed the possibility that Padme would not be there when the confrontation came. For years, it had been her voice crying out when Vader's blade sliced toward her husband, whether Ani was there or not. Both of them knew that the dreams never perfectly mirrored reality; the future was a web of possibilities. It was shaped by the decisions made in the present, which was why the Jedi continually strove to keep their minds in the here and now, even while being aware that every action would have consequences. This, however, was a very big change, and the fact that it had been entirely unforeseen only reminded both of them what a great danger Darth Vader was. From the beginning, everything around him had been clouded. He was a storm in the Force, and his very presence made it impossible for the Jedi to see clearly. Ani might say that it would be all right, but there were no guarantees.

"Stay with him, Ani," she whispered. "Whatever happens, stay with Dad."

"I will. I promise, Mom," he assured her.

She squeezed him tighter for a long moment, and then stepped back. Her eyes were dry, and she smiled as she touched his face. "Go say goodbye to your family."

Ani smiled in return. "I love you, Mother."

"I love you, too, Anakin," she nodded.

He went back to Isaly and knelt to hug their daughter while Padme returned to Obi Wan and Luke. Their younger son hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll bring Leia home…somehow. You'll see."

"I know you will," she said as her hands smoothed over his back.

He started to step back, conscious that his parents needed a moment alone, but Padme tightened her arms around him, some impulse compelling her to whisper, "Remember Tatooine."

"Huh?" he frowned in confusion.

"For your sister. Tell her, _Remember Tatooine_," she explained.

He gave a nod of understanding. Then he looked from one parent to the other and tugged on his ear. "I'm…uh…gonna go say goodbye to Shmi," he said.

Obi Wan and Padme watched fondly as he walked over to Ani and Isaly. He bent to kiss his sister-in-law's cheek, then took their daughter by the hand and led her over toward the speeders in order to give both couples privacy. Padme's hand slipped into her husband's, and they stood silently watching their sons. After a minute or two, Luke knelt to talk with Shmi, and his parents turned to one other.

"I don't know what to say," Padme confessed, her vision wavering as tears formed in her eyes again.

"Well," Obi Wan smiled, "I would ask you to dance with me, but I'm afraid we're a little short on time."

Her laughter came out harsh and clipped around the tightness in her throat. "It's my turn to ask anyway," she said.

He nodded and took a long breath, then he reached down to unclip the comlink from his belt. It had been useless for eighteen years, but he'd never been able to take it off. Now he stared down at it through his own tears, his throat working convulsively. Slowly, he pressed it into her palm and folded her fingers around it, then raised her closed hand to his lips.

_Come back to me. I still need you,_ she thought, but she knew that they were words she could never speak. For her to bind him with that promise would have been worse than death for him. He was a Jedi, and she was his wife. She couldn't ask him to less than his duty, to be less than he was.

He lifted her hand from his lips and pressed it to his cheek. "I have loved you for my entire life. That will never change."

"And I will love you. Always, " she whispered in reply.

-----

"Solo," Han said as a ragged-looking desert rat of a man and his two farmboy kids slid into the booth with him. "Han Solo, captain of the _Millenium Falcon._ Chewie here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."

"Yes, indeed. If it's a fast ship," said the old man in a clipped, polite Coruscanti accent. That was interesting. Han didn't run into many Coruscanti on a fringe world like Tatooine. Given the fact that he'd also just seen this old guy pull out some relic lightsaber and start hacking limbs off people at the bar…ah, it didn't matter. If they had the money, he had the ship. He put aside his curiosity for the moment, and put on his best stunned face. "Fast ship? You've never heard of the _Millennium Falcon?"_

"Should I have?" the old man asked blandly.

"It's the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs!" he exclaimed.

The older kid, a freckle-faced, red-haired little ninny who looked to be in his early twenties, rolled his eyes. The old man smiled faintly in his direction, and Han glared at the kid.

"What? You don't believe me? Maybe you'd like to find another ship?" he challenged.

"A parsec is a distance measurement," the kid replied calmly.

Beside them, Chewie laughed, and Han shot a glare at his first mate. Then he leveled a nastier look on the kid. "So?"

"So, unless you can fold space, you can't change the _length_ of the Kessel Run," he replied in the same irritatingly calm tone.

"Let it go, Ani," the old man held up a hand.

"He's trying to con us, Dad," the younger one whined.

"_Annie?_" Han couldn't resist. "Your name is _Annie?_"

"My brother's name is _Anakin,_" snapped the other one, sounding even more whiny than before.

"Ooooh. My apologies, _Anakin,_" Han nodded mockingly. "And what's baby brother's name?"

"I just call him kid," Ani shrugged.

"Very funny, Ani!" cried the younger one. "My name is Luke!"

"And now that you've met my sons, perhaps we could return to discussing the ship," the old man said dryly.

If Han hadn't been in such a bad mood, he would have admitted that he was starting to like these people. A little. Well. The older two at least. Instead, he said, "I've outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk-cruisers, mind you. I'm talking about the big Corellian ships now. She's fast enough for you, old man. What's the cargo?"

"Only passengers. Myself, the boys, two droids, and _no questions asked_," replied the old man pointedly.

_Really…?_ Han thought, hiding a smirk. "What is it? Some kind of local trouble?"

"Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements," said the old man.

"Well, that's the trick, ain't it?" Han gave him a calculating look. "And that's gonna cost you something extra. Ten thousand, in advance."

"Ten thousand? We could almost buy our own ship for that," complained Luke.

"But who's going to fly it, _kid_ ! You?" scoffed Han.

"You bet he could," Ani said quietly. Han was almost willing to believe that until the kid started patting himself on the back and whining again.

"I'm not such a bad pilot myself!" Luke declared. "We don't have to sit here and listen…"

"We haven't that much with us. But we could pay you two thousand now, plus _fifteen_ when we reach Alderaan," interrupted the old man.

"Seventeen, huh…?" Han sat back in his seat, pondering the offer. That would give him enough to pay off Jabba--and whatever trouble these weirdos were in couldn't be _that_ bad. "Okay. You guys got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking bay Ninety-four."

"Ninety-four," confirmed the old man.

Over his new passengers' shoulders, Han spotted four stormtroopers nosing around the bar, looking at the dead bodies and asking questions. "Looks like someone's starting to take an interest in your handiwork," he remarked casually.

The three of them turned to look, then abruptly disappeared without a word. Han pushed out his bottom lip and looked at Chewie. "Hey, you know…they didn't even say goodbye. A guy could think they didn't like him."

The Wookiee gave a booming laugh.

"Anyway. Seventeen thousand! Those guys must really be desperate. This could really save my neck. Get back to the ship and get her ready," Han told his partner.

Chewie lumbered off, and Han sat for a few minutes, savoring his drink. He was about to leave when a slimy green-faced bounty hunter with a short trunk-nose, poked a blaster into his side. He held beck a sigh.

"Going somewhere, Solo…?" demanded Greedo.

"Yes, Greedo. As a matter of fact, I was just going to see your boss. Tell Jabba that I've got his money," Han replied.

"It's too late. You should have paid him when you had the chance. Jabba's put a price on your head, so large that every bounty hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you. I'm lucky I found you first," Greedo said.

"Yeah but this time I _got the money_," Han repeated.

"If you give it to me, I might forget I found you," offered Greedo.

"I don't have it with me. Tell Jabba…"

"Jabba's through with you. He has no time for smugglers who drop their shipments at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser," Greedo cut him off.

"Even I get boarded sometimes. Do you think I had a choice?" Han asked, slowly easing his own blaster out of the holster on his hip. He held it there, trained on Greedo and waiting.

"You can tell that to Jabba. He may only take your ship," Greedo said.

"Over my dead body," Han said flatly.

"That's the idea. I've been looking forward to killing you for a long time," said Greedo.

"Yes, I'll bet you have," Han said in the same casual tone. Greedo never saw what hit him. Han pulled his smoking blaster out from under the table and got up, flipping a few coins to the bartender on his way out. "Sorry about the mess."


	76. Appearances

Ani and Luke's dodge-bolt game is based on events in _I, Jedi_ by Michael Stackpole. It's my fave SW book and I simply couldn't resist.

------

Chewbacca lead the group into the giant dirt pit that was Docking Bay Ninety-four. Resting in the middle of the huge hole was a large, round, beat-up, pieced-together hunk of junk that could only loosely be called a starship. To Obi Wan, it looked vaguely like an old YT-1300 light freighter. To Luke, it looked like something else.

"What a piece of junk!" he exclaimed.

The tall figure of Han Solo came clanging down the boarding ramp. "She'll make point-five past lightspeed. She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. I've added some special modifications myself."

Luke scratched his head, still unsure. His older brother smiled. "Your eyes can deceive you, kid. Don't trust them."

"Why does everybody have to call me _kid?_" Luke sighed.

Ani shrugged, his smile widening as he and Obi Wan exchanged amused glances. Chewbacca howled, urging everyone on board, and Han prompted, "We're a little rushed, so if you'll hurry aboard we'll get out of here."

Obi Wan certainly had no objection. The group rushed up the ramp with Threepio nodding a polite greeting to the grinning pilot as he passed. The interior of the _Millenium Falcon _was as disastrous looking as its hull, even the main corridor littered with various gear and mechanical parts. Ani was grinning almost as widely as the ship's captain, and as Chewbacca hurried into the cockpit, the Knight gave his father a knowing look.

"Don't say _anything_, Anakin," the Master pointed a finger at him.

"What…?" asked Luke.

"You'll see," Ani laughed.

They made their way into the lounge inside the ship's main hold, and Obi Wan could already hear the unmistakable ring of blaster shots hitting the hull outside. Han ran in after them, yelling, "Chewie get us outta here!"

"Oh," Threepio exclaimed as the Kenobis and the droids strapped in for take-off, "I'd forgotten how much I hate space travel!"

"That makes two of us," Obi Wan muttered.

"See?" Ani said, and both brothers grinned.

The ship blasted its way out of the docking bay and rocketed through the atmosphere of Tatooine into space. Obi Wan wasted no time with the boys' amusement at his expense, nor with his own distaste for interstellar motion. He simply got up and walked into the cockpit, where he knew that Solo and his co-pilot would not yet be finished earning their living for the day.

"It looks like an Imperial cruiser. Our passengers must be hotter than I thought. Try and hold them off. Angle the deflector shield while I make the calculations for the jump to light speed," he heard the captain saying.

Chewbacca groaned agreement, and Obi Wan watched as Han frantically input his calculations into the navcomputer. The boys squeezed their way into the cramped cockpit, Luke edging his way up beside his father while Ani hung back, peering over their shoulders. From Luke, Obi Wan could sense both fear and excitement--from Ani only keen interest and the implacable calm of a Jedi Knight.

"Stay sharp!" Han told Chewie. "There are two more coming in; they're going to try to cut us off."

"Why don't you outrun them? I thought you said this thing was fast," Luke said sharply.

"Watch your mouth, kid, or you're going to find yourself floating home. We'll be safe enough once we make the jump to hyperspace. Besides, I know a few maneuvers. We'll lose them!" Han promised.

The ship rocked violently as they began to take fire from the pursuing Imperial battleships. Obi Wan felt a steadying hand on his shoulder and smiled briefly at his oldest son before asking the smuggler, "How long before you can make the jump to lightspeed?"

"It'll take a few moments to get the coordinates from the navcomputer," Han replied.

"Are you kidding!" Luke cried. "At the rate they're gaining…"

"Luke, let the man do his job," Ani said quietly, but Han was already annoyed.

"Traveling through hyperspace ain't like dusting crops, boy!" he told Luke. "Without precise calculations we could fly right through a star or bounce too close to a supernova, and that'd end your trip real quick, wouldn't it?"

The ship was now being hit with a continuous barrage of canon fire from the star destroyers. The control panel in front of Han and Chewie began to light up even as the pair worked frantically to out-maneuver the larger ships. Luke pointed at it.

"What's that flashing?"

"We're about to lose our deflector shields. Go strap yourselves in. I'm going to make the jump to lightspeed," Han said briskly.

-----

Vader stood staring out the bay window in the station's otherwise empty command room. Governor Tarkin and Admiral Motti were both in the control center, preparing for the station's upcoming test, but the Dark Lord was not prepared to join them yet. Soon they would reach the Alderaan system, and Princess Leia still disturbed him. Her resistance to his mind probe was still far greater than he expected. That in itself, while inconvenient, was hardly disturbing. What made him so uneasy were her screams.

He had tortured many over the course of the last eighteen years. A victim's screams had never had the power to haunt him before, and yet Leia's did. They burned through him, igniting memories he had long since divorced--or thought he had until he had set foot aboard the _Tantive IV._ He was still no closer to discovering her tie to Kenobi than he had been before, but he knew it was there. She _was_ hiding something.

Little Ani had never screamed that way. Yet in the echo of Leia's cries, Vader heard his voice. Leia had never held anything but hatred for him, yet whether her eyes reflected terror or rage now, he saw only the memory of Ani's tearful anguish.

_You can still take me home!_

After everything the boy had seen, he had still been willing to believe in Anakin Skywalker. He had still been willing to _love_ Anakin Skywalker. To forgive…

_Your thoughts betray you, Lord Vader,_ spoke the voice of Palpatine through the Force. _The boy is dead._

The illusion of Palpatine's twisted features formed on the transparisteel in front of him, but Vader stared through it at the bright tunnel of elongated starlight that streamed past the windows as the Death Star shot through hyperspace. "And the Princess of Alderaan will soon join him. But first she will tell me what I wish to know."

He whirled away from the window and strode out of the room, black cloak billowing behind him. Stormtroopers and Imperial troops gave the Sith Lord a wide berth as he stalked the battlestation's gleaming metal corridors. He made his way swiftly back to the Detention Center and into Princess Leia's cell.

She was lying on the cot against the wall, still recovering from their last encounter, but she pulled herself up as soon as the door opened. He sensed her fear even as she gripped the edge of the cot in her hands and pushed herself to her feet.

"Lord Vader, back so soon?" she asked, her expression hard and determined.

Vader waited until the door slid to a close behind him and stepped menacingly toward her. "We have matters to discuss, Your Highness."

"Yes, we've been through this," she replied with a disinterested sigh. "I told you, I don't know anything about a Rebel Base."

"That is _not_ what we have to discuss this time," Vader replied coldly.

"Oh?" the princess arched her eyebrow. "What then? Some other delusion of yours?"

Vader moved still closer, and her fear began to batter him. He could take no pleasure in it, but he would use it anyway. He finally halted directly in her face and did not speak, allowing the room to be filled only with the sound of her breathing and Leia's terror. Despite her feelings, she returned his gaze with the same intense determination.

"There is _something_ about you, Princess. It has puzzled me for a long time, but I believe I am finally beginning to understand," the Dark Lord said.

"That you're insane?" Leia responded.

"I sense something," said Vader. "A presence I have not felt in a very long time."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Leia said hotly.

He sensed outrage--fear--indignation, but no deception. Yet he knew that the connection was there. "I have had more than enough of your lies, Princess. Tell me now--_where is he?"_

-----

Luke and Ani had been training with remotes for as long as the younger brother could remember. These days, they also often sparred together, but their father felt the remotes served a greater purpose than simply honing their danger sense or providing a safe means of drilling them in blaster deflection. He had turned the old Jedi Order game of dodge-bolt into an exercise in teamwork.

The small, round seeker remotes were common enough throughout the galaxy that the Kenobis had no trouble acquiring a store of them. They were often used for blaster target practice, since a blaster on stun could knock one of the little demons out without causing damage. Everyone used them, from mercenaries like Han to bored kids on Tatooine, but no one employed them quite the way the young Jedi did now.

Eight of them currently ranged around Luke and Ani, who stood at back to back in the Falcon's main hold. They were just outside of the lounge area in the cargo hold itself, where they would have more room and not risk hitting Chewie or the droids with a stray energy bolt. Their father perched watching on a stool nearby, keeping a mental tally of each hit and block. The object of this game was not for one brother to outscore the other. While each of them were specifically assigned to defend against a particular four of the remotes, the machines targeted both boys indiscriminately. For each stingshot blocked by one brother, they were awarded a point. For each hit that a brother took from one of his own four targets, they lost one point. For each hit that one of their remotes scored on a partner, they lost two points.

Luke rarely had to worry about being struck by one of Ani's remotes. His brother moved with liquid grace and the Force-honed reflexes of a Jedi Knight. He always seemed to know where the things were, even when all eight of them were zipping around faster than Luke's eye could follow, and when he got hit it was usually because he'd taken a shot meant for his brother. What Luke did worry about were the consequences of accidentally letting one of his remotes zap Ani.

That concern usually earned him an admonishment from Obi Wan about focusing on the present, which would in turn irritate him and result in a second shot getting through his defenses. He could then only hope that the second shot would strike him and not Anakin. His brother kept a perfect account of every hit he took in a given session of this particular game, and no amount of lecturing from Luke on the principles of letting go of offense and not holding grudges could sway him when he decided that the time had come for some devious manner of fraternal revenge.

The eight little menaces quickened their pace, weaving an intricate, bobbing dance which allowed them to briefly elipse one another. This forced the young Jedi to maintain tighter concentration, since they had to be able to anticipate shots from the ones that their eyes couldn't see.

Suddenly, Luke felt a shot coming in from directly above them. His instinct was to raise the blade and stab it back behind his head to block, but his brother was standing there. Instead, he leapt as high as he could and thrust the lightsaber above his head. The bright blue blade took the red dart of energy on its point and was momentarily infused with a purplish-red sheen. He laughed triumphantly, then saw Anakin's green blade whirl through a complete circle, passing beneath him to pick off three shots that were vectoring in at odd angles and would have stung him on the way down.

He landed in a crouch and straightened to pivot right, barely in time to block another shot. Ani's blade came around to strike his, and the two weapons crackled and flared. An instant later, he threw himself backward and rolled off to the right, using the strength of his brother's cut to provide the momentum for his roll. He came up and around, holding the lightsaber one-handed to flick off two more shots, but the blade wavered, allowing the second one to strike his leg.

As he staggered back, he saw Ani spin away from three more darts, one of which struck his right shoulder. Releasing with that hand, he swept the blade out parallel to the ground on his left side, picking off a low shot that was coming in toward his knee. Smoothly snapping the blade vertical again, he dragged it in a perfectly controlled zig-zag from left to right, picking off two more shots.

"Now you're just showing off," Luke laughed.

"Helps that I'm ambidextrous. Watch--"

"Ow!" Luke jumped as a stingshot hit him directly on the seat of the pants…

-----

Watto was lounging outside the shop, content enough to let Padme and Isaly have the run of things inside. The two women had arrived in the dead of night yesterday, woken him up out of a sound sleep to be attacked and hugged by little Shmi, and promptly informed him that they were moving in until Obi Wan and the boys returned from…someplace. He couldn't quite remember. It was something about droids, and he distinctly recalled mention of the Empire, at which point he simply stopped listening.

He heard Shmi toddle out to him, but he didn't open his eyes, hoping that she might assume he was asleep. She didn't, of course. Her little finger jabbed him in the side, and he cracked open his eyes to see her frowning down at him.

"You asleep, Watto?" she asked.

"Yeah," he drawled.

"No you not," she shook her head.

"Yes, I am. See?" he closed his eyes again and made a loud snoring noise.

"Funny Watto," Shmi declared with a laugh.

"Great," the Toydarian sighed.

Shmi plopped down beside him, chattering happily for a few minutes about nothing in particular. Watto settled back to the business of napping, and was just drifting off when he noticed a shift in the three-year old's tone. Her voice became clearly worried.

"Watto? Who they…?"

His eyes sprang open, and he spotted two uniformed men walking up the street. Behind them came a pair of cloaked figures, one quite tall while the other was shorter and slimmer. Both moved with an air of casual authority, and they seemed to know exactly where they were going. He didn't see stormtroopers, but that didn't mean much.

"Go inside," Watto told the girl. "Tell your mother we're about to have company."

She nodded and slipped back through the door. Watto hoped they hadn't been close enough to see her, but there was nothing to do except wait and see. He closed his eyes again, not opening them even after the four pairs of boots crunched to a halt. A shadow fell over him.

"We're looking for Lila Kenobi," a deep male voice said.

Watto slowly opened his eyes, feigning complete disinterest. Through the shadow of the man's hood, he could see only gleaming dark eyes and the silhouette of a pointed beard. "Who?"

"Perhaps you know her better as Senator Padme Amidala Kenobi," the man said meaningfully.


	77. Deceptions

The door slid open before Leia could even utter a reply, and Vader whirled to see two stormtroopers. "Lord Vader, we're coming out of hyperspace," one reported.

"Very well," nodded the Dark Lord. "It seems we shall have to finish this at a later time, Your Highness."

He stood aside to allow the troopers to bind her hands again, then followed them out of the cell. She said nothing during the march to the Control Room, though she kept her head held high and shoulders squared, the picture of regal poise. Inside she confronted Governor Tarkin with the same firey determination with which she continued to face down Vader himself.

"Governor Tarkin, I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I recognized your foul stench when I was brought on board," she told him in disgust.

"Charming to the last. You don't know how hard I found it signing the order to terminate your life!" Tarkin spat.

"I'm surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility yourself!" Leia declared.

"Princess Leia, before your execution I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station operational. No star system will dare oppose the Emperor now," replied Tarkin poisonously.

"The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers," Leia told the governor.

"Not after we demonstrate the power of this station. In a way, you have determined the choice of the planet that'll be destroyed first. Since you are reluctant to provide us with the location of the  
Rebel base, I have chosen to test this station's destructive power...on your home planet of Alderaan," Tarkin smiled cruelly.

"No! Alderaan is peaceful. We have no weapons. You can't possibly--"

"You would prefer another target? A military target? Then name the system!" insisted Tarkin.

Vader knew that she was lying before the word _Dantooine_ had even left her lips. Oh, he was sure that they would find something there--but it would not be what they were searching for. It would not be the heart of the Rebel Alliance.

"There. You see Lord Vader, she can be reasonable," Tarkin said. Then, addressing Motti, he continued. "Continue with the operation. You may fire when ready."

Vader said nothing. Rage seethed within him now, barely controllable. If he could so easily determine that the girl was lying in regard to her Rebel base, how could she hide her relationship with the Kenobis so well? He had no answer.

_"What?"_ Leia cried.

"You're far too trusting. Dantooine is too remote to make an effective demonstration. But don't worry. We will deal with your Rebel friends soon enough."

"No!"

And finally she knew that she was beaten. Vader relished her defeat, certain that in its aftermath, she would not be able to muster the will to resist him. "Commence primary ignition."

-----

"One of these days, you're going to see that coming, Luke," Obi Wan laughed as he stood up. "All right, let's..."

"But, Dad, I was trying!" Luke cut him off. He hung his head. "I'm sorry. I said no more arguments."

"You did well, son," his father allowed, starting toward the boys. Suddenly, he faltered, rocked by a massive wave of pain and terror, a terrible crashing storm with in the Force so great that it staggered him. Ani fell forward, stumbling into the wall by the engineering station, where he barely managed to hold himself erect. Dazed, Luke clutched his chest and drew in a sharp, gasping breath before he moved to help his father sit.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his blue eyes searching Obi Wan's face with deep concern.

The Master nodded, waving a hand weakly toward his older son. Luke looked up and frowned, hurriedly moving to help Ani to the chair beside the engineering console. He gripped his brother's shoulder, and the Knight's hand moved slowly to touch his. Of all the children, Ani was most deeply sensitive to the Living Force; he was intuitive and had a powerful empathic gift. Obi Wan had never felt a disturbance in the Force of such magnitude, so he was certain that neither of the boys had. He struggled to pull himself out of the daze he was in, to focus on his son who was still reeling from the profound sense of loss--emptiness where life should have been.

"Anakin?" he asked softly.

"I'm…I'm all right," the boy nodded.

"What was it?" Luke asked.

"I don't know for sure. A great disturbance in the Force…" his father trailed off.

"As if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced," Ani murmured.

"I fear something terrible has happened," Obi Wan nodded.

Neither Jedi spoke for several moments, drifting off into contemplation of the Force while Luke stood watching uncertainly. Finally, Obi Wan looked back at him. "All right, Luke, you'd better continue with your exercises."

"Let's run through that again, see if you can keep your butt out of the way this time," suggested Ani with a chuckle.

They had just resumed their earlier positions when Han walked in from the cockpit with a lazily confident grin. "Well, you can forget your troubles with those Imperial slugs. I told you I'd outrun 'em."

The remotes rose around the boys, and Obi Wan smiled a little as he watched the seekers begin to dart and weave. Not so very long ago, the entrance of the smuggler captain would have distracted Luke. He would have been more interested in discussing Han's evasion techniques and the capabilities of the Imperial craft than in his lessons. Now, he spared no attention for Han. Ani still seemed slightly thrown off by the disturbance they had sensed. He took three successive hits, one to the right wrist, one to his left shoulder and a third to the back of his right knee. Usually, such unexpected clumsiness and lack of focus in his brother would have brought on a bout of good-natured mocking from Luke, but not this time. He worked steadily and without judgment, entirely open to the Force and trusting it to bring him and his lightsaber exactly where they needed to be. If his brother faltered, he was there to support and guard him, without question.

"Good, Luke," his father encouraged softly. "Let the Force flow through you."

"Well, don't everyone thank me at once…" Han went on.

Obi Wan kept his attention on the boys and Han wandered back into the lounge to watch Artoo and Chewie playing at holochess. He returned a few minutes later, just in time to see Ani struck in the back of his other leg. This time, the bolt sent the young Knight tumbling unceremoniously to the ground, and Han let out a smug laugh.

Obi Wan turned off the remotes with a thought, and Luke dropped to one knee beside his brother. "You okay?" he asked, glaring up at Han as he laid a hand on Ani's shoulder.

"Yeah," Ani chuckled. "Guess that's what I get for showing off, huh?"

"Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid," Han declared as Luke helped his brother up and both boys clipped their lightsabers to their belts.

"You don't believe in the Force, do you?" Luke asked.

"Kid, I've flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I've seen a lot of strange stuff, but I've never seen anything to make me believe there's one all-powerful force controlling everything. There's no mystical energy field that controls _my_ destiny," the smuggler declared.

The two brothers shared a knowing look, and Ani walked over to the engineering station, leaning casually against the console. He shrugged deferentially toward Han. "I'm sure Captain Solo's seen a lot more than we have out in the desert."

"You bet I have," Han agreed emphatically.

Ani gestured toward the console he was leaning on and frowned. "These are some interesting modifications. Something you've picked up in your travels?"

"More like a way to cut expenses and protect my privacy," replied Han, walking over to show off his handiwork. "I can access almost all the ship's functions either from here or the cockpit."

"Very efficient," Ani nodded. "Must have taken quite a lot of work what with the ship itself being so…heavily modified."

"Yeah, well--" began Han, reaching casually outward with one hand to grip the back of the chair beside him. The chair gave way under his weight, rolling to the side, and he let out a startled help. Ani was already moving and smoothly caught him by the arm to keep him from falling.

"Whoa! You all right there, Han?" Ani asked.

"What the--yeah, yeah, thanks," Han nodded. He hooked his foot around the base of the chair and dragged it back, then sat down heavily as if he were showing the recalcitrant piece of furniture who was boss. The rebellious chair went shooting backwards seemingly of its own accord, taking the unsuspecting Han along as it sailed across the room. It turned a circle and headed toward the holochess table, causing Threepio to let out a frightened yelp and throw up his hands.

"Oh, dear!" cried the droid.

Ani and Luke dissolved in hysterics, and Chewbacca let loose with a booming howl of mirth. Even Obi Wan couldn't resist a smile. The outraged Solo leapt to his feet, stalking back across the hold. Luke tensed as the freighter captain jabbed a finger into his brother's chest, but Ani simply looked back with an easy and unrepentant grin.

"I'm so gonna shoot you, kid!" Han declared.

"I'm not the kid, remember?" Ani shrugged, jerking his head to one side to indicate Luke. "That's him."

Luke abruptly stopped laughing. "Oh, _come on,_ Ani!"

Han twisted his head back and forth in a red-faced and disbelieving stare from one brother to the other. Finally, his gaze settled back on Ani, and for a half second, Obi Wan honestly thought the mercenary might actually try to shoot him. Then his face broke into a grin that matched the Knight's, and he extended a hand to clasp Ani's forearm as they both began to laugh.

"You're all right, Ani," Han declared.

-----

Bail Organa walked into Watto's junk shop to find himself with a blaster rifle jabbed pointedly into his chest. A clutter of droid parts rose off the shelves behind him and hurled themselves at the two Alderaanian Civil Service officers, forcing them to dive for cover. Pooja Naberrie, the young Senator from the Chommell Sector who had accompanied him, ducked behind him now to shield herself from a flying verbobrain.

"Padme!" he cried, frantically shaking back his hood to reveal his face.

"Bail…?" she stared in disbelief.

The two old friends studied each other for a long moment, taking in features both familiar and different. Then she suddenly realized that she was still holding a blaster to his chest and let it drop to the floor. Both let out a weak laugh and embraced, hugging each other tightly as Pooja came nervously out from behind the Prince's back.

"Aunt Padme?" she asked softly.

Padme pulled back from Bail at the sound of her name and turned to face the younger woman. For a few seconds, her expression was clearly confused, but as she took in the blonde hair she must still remember in the girl she had known and facial features so similar to her own and those of her sister, Sola, recognition dawned.

"Oh! Pooja!" she cried, springing forward again to wrap her niece in a fierce and almost desperate hug. "Pooja, we thought we'd never see any of you again! What are you _doing_ here?"

"_You_ thought--!" Pooja echoed, stifling tears against her aunt's shoulder. "Oh, Aunt Padme, we thought the Empire must have killed all of you by now. I was at your _funeral!"_

"I know, I'm sorry," Padme whispered.

"It was the only way," Pooja nodded in understanding.

"But what are you doing here?" Padme repeated, pulling back again to cup the younger woman's face in her hands.

"I serve in the Senate now," Pooja explained. "Leia and I have been friends--I guess I understand why now. But when the Senate was told that everyone aboard the _Tantive IV_ had been killed, I had to tell Bail. Then he was worried that the Emperor might have learned about her mission. He needed a ship that couldn't be traced to the Rebellion, and since I have diplomatic immunity…or did…he decided to risk telling me where you and Uncle Obi Wan had gone."

"Did?" Padme frowned.

"Palpatine has dissolved the Imperial Senate," explained Bail. "The regional governors now have direct control of the provinces, and he intends to use the fear of his new battle station to keep the star systems in line."

"Oh no--Bail--the plans. Obi Wan and the boys have already left to bring the plans to you!" exclaimed Padme.

"We hoped as much," Bail nodded. "When we saw what had been done to the Lars' farm, we started asking questions and tracked you here. But we should go, Padme. If we can find you, the Empire won't be far behind."

"Mom?" asked a hesitant voice from the interior of the shop.

Bail looked up in surprise to see a girl in her early twenties, blonde and fair skinned, who was obviously very pregnant. A dark haired toddler peeked out from behind her leg, staring with wide-eyed amazement at the scene before her. Padme turned, extending a reassuring hand toward them.

"Isaly, it's all right. This is Ani's Uncle Bail and his cousin, Pooja," she explained with a smile. The two came slowly into the room, and Padme looked back at Bail and Pooja. "This is Anakin's wife, Isaly, and his daughter, Shmi."

Bail and Pooja both blinked and then turned to one another with the same stunned expression. "Little Ani…?"

"He's not four anymore," Padme started to laugh. Then, abruptly her expression shifted, eyes widening with shock and pain. Isaly staggered back into the counter, and even little Shmi suddenly cried out and wobbled to the floor, landing heavily on her backside.

Frowning, Bail sprang forward to help support the pregnant girl while Pooja grabbed her aunt by the arm. Watto, who had been slinking around outside in case people started shooting, zipped inside and hovered in front of Shmi, all pretense of not caring for the child gone now.

"Little One, what'samatter?" he asked worriedly.

"Daddy," she whimpered in reply.

"Something terrible has happened," Padme told them softy.


	78. The Approach

A small light began to flash on the engineering console. Han glanced at it, then back at Ani. "Looks like we're coming up on Alderaan."

Ani nodded, watching the captain disappear into the cockpit. He pushed himself off the console and slipped a hand onto his brother's shoulder, leading Luke out of earshot, though he was sure their father could easily guess what he was about to say. Luke gave him a puzzled frown.

"Listen, kid. I've got a bad feeling. If something goes wrong, I need you to do me a favor," he said.

"Whaddaya mean, _go wrong?_" Luke asked, shaking his head. "Nothing's gonna go wrong."

"We don't know that, Luke. The future is always in motion. Just promise me that you'll look after my kids. Take care of Shmi," Ani said softly.

"No, Ani, don't talk like that--" Luke gave his head a violent shake.

"Luke. Please," Ani gripped his brother by the shoulders, holding his gaze.

Luke bit his lip. "Okay, Ani…"

Suddenly, the ship began to rock, and the brothers turned, rushing toward the cockpit. Inside, Han and Chewie were frantically trying to navigate through an unexpected meteor shower. Ani's stomach tightened with dread, and he looked over his shoulder, glad to see his father making his way in behind them.

"What's going on?" Luke asked worriedly.

"Our position is correct, except...no, Alderaan!" exclaimed Han, confirming Ani's worst fears.

"What do you mean? Where is it?" Luke demanded.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, kid. It ain't there. It's been totally blown away," Han said.

"What? How?" Luke cried.

"Destroyed…by the Empire!" Obi Wan declared as a hand came to rest on each of the boys' shoulders. Ani felt his father's fingers tighten, and looked back at him. As their eyes met, a new agreement passed between them. The Empire _must_ be stopped--now. Whatever the cost.

"The entire starfleet couldn't destroy the whole planet. It'd take a thousand ships with more fire power than I've…" Han broke off to glance down at the control panel in front of him. "There's another ship coming in."

"Maybe they know what happened," suggested Luke.

"It's an Imperial fighter," Ani told him flatly.

Chewbacca barked in concern. A huge explosion burst outside the cockpit, giving the ship another violent shake. A small, bat-like Imperial TIE fighter raced past them, coming into view as it shot past the window.

"It followed us!" exclaimed Luke.

"No. It's a short range fighter," Obi Wan said.

"There aren't any bases around here. Where did it come from?" Han asked.

"It sure is leaving in a big hurry," Luke observed. "If they identify us, we're in big trouble."

"Not if I can help it. Chewie, jam it's transmissions," ordered Han.

"It'd be as well to let it go. It's too far out of range," advised Obi Wan.

"Not for long," Han promised as he punched the accelerators and the Falcon began to gain on the TIE. In the distance, one of the stars beyond the cockpit window began to brighten, and Ani realized that the ship must be heading there.

"A fighter that size couldn't get this deep into space on its own," said Obi Wan.

"It must've gotten lost, been part of a convoy or something," Luke suggested.

"Well, he ain't going to be around long enough to tell anyone about us," Han declared.

"Look at him. He's headed for that small moon," Luke said.

"I think I can get him before he gets there. He's almost in range," Han told them.

"That's no moon," Ani said as he stared out at the monstrous metallic sphere that was beginning to take shape ahead of them.

"What?" Luke turned to look at him.

"It's a space station!" Obi Wan explained.

"It's too big to be a space station!" scoffed Han.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," Luke said.

"Yeah, I think your right. Full reverse! Chewie, lock in the auxiliary power," said Han, suddenly tense.

The ship began to shudder as the station's tractor beam locked on. Outside, the TIE fighter accelerated away, and the gargantuan metal monstrosity of the battle station continued to grow. Ani's heart began to pump faster as Han and Chewie worked to free them.

"Chewie, lock in auxiliary power!" Han said again.

"Why are we still moving towards it!" Luke almost screamed.

"We're caught in a tractor beam! It's pulling us in!" Han replied.

"But there must be something you can do!" Luke sputtered.

"There's nothin' I can do about it, kid. I'm in full power. I'm going to have to shut down. But they're not going to get me without a fight!" the mercenary captain declared.

He spun his chair, his eyes meeting Ani's with hot, crackling determination. The young Knight's nod of agreement was as icy and hard as the metal monster looming outside. He knew already that Darth Vader waited there. The Empire _must_ be stopped, here and now, and with his father's life at stake, Anakin Kenobi suddenly discovered a fierceness within himself that was a match for Han Solo's intensely stubborn pride. They started out of the cockpit together. Luke and Chewie followed, but Obi Wan called his sons back.

"Boys," he said with calm authority. "There are alternatives to fighting."

------

They falsified Han's logs and hid themselves in his smuggling compartments, waiting in the hot, cramped space within the floor of the _Falcon_ for the initial search crews to leave. Once the muffled clatter of storm troopers' footsteps and the barely intelligible voice of an Imperial Officer finally faded, Ani reached up to pop the false floor off the compartment. Obi Wan breathed a sigh of relief. His son's elbow had been jammed into his ribs for the past ten minutes. They straightened and looked cautiously around, and he caught sight of Luke doing the same.

"Boy, it's lucky you had these compartments!" the boy exclaimed as they climbed out.

"I use them for smuggling," Han explained. "I never thought I'd be smuggling myself in them. This is ridiculous. Even if I could take off, I'd never get past the tractor beam."

"Leave that to me!" Obi Wan said.

"Damn fool!" Han barked at him. "I knew you were going to say that."

"Who is the more foolish?" Obi Wan asked pointedly. "The fool or the fool who follows him?"

Han merely shook his head, muttering to himself as he walked off. Chewie gave the old Jedi a knowing look at admonished him that he'd better finish the job this time, then lumbered after Solo. Luke frowned questioningly toward his father.

"What was that about?" he asked.

Obi Wan smiled slightly. "Chewbacca helped Master Yoda escape from Kashyyyk at the end of the Clone Wars."

"Oh…" Luke's brow puckered further. He started after Han, then suddenly halted. Spinning back around, he grabbed his father's arm, his eyes suddenly gone wild with excitement. "Dad, she's here! Leia! She's here!"

Ani reached to clamp a restraining hand on the boy before he could rush off. "Luke, we know."

"Well, come on! What are we doing standing here, we have to _find_ her! Dad, you promised we'd find her as soon as--"

"Luke, _relax_," his father urged mildly. "Use the Force, son. _Think._ Rushing off will only get us all captured, and then how will we help your sister?"

"Disabling the tractor beam is our first priority," Ani said.

"_What?_" Luke lowered his voice to a desperate whisper to keep from shouting. "Leia is my priority, Anakin!"

"What exactly are you going to do for her if we can't get the tractor beam down?" Ani closed his eyes, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose.

Luke deflated, his burst of anger fading into reluctant acceptance. "What are we going to do?"

"First, we're going to concentrate on getting off the _Falcon,_" Ani let his hand drop and slowly opened his eyes. "Go with Han, kid. He's gonna need you in a second."

Luke turned a questioning look on Obi Wan, who gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Go on. We'll be along in a moment."

"Yes, sir," Luke sighed, reluctantly walking off.

Ani waited until his brother was out of earshot, then said softly, "You meant leave the tractor beam to _us,_ not _you._"

"No, Ani, I didn't," Obi Wan shook his head. "Luke will need your help to rescue Leia, you know that."

"I promised Mom that I would stay with you," the Knight replied.

"You're letting your personal feelings get in the way. You are too close, Anakin. To me and to Vader," said his Master firmly.

"Not to Vader," Ani said dispassionately. "Some part of Anakin Skywalker still exists within him. I may be able to reach him."

"It's too late for that. Your mother and I both tried on Mustafar, and he was already too far gone," Obi Wan shook his head.

"With respect, Master, my relationship to him is different from both of yours. He was in love with my mother. That love turned to obsession, blinded him to her caring for him because he was too jealous of you to understand the truth. You've said yourself that your own relationship with him was full of unresolved tensions. Your friendship was broken and repaired too often. Breaks heal, yes, but they leave stress points which make it easier to shatter them with the right pressure applied. That's exactly what Emperor Palpatine did to the two of you. There has never been a break between my uncle and I. I don't believe there can be now. If anyone can reach him, it's me."

"You're basing that on your own feelings of obligation to Anakin Skywalker," Obi Wan said.

"Is that so wrong? Uncle Anakin saved my life," Ani pointed out.

"He saved mine many times. The bond we shared was still broken, Ani. It was destroyed when he turned to the Dark Side," Obi Wan said. "The same is true for the one he shared with you."

"I disagree," Ani said without hesitation. He inclined his head. "Master. You and he were rivals from the moment you met on Tatooine. Rivals for Qui-Gon's attention and affection as much as for my mother's. Each time he saved your life, it only created a counter-tension for that rivalry. If one applies enough pressure to any object in multiple directions, sooner or later the object will be torn apart. The dynamic is entirely opposed to the one between he and I. When I was born, I became the object of all the best in Anakin Skywalker, the outlet for his selflessness and devotion because my mother couldn't be that for him. The Dark Side has twisted that dynamic, yes, but not destroyed it. I don't know if I can reach him, but I have to try."

"We can't risk it," Obi Wan shook his head. "One of us must survive to finish the twins' training."

Ani's eyes flew wide. "No! Dad, don't ask me to do that--"

"Son--"

"Please, Dad," he shook his head. "I can't. I'm not ready."

"Then you must take them to Yoda," Obi Wan said, his hand moving back to the young man's arm with quiet acceptance.

"Let me go with you!" Ani pleaded.

"No. Stay and watch over your brother and sister. Make sure Leia is safe. She is the only one we know who can retrieve the plans that Artoo is carrying. The Rebellion needs them."

"I made a promise to my mother. You taught me to keep my word," Ani argued.

"Your mother would do her duty, Anakin. Do yours now, son. Make her proud," Obi Wan replied. Tears filled his eyes as he watched his son offer a low bow.

"Yes, my Master."


	79. The Place For Love And Duty

As the door to the command office slid open, Chewie let out a fearsome howl. The stunned Gantry Officer stumbled backward in shock and terror at the sight of him. The Wookiee's arm collided with him before he could react, and Han quickly blasted the only aide on duty. Obi Wan and Luke rushed inside, followed a moment later by Ani.

"You know, between his howling and your blasting everything in sight, it's a wonder the whole station doesn't know we're here!" Luke cried as he pulled of the helmet of his stormtrooper disguise.

"Bring them on! I prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around!" Han declared hotly.

Ani stepped forward, laying a placating hand on the mercenary's shoulder. "Han--"

His friend whirled to face him. "Listen, if you tell me to trust in the Force, I'll blast you, Ani!"

Ani gave a half smile. "Trust me."

Han glared at him for a few seconds, then grudgingly replied. "Okay. But I better get paid extra for this."

"Of course," Ani smirked.

"We found the computer outlet, sir," Threepio said, and Ani turned toward where his father was studying a map of the station.

"Plug in. He should be able to interpret the entire Imperial computer network," the Jedi Master replied.

Artoo punched his claw arm into the computer socket and the vast system comes to life, feeding information to the little droid. After a few moments, he beeped something.

"He says he's found the main computer to power the tractor beam that's holding the ship here. He'll try to make the precise location appear on the monitor," translated Threepio. The monitor flashed a readout and the droid continued, "The tractor beam is coupled to the main reactor in seven locations. A power loss at one of the terminals will allow the ship to leave."

Ani frowned at the readout, studying it carefully, then pointed over his father's shoulder. It took all his strength of will even to open his mouth, but when the words came out, they were spoken with the calm dispassion of a Jedi. "Here, Master. This one is closest to our position."

Obi Wan stroked his chin and nodded. "I don't think you boys can help. I must go alone."

"Whatever you say. I've done more than I bargained for on this trip already," Han grumbled.

"We don't do that in this family!" Luke shook his head.

"Luke, you'll have your own task to accomplish. Remember, Leia is here," Obi Wan said with a meaningful look at both boys.

"Who?" demanded Han.

"But I want to go with you!" insisted Luke.

"Be patient, son. Stay here with the droids for now. They must be delivered safely or other star systems will suffer the same fate as Alderaan. Listen to your brother. He'll know when the time is right," instructed Obi Wan.

"Time is right for _what?"_ exclaimed Han.

"Dad--" Luke protested.

"No arguments, remember?" Obi Wan smiled. "Your destiny lies along a different path from mine. The Force will be with you...always."

Ani watched solemnly as his father adjusted his belt, stepped silently out of the command office, and disappeared down a long gray hall. Somewhere in the maze of similar halls, he knew that Darth Vader lingered waiting, and that the glowing red blade in his hand was poised to take Obi Wan's life. More than anything, he wanted to rush out after his father. Padme's urgent whisper still echoed through his mind.

_Stay with him, Ani. Whatever happens, stay with Dad._

Yet here he stood, listening to Han and Luke bicker. All he could sense from his brother was edgy excitement--perhaps a bit of concern for Obi Wan, but no overt worry. Luke had no idea that Vader lurked out there, no inkling that their father had just walked quietly off to face a Sith Lord, and Ani wouldn't say anything, because that was exactly as Obi Wan wanted it. He needed no half-trained, overzealous son charging into the middle of a battle which had begun more than eighteen years ago. This was his fight.

_But it's also mine,_ Ani thought. Luke's destiny may lie along a different path from their father's, but from the time he was old enough to grasp such concepts, Anakin Kenobi had understood that his own path was tied to Obi Wan's--and to Anakin Skywalker's. He was willing to accept that one of them must meet his end today, but a man who had seen the future for twenty years understood that there were no absolutes when it came to prescience. Nothing was to say that the end must be Obi Wan's….and yet he also knew that it was not Obi Wan's destiny to kill Vader.

He closed his eyes. Obi Wan was no longer technically his Master. He was under no obligation to obey. Even so, he understood that his father wished him to stay here, and although he might have disobeyed Obi Wan in some small things, he had never willfully disregarded an order that his Master gave him as a Jedi.

_Qui-Gon, what should I do?_

No one can make this choice for you, Ani, replied the Force ghost. _It is yours alone._

He bowed his head. In his mind's eye, he saw the warriors of light and dark collide. He knew that Vader could not win, but neither could Obi Wan. So in the end it came down to the choice that he had always known would come. To sacrifice his father's life or to take Anakin Skywalker's. To watch the red blade strike or to act against it.

"I can't…" he whispered.

_Stay with him, Ani. Whatever happens, stay with Dad._

Luke turned sharply away from Han and frowned at him. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

Anakin wouldn't kill him. Vader would try, but Anakin Skywalker could still stop him. Ani held no illusion that it would be easy to reach the human heart that still beat beneath the killer's armor. Vader had lived the last eighteen years as a butcher, but if he didn't try, he might well be condemning both his uncle _and_ Obi Wan.

"I can't," he decided.

"What?" Luke and Han were both staring at him now.

"I'm going with Dad," he announced, stepping out into the hall before an argument could start.

"He told us not to!" Luke cried.

"I know," Ani said, half turning to offer his brother a grin that he hoped appeared genuine. "Go get Leia, kid."

"Who is Leia?!" demanded Han.

"You'll see. Just you watch yourself around her, Han," Ani told the smuggler, then abruptly turned and raced up the hall after Obi Wan.

-----

Chewie growled something that sounded decidedly rude as Ani ran off, and Han muttered agreement. Luke turned to look at them with a raised eyebrow.

"Y'know, kid, your brother's as crazy as the old man," Han remarked with a disgusted shake of his head.

_Sometimes I think you're right,_ Luke thought with a rueful inward sigh. Then he flushed guiltily at his own disloyalty. At least Ani and Dad were doing something to help!

"Listen, shut up, okay?" he said. "My father is a great man!"

"Yeah, great at getting us into trouble," Han snorted.

"I didn't hear you giving any ideas," Luke pointed out, then looked quickly toward the droids, dismissing the subject _and_ the mercenaries. "Artoo, plug in again. We need to figure out where they're holding her and…"

"All right, that's _it!_" Han cut him off. "Either you tell me exactly what's going on around here, kid, or I start shooting!"

"It's my sister," Luke explained absently, moving over to peer at the monitor where his father had been sitting a few moments ago. "She's here somewhere, we have to find her."

"Your sister!" Han exclaimed. "Wait a minute, nobody said anything about rescuing your sister!"

"We didn't know she was here when we left Tatooine," Luke shook his head in annoyance.

"Oh yeah?" Han challenged. "Then how do you know now? Oh. Wait, lemme guess. _The Force_ told you."

"As a matter of fact--" Luke began, but an excited barrage of beeps and whistles from Artoo cut him off.

"Level five. Detention block A A-twenty-three. I'm afraid she's scheduled to be terminated," said Threepio.

Luke felt his entire body go cold. "NO! We have to do something!"

"Now, wait just a minute, kid," Han told him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"They're going to execute her! Look, a few minutes ago you said you didn't want to just wait here to be captured. Now all you want to do is stay," Luke argued frantically.

"Marching into the detention area is not what I had in mind," Han said dryly.

"But they're going to _kill her!_" Luke pleaded.

"Better her than me," declared Han.

Luke stared at him for a long moment, wondering whether there was any point in arguing further. He was going to go, whether Han accompanied him or not, and he knew that he didn't have much time. Still, Han made his living doing things like this. He was a mercenary. Luke had grown up as a moisture farmer on Tatooine…

_A mercenary!_ he thought with sudden inspiration.

"She's rich…"

Chewbacca growled with interest.

"Rich?" Han perked up.

"She's a princess," Luke grinned.

"How is _your_ sister a princess?" demanded Han.

"Our uncle is a prince," Luke shrugged. After all, the Kenobi kids _had_ called Bail Organa "uncle" since Ani was born, and he couldn't exactly explain how Leia had ended up on Alderaan. "He didn't have any kids, so Leia will inherit his wife's throne. And her fortune. Listen, if you were to rescue her, the reward would be..."

"What?" prompted Han.

"Well, more wealth that you can imagine," said Luke.

"I don't know, I can imagine quite a bit!" Han declared.

"You'll get it!" promised Luke.

"I better!"

-----

Leia lifted her head as her cell door slid open. She stared blankly at the stormtrooper who appeared there. He tilted his head comically as she sat up, and they regarded each other silently for a tense moment…well. Tense on her part. He seemed to be completely oblivious to anything but the sight of her face.

"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?" she asked ironically.

"What? Oh! The uniform!" he babbled as he suddenly pulled the helmet off. "Leia, it's me…of course, you don't remember me. Uh…"

"Am I supposed to…?" she trailed off, frowning. The sandy blonde hair and blue eyes should have been totally unfamiliar to her. She didn't recognize him--not really--and yet, even as the question passed her lips, she somehow felt that she should.

"My--my name's Luke," he stammered, biting his lip as he came toward her. They stood staring at each other for a second, and then he shifted the helmet under his arm reached out his hand, tentatively waiting for her to take it.

Still frowning, she drew in a shaky breath and clasped his fingers, entirely unsure what even compelled her to do it. "Who are you?"

"I'm--your brother," he said.

"I've never had a brother," she shook her head.

"Yes you have, Sis. Two, actually. Anyway. Listen, Dad and Ani have explained how to do this before, but I never really thought I'd have to do it," he rambled.

"Done what?" she asked, wondering vaguely why she didn't think he was completely insane.

He closed his eyes, releasing her hand to press the tips of his fingers to her forehead. She felt a strange, cold tingling sensation which seemed to be _inside_ her head and not on the skin he was touching. "Leia, remember Tatooine."

The room seemed to waver around her, and she stared back at him, trying to keep her gaze focused on his face. The face she knew better than her own--why hadn't she recognized it a moment before. Luke's hands moved onto her shoulders, steadying her, and she dragged in a long breath.

"Luke…!"

"Just sit still a second, Sis," he looked down at her worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she replied shakily. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"It's okay. No one knows we're here yet," he nodded.

"We? Who's with you?"

"Dad and Ani--"

"Dad!" she cried, horrified. "Luke, Vader is here!"

His eyes went wide with shock. "Vader! Oh no…"

"Come on!" she said, grabbing his hands to haul herself to her feet. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and she reached out instinctively into the Force, drawing on its energy to clear her mind and give her the stability she needed. They raced for the cell door, and as they reached it, she heard an unfamiliar voice bellow, "Luke, we're gonna have company!"

-----

"I thought I told you to stay with your brother," Obi Wan said as Ani caught up with him in the corridor.

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Master. I felt my place was with you. I'd be happy to debate it with you later, but for now I suggest we focus on the present."

Another time, Obi Wan would have smiled. Now though, he only turned and gripped the Knight's shoulder, looking deeply into his eyes. "Can you kill him, Anakin?"

Ani was a Jedi Knight. He had been raised and trained to serve the will of the Force, to carry out his duty regardless of personal feelings or attachment. He was also a deeply caring and gentle young man who had never faced a real enemy in combat. There was no question in his father's mind that his skill with a lightsaber would hold him in good stead if they faced Vader together. He and Qui-Gon had both drilled the boy in saber combat from their earliest days in exile on Tatooine He may not have been Anakin Skywalker's equal in swordplay nor in sheer Force ability, but at least in terms of power, neither was Obi Wan himself anymore. Vader had more raw strength in the Force than any being in the history of the Jedi Order; he had once been considered the Chosen One, the fulfillment of ancient Jedi prophecy. Together, though, he and Ani might be able to defeat Vader. The question was whether Ani could let go of the attachment he felt to his uncle, or whether, confronted with the difference between a training spar and a battle, that attachment would cause his resolve to falter.

"I am your son," he replied simply. "I will do what I must."


	80. The Circle Is Now Complete

This chapter deals with the duel, so there will be more than the usual violence for One Path.

-----

Darth Vader stepped into the hangar's entrance tunnel and saw his old enemy not ten feet away. Surprisingly, beside him stood a younger man whose face was hidden in the shadows of a hooded cloak. So. The old fool had managed to find himself an apprentice. Very well. The boy could be dealt with as well. All three warriors ignited their lightsabers, and Vader came forward. The Jedi stepped slowly toward the Sith, and Vader paused, allowing his hate to deepen, drawing on it. He had been waiting a long time for this moment. It must be savored.

"I've been waiting for you, Obi Wan," he said. "The circle is now complete. "When I left you, I was but the learner. Now I am the Master."

"But only a Master of evil, Darth," the old man replied.

Kenobi flowed with elegant ease into a classical offensive stance, but oddly the boy beside kept his blade down at his side, maintaining a passive attitude, and Vader sensed hesitation in him… hesitation, reluctance, even sorrow…

But no fear.

He let his hood fall back, confronting Vader with tearful blue eyes. "That's right, Uncle. It's me."

_No._

"You should not have come," Vader told him.

"It doesn't matter," Ani replied as the green blade in his hand rose and he mirrored his father's stance. "I'm here now. And I can't let you do this."

The words were simple, and hotter to Darth Vader than the weapon in his hand. They pierced armor, metal, flesh and bone, searing through the Dark Lord to incinerate what remained of his heart with this final betrayal. He accepted them with the cold and unflinching demeanor of the Sith Lord he had become since he had last seen the boy. Drawing them into himself, he absorbed their full impact, let the pain of their meaning blossom and become his weapon.

"Then you are a traitor, like your father," he said.

"Like my father," Anakin Kenobi echoed as his feelings became a serene and crystalline reflection of the Jedi Master's peace. He radiated the Light Side as the three of them went still and silent, preparing. Vader reached out through the Force, using it like a giant vice to squeeze both of them. The old man struggled to resist, and suddenly he lunged, followed a split second later by the boy. Vader smoothly parried the father's attack and let his forward momentum carry him into a saber lock with the son.

"Do not make me kill you," he said.

"You couldn't kill me then, Uncle. I don't believe you'll kill me now," Ani replied.

Their crossed blades broke contact as Vader pivoted to counter another attack by the old man, using the Force to shove Ani back at the same time. Then, Master and Apprentice resumed their war. Vader slashed toward his former teacher's leg and Obi Wan blocked the blow, countering with a swift strike which in turn was blocked and countered by Vader.

Obi Wan edged around him, stepping through the open door and backing into the hanger as they fought, trying to give Ani more room to help him. He was aware of the boy following them, circling the dueling combatants, waiting for an opening, but Vader's attention was focused squarely on the father. The old man was beginning to tire, drawing more heavily now on the Force to empower his strikes and fend off Vader's attacks. It would only be a matter of time. He found himself slightly disappointed. Once his former Master had been almost a match for him. Now he was a pathetic relic from a dead age.

Ani rushed back in on Vader's right, forcing the Dark Lord to step back out of Obi Wan's reach as he arched his red lightsaber down to meet the boy's green one before its tip could pierce his side. Another flurry of blows followed as Vader now found himself defending against two Jedi instead of one.

"Uncle Anakin, listen to me," Ani said.

"Your uncle is no more, boy," he replied.

"Then why did you ask me not to make you kill me?" Ani asked calmly. "Oh, I know exactly who you are, Lord Vader. I was there, remember? But Anakin Skywalker is still inside you. I can feel him."

Stormtroopers who had been on duty guarding the ship ran toward them, aiming blasters as they came around the wide pit separating them from the ship. Once they reached Vader, they stood watching, unable to get a clear shot without risk of hitting him. They did, however, effectively cut off the Jedis' path of escape. Ani glanced toward them, and Vader lunged, taking advantage of the inexperienced youth's distraction to slash out at the boy's saber hand. It was a clean blow, and the hand tumbled down onto the floor at their feet while Ani's eyes bulged with shock. He let out an agonized scream.

Obi Wan stepped smoothly between him and Vader, blue blade blocking red before the Sith could do more damage--exactly as Vader wanted. Without a weapon hand, the boy would be of no further use in combat. He would be forced to withdraw, and with him safely out of the way, the Dark Lord could finish the battle that he and his former Master had begun on Mustafar.

"Get back, Anakin," the old man ordered calmly.

Ani staggered back a few steps to give his father room, then held his ground. Vader could finally feel his Jedi calm wavering. Fear was mounting in him now, but not for himself. "I won't leave you," he rasped through clenched teeth.

"You powers are weak, old man," Vader told Obi Wan.

"You can't win, Darth. If you strike me down, I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

"No one is going to strike you down!" Ani exclaimed fiercely. Vader felt a wave anger from him as he called the lightsaber into his remaining hand. That anger propelled him into the air, and he somersaulted over father's head to meet the next strike of the red blade.

"Anakin!" the old man shouted. _"Not this way!"_

Vader was momentarily caught off guard by the ferocity of the boy's attack. He was surprisingly capable with his left hand, and his anger lent far more power to his strikes than the Dark Lord would have expected for a Jedi. He stepped back again, taking a moment to regroup, but Ani pressed in, driving him furiously back through the door and away from Obi Wan. He drew greatly on the Force, delivering lightning fast blows which gave his father no opportunity to intervene, though the old man hurried after them and kept his blade in guard position to await an opening.

"I sense much anger in you, son," Vader said as they fought. "Perhaps you are not such a Jedi after all."

"My father is over there, Uncle. And I won't let you kill him," came the reply.

"You are a stubborn fool, boy," Vader told him.

Their faces were only inches apart. Ani smiled grimly. "My name is Anakin."

He was tiring, though. The pain of his lost hand was wearing on him, and as his initial burst of anger faded, he became clumsy, easy prey for the Dark Lord. Ani's blade arced in a high left sweep toward his shoulder and Vader pivoted as smoothly as if the two were engaged in a macabre dance rather than a duel. The red blade struck. Again, Ani let out a scream, and this time he crumpled to his knees as his left arm fell away at the elbow.

Vader called the fallen green lightsaber to his hand before Obi Wan could recover from the shock of seeing his son hit the ground. He crossed both blades at the boy's throat, giving the old man a long, dire look of warning. The Force itself roiled around them like a storm.

"Surrender," Vader commanded.

Ani closed his eyes. Vader felt him release what remained of his anger, felt his fear dissipate into the Force, and when he looked at his uncle again, it was with the serene acceptance of a Jedi Knight. "I won't surrender, Uncle Anakin. You'll have to kill me."

_Do it,_ he heard through the Force. _Kill him. Do it now._

"If that is your destiny," Vader replied with calculated disinterest. "But who will save your father if I do?"

_Vader!_ snarled the voice of Palpatine in his mind. _Kill him!_

Without moving more than his eyes, Ani shifted his gaze from Vader to Obi Wan. "I love you."

"I know," the old man's voice broke on the words.

Vader felt again the crushing weight of the Force grip that Palpatine had used against him on the night the Jedi Temple burned. This time, though, it came only from within himself. He had destroyed the Jedi Order for this boy, planned to lay the galaxy at his feet. Yet it seemed that the boy too would betray him in the end. Still, he found himself unable to destroy him so quickly. There might be another way.

"Turn to the Dark Side. Become my apprentice, and I will spare your father," he said.

"Even if you would, Palpatine would not be so generous," Ani replied calmly.

"Together we could destroy the Emperor," Vader offered.

Ani looked back at him and smiled sadly. "I owe Anakin Skywalker my life twice over. If he wants it now, let him take it."

_"Ani! No!!"_ a chorus of voices shouted. _The one that Vader heard above all of them wasn't even alive--the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn._ Stunned, he looked up to see two men in stormtrooper armor, a _Wookiee_, and that accursed princess across the docking bay. The Wookiee gave an inarticulate howl of rage, and the humans leveled blasters, firing into the mass of stormtroopers that charged back toward the ship--

----

--and that one moment of distraction was all that Obi Wan Kenobi needed. Darth Vader was now a terrifying and hideous mass of machinery meshed with human flesh, far stronger than a human being, even without the aid of the Force. He had few weaknesses, but there was one of which Obi Wan had been aware even on Mustafar, when only one of his arms had been cybernetic. It would only give Ani a momentary advantage, but he was entirely centered and open to the Force as he prepared for what he anticipated to be the end of his life. With that focus, the Knight just _might_ be able to use the only advantage his father could provide. The Jedi Master reached into the Force not to deliver a massive blow but with the consummate skill and respect for life which was at the core of what separated the Jedi from the Sith. With a thought, he activated the servos that controlled Vader's mechanical arms, lifting the lightsabers away from his son's neck. As he did so, Ani leaned to one side, bracing himself on his remaining elbow to pivot into a leg sweep that knocked the unfocused Vader hard to the ground. Qui-Gon's lightsaber went skittering across the floor, but the red one remained in the Sith's grasp.

As the force of Ani's kick sent Vader sprawling into the wall, Obi Wan turned toward the doorway where he could see his twins still blasting away at the stormtroopers with Force-aided precision. The droids were already clanging their way up the _Falcon's_ ramp with Chewbacca behind them. Han stood at the base of the ramp, screaming at the twins to come on, but they weren't moving.

"Run, Luke! Leia! Run!" he ordered.

The did. _Toward him!_

_"Dad!!!"_

He felt Vader's lightsaber leave his enemy's hand even as they shouted the warning. He started to dive out of the way, already conscious that he wouldn't be fast enough. Suddenly, Ani flipped off of the ground, using the Force to propel his body against Obi Wan's and hurl them sideways through the open door. An instant before they struck the metal floor, the menacing hum of Vader's lightsaber buzzed past the Jedi Master's side, and his son shrieked in pain again.

"Blast the _door,_ kid!" Han Solo shouted.

Obi Wan rolled to his feet in time to see Vader pull himself off the ground in the hallway and call his lightsaber back to his hand. Luke blasted the control mechanism on the door separating them from the hallway where Vader stood. The last remaining stormtrooper fired off a shot at the Jedi Master, but his blue blade was already rising across his chest to deflect it. The beam bounced off the blade but missed the trooper. He was about to take another shot when Leia blasted him from across the hangar.

Spinning again, Obi Wan saw the door slide closed, trapping Vader in the hallway. Then he looked down and felt his stomach twist with horror at the sight of his firstborn. Ani was curled on the floor in a heap, both legs now gone at the knees. He dropped to the floor, hurriedly lifting what was left of the boy's right arm around his neck.

"Anakin, come on, we don't have much time," he urged.

Ani shook his head weakly. "I can't…I can't make it, Dad. Leave me."

"We don't do that in this family," Obi Wan shook his head. He looked up again, calling toward the twins, "Leia, get to the ship! Luke, help me! Hurry!"

Leia cast her twin brother and uncertain look. Luke gripped her shoulders briefly and nodded, then raced forward, Force leaping across the gap between them. He landed too close to the edge and tottered back, pinwheeling his arms for a few seconds before managing to throw himself forward and skid the rest of the way to his father and older brother. Together, they lifted Ani, carrying the maimed Jedi Knight back to the Falcon. They reached the ramp just as more storm troopers began pouring into the hangar. Han came clanging back down the ramp to give them cover fire, backing into the ship behind them.

"I hope you got that tractor beam out of commission, old man, or this is going to be a short trip!" he said once they were all inside.

Obi Wan could only nod.

"Have you got a bacta tank on board?" Leia asked urgently.

"No, but there's a cryo capsule in the forward cargo hold. We can put him in stasis until…"

"No," Ani shook his head without looking up.

The clang of blaster fire hitting the outside of the ship began as soon as the ramp was up. Han shook his head in angry dismay. "You're crazy, Ani, but I don't have time to argue. Crew quarters. Back there," he said with a wave of his arm as he raced for the cockpit.

-----

Ani fought for consciousness as his family carried him into the rear of the ship and laid him in a tangle of blankets that could only be Han's bunk. The ship rocked as Han and Chewie powered out of the docking bay and turned hard to evade pursuit. His father stood beside him with the twins watching tensely beside him, and Ani struggled to focus on Obi Wan's face through a haze of pain.

"Dad…" he gasped out.

Obi Wan gently caressed his cheek with the backs of his knuckles. "Rest, Anakin. I'll stay with you."

"I'm sorry, Dad," he shook his head.

"For what?" Obi Wan's voice broke.

His head was swimming. A great weight settled over him, making each word a battle. He desperately fought the urge to close his eyes, knowing that if he did, he might never have the chance to say what he needed to. "…failed…Master…failed you…"

"Ani, you saved my life!" his father exclaimed.

"…should've listened…I couldn't…I love…couldn't let you go…"

"Ani, no!" Leia rushed forward, kneeling beside the bed. She shook her head tearfully and rested her cheek against his chest. "You didn't fail anyone! You did what you had to do--what any of us would've done."

He forced his lips to form words, but couldn't push sound up out of his throat. Before he managed it, Han came running back to them. Leia's head jerked up and she turned questioningly toward the doorway. Luke turned as well, and Han gestured toward the cockpit.

"Come on, buddy, we're not out of this yet."

Luke glanced apologetically toward Ani and Obi Wan, then raced out after the pilot. Obi Wan laid a hand on Leia's shoulder. "Go with your brother," he said softly.

Leia nodded, reaching to squeeze his hand before she followed Luke out of the room. Obi Wan then slid down onto the side of the bunk. Brushing back Ani's hair with the palm of his hand, he murmured, "Leia's right, you know."

Ani sighed quietly. "Dad…something else…"

Obi Wan nodded.

"There's still…good…he didn't want to…" Ani said.

"I know, Ani," his father replied.

Content now, Ani let his eyes slide closed, and as he did, he heard another voice through the Force.

_Anakin._

_Uncle,_ he acknowledged wearily.

_Forgive me, son._

He smiled faintly. _I love you._


	81. At What Cost?

"Not a bad bit of rescuing, huh? You know, sometimes I even amaze myself," the mercenary captain remarked.

Leia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "That doesn't sound too hard. Besides, they let us go. It's the only explanation for the ease of our escape."

"Easy? You call that easy?" he scoffed.

"They're tracking us!" she told him firmly.

"Not _this_ ship, sister!" he insisted.

She clamped her jaw on an angry retort and said only, "At least the information in Artoo is still intact."

"What's so important? What's he carrying?" Han wanted to know.

"The technical readouts of that battle station," explained Leia. "I only hope that when the data is analyzed, a weakness can be found. It's not over yet!"

"It is for me, sister! Look, I ain't in this for your revolution, and I'm not in it for you, Princess. I expect to be well paid. I'm in it for the money!" declared Han.

The words struck like a swift kick in the stomach, and Leia forcibly restrained a gasp. The muscle in her lower jaw quivered with anger. Billions of people had just lost their _lives_ on Alderaan, including her father--uncle. She closed her eyes briefly, feeling her head begin to spin at the paradox. The false memories were fading, but her emotional attachment to Bail Organa was as real as the one she felt to Obi Wan--and to her brothers. With her eyes closed, she watched again as the red blade sliced off her brother's hand--his arm. She felt the fear and horror as it flashed through the air toward Obi Wan, the stunned disbelief when Ani managed to knock him out of the way, the sinking revulsion seconds later as she understood what the feat had cost him.

And all Han Solo cared about was money.

"You needn't worry about your reward. If money is all that you love, then that's what you'll receive," she declared coldly. Then she angrily turned, brushing past Luke on her way out of the cockpit. "Your friend is quite a mercenary. I wonder if he really cares about anything...or anyone."

"I care!" she heard her brother call after her.

She managed not to cry until she reached the lounge. Letting out a breath in frustration, she angrily wiped the tears away as Luke came up behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders and she automatically stiffened. He stood there, calmly accepting her feelings, waiting, and she forced herself to relax. Turning, she rested her forehead against his chest and let a few more tears escape as he hugged her.

"You okay?" he whispered after a few moments.

She nodded, still not moving, and he gently moved her back, searching her face. She looked up at him with a weak but genuine smile and brushed his cheek gratefully with her fingers. "I really am," she promised.

"Don't worry about Han. He's just--" he broke off, clearly uncertain of exactly how to explain Han.

"Don't apologize for him, Luke," she said. "I'm…going to talk to Dad."

"Okay," he smiled, letting her go.

She kissed his cheek and turned away, walking back to the crew quarters, where she found her father still sitting on the side of Han's bunk. Ani lay with his eyes closed, completely unmoving, and Leia felt a spike of fear before she realized that his chest was still rising and falling, albeit at a strangely slow rate. Obi Wan looked up at her, gesturing silently for her to join him, and she stepped tentatively inside.

All her poise deserted her as she walked over to sit beside him. She pressed her lips together in thought, turning first toward the eerily still Anakin. He didn't stir even when she reached to stroke his sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead. Swallowing, she looked toward their father.

"Will he be all right?" she asked fearfully.

"It's a Jedi healing trance," Obi Wan explained with a nod. "He's still aware of everything going on around him, but he won't be able to respond. It will keep him stabilized until we can get him proper medical attention."

Leia bowed her head, feeling tears start to form again. Obi Wan laid a finger under her chin and tilted her face back up to meet his gaze. She wondered again how she could have forgotten those eyes or the gentle touch of his hands. There was a familiar roughness to his finger as he lifted her chin, and it resonated somewhere inside her, bringing welcome comfort.

"He's still alive, Leia. We all are. We're all--"

"Together," she nodded, knowing what he would say before the sentence was complete. "You're right. I know."

"But?" he asked.

She shook her head slowly, unsure of how to begin. "So many things. Mostly I guess I--wish that I could say I've missed you."

He smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I think your mother and I have missed you enough for all three of us."

"Mom!" Leia exclaimed. "Where's Mom?"

"Still on Tatooine. She and Ani's wife, Isaly are in Mos Espa with a friend. They should be safe there until the information in Artoo can be delivered to the Rebellion," he assured her.

"_Wife?_" Leia felt her stomach sink.

"Anakin was married about three years ago," nodded her father. "They have a daughter--and twins on the way. In fact, by the time we get home, I wouldn't be surprised if the _on the way_ part no longer applied."

Leia let that information sink in, then gave a quiet sigh. "I feel like I've missed so much, Dad."

Obi Wan nodded thoughtfully. "The Clone Wars had been going on for about a year when your brother was born. I wasn't there for most of your mother's pregnancy, and I missed the birth. I came home and suddenly had son. I was called away again and by the time I got back, the baby I left had become a toddler. Then I left _again_. I didn't really get to be _part_ of Anakin's growing up until after the war ended."

"That must've been difficult for everyone," Leia observed.

"It was harder when your mother and I sent you to Alderaan. You left us a little girl. You're coming back a grown woman--a Senator, a member of the Rebel Alliance. All of us have missed things we can't get back. All we can do is go forward," he said.

"I know that…" she trailed off, frowning toward the door as angry voices began to reach them from the main hold.

"We'd better get out there before Han decides to start shooting," Obi Wan remarked with a sigh.

Leia hurried out of the room and found her brother and the smuggler facing off in the center of the lounge. Luke's eyes blazed with a kind of anger she had never seen in her twin, and Han, surprisingly, raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Whoa, kid, calm down a second will ya?"

"Listen, don't call me kid, either! My name is Luke!" he snapped.

Han planted his fists on his hips and nodded sharply. "Okay, then, Luke. You wanna tell me what your problem is all the sudden?"

"My problem?" Luke repeated. "I think you're the one with the problem, Han. My brother is lying in there with no arms and legs, and all you can think about is money--or--or hitting on my sister!"

"All I _did_ was ask if you thought a princess and a guy like me--"

Leia shoved her way between them, glaring up at the smuggler. "If you even think there's a possibility, you're more insane than I thought! Now, I'll tell you what you're going to do…"

"Oh you will?" he fired back.

"Yes! You're going to get back in that cockpit and fly this hunk of junk to Yavin 4," she told him flatly.

"And if I don't?" Han challenged.

"Well, then you won't get paid," the princess replied icily.

Han stared down at her for a long, tense moment but finally took a step back. "Whatever you _say_, Your Worship."

The twins watched him storm off, then Luke suddenly deflated, flopping down at the table. He rested his head on his arms and gave a dejected sigh. Leia frowned in concern, touching his shoulder before she slipped past their father and back into the crew quarters to find a blanket. When she returned, Obi Wan had taken the seat beside him, and she moved quietly over to wrap the blanket around his shoulders, hugging him from behind.

"I should've gone with him," he mumbled.

"Luke, you would've been killed," Obi Wan said.

"And so would I if you hadn't been there to rescue me," Leia reminded him.

"Then I should've stopped him. I promised Shmi I'd take care of him and look what happened!" Luke cried.

"Son, it wasn't your fault," promised Obi Wan.

"No, it was Vader's. But I still should have done _something_ instead of standing there watching you go," Luke insisted.

"You didn't know that Vader was there," Leia reminded him.

"I would have if I'd been more focused! If I'd been paying attention--"

"Luke, Dad says that Ani is going to be all right. Whatever else happened, that's the part that matters. We're all alive. Together."

-----

Han left the Kenobis largely to themselves after that. He stayed in the cockpit not so much because he was worried about upsetting the delicate sensibilities of Princess Leia, who apparently wanted him there, but because it was where he felt the most at home with a family aboard the Falcon. Family was a liability that Han Solo couldn't afford, and so he avoided contact with the family groups of those around him. If the old man and his kids hadn't been so desperate that they'd been willing to pay him seventeen thousand for this job, he wouldn't have taken them on at all.

Now, despite the promise of the money which would leave him well able to pay of Jabba, he was beginning to regret his decision. It wasn't that he didn't _like_ Ani. They hadn't exactly gotten off to a great start, but the guy had earned Han's respect with that little chair stunt. It had been no picnic for him to stand there watching the kid get hacked to pieces. Han had seen worse, though, and he hadn't built a reputation as one of the best smugglers in the business by sticking his neck out when he didn't have to. He _was_ a smuggler, though. That's what he _did_. His job as to bring people the goods they wanted, whether the Empire wanted them to have it or not. He could handle spice shipments, illegal weapons, expensive liberated artifacts. He was good at those. He _wasn't_ good at flying a bunch of kids into a war with the Empire--a war they _obviously_ couldn't win.

Chewie lumbered into the cockpit and took the co-pilot's seat, growling a question at him. He turned sharply and shook his head. "Forget it. Nothing. It's not our problem."

Chewie whined in complaint. "Maybe it should be."

"Well, I don't care if it should be. It isn't. We gotta pay off Jabba remember? We do that and we're out of this mess. No looking back," Han reminded him.

Chewie gave him a hard look, which he returned with a glare. The Wookiee grumbled accusingly. "I thought you liked them."

"Yeah, but I like us better," Han replied. 


	82. The Path We Choose

Ani had roused from his healing trance by the time that the Falcon set down on Yavin 4. His father had come back into Han's quarters as soon as the captain informed them that they were nearing their destination, and though a return to full consciousness would mean greater awareness of pain, he wanted to be awake when they reached the Rebel Base. He had no idea how far they might have landed from the Massassi Temple which had become home to the Rebel Alliance, but at least if he were conscious, he wouldn't be quite as encumbering to the others on a trek through the jungle. Leia and Obi Wan were both convinced that the Empire had allowed them to escape for purposes of tracking them, and if they were right, the Death Star would not be far behind them. The fate of the Rebel Alliance now indeed hung in the balance, and whether he could be of help or not, the Jedi Knight wanted to witness that fate.

At the moment, however, it appeared that he was not likely to witness much of anything. Han had surprised everyone by coming back with them to his quarters after he'd set the ship down. He insisted on being the one to carry Ani, though he claimed that his only reason for doing this was the need for speed and circumspectness on a journey like the one they were about to undertake. Luke objected that since Ani was _his_ brother, he wanted to do the carrying himself. An argument broke out, with Han first insisting that it didn't matter whose brother Ani was; it mattered who could move the fastest while carrying him. Luke didn't care, and the debate suddenly moved from practical matters to whether or not the Kenobis trusted Han. The smuggler seemed to regard Luke's reluctance to accept his help as a evidence that the younger brother didn't trust him, and strangely enough, the notion offended him.

"And why exactly _should_ we trust you?" Luke demanded. "You're the one who keeps saying you're only in this for the money."

"Oh, I've only almost gotten myself killed here!" Han snapped back.

"Only because you couldn't avoid it!" retorted Luke.

"And?"

"And that doesn't do much to inspire my confidence," Luke told him.

"Oh, it doesn't? Well, let me tell you something, kid--"

"Um, guys? Excuse me," Ani cut in. "Could I say--"

"No!" both Han and Luke said together.

"Great…" he sighed.

The argument continued for several more minutes, prolonged by Leia, who felt the need to chime in with comments in support of her twin. Both Obi Wan and Ani tried to interrupt a few times, then both Jedi shared a look of quiet resignation and gave up. Finally, it was Chewie who put an end to the debate by shoving past Han and lifting Ani from the bunk himself. Then while the rest of the group were all still gaping in astonishment, the Wookiee calmly turned and carried him off the ship.

-----

For a moment, Padme couldn't breathe. An armored military speeder rolled to a stop in the hangar where she stood among Rebel personnel, and beings began to pile out of it, but all she saw was the white-clad figure of her daughter. Leia scrambled off the speeder and raced over to her, all her poise and elegance forgotten as she fell into her mother's embrace. They clung together, feeling nothing in that moment but the exquisite joy and relief of reunion. Padme's hands traveled upward, stroking the back of Leia's hair, and though she tried to speak, no words seemed enough. In the end, neither woman spoke until Padme drew back to cup her daughter's tear-stained face in her hands.

"Leia," she whispered.

"Mother…wait," Leia frowned, shaking her head in sudden confusion. "How did you get here?"

"Pooja and Uncle Bail brought us--"

_"Uncle Bail!"_ the cry came from all three of her children at once.

Startled, Padme abruptly realized that she and Leia were now encircled the rest of the speeder's passengers. Obi Wan, whose eyes were at once troubled and relieved,, though she had the ominous feeling that it wasn't Bail's presence which concerned him, Artoo and Threepio, Luke, a scruffy-looking stranger whom she could only assume was the pilot whose ship her family had chartered on Tatooine--and the floor dropped away under her at the sight of her oldest child in the arms of a Wookiee.

Obi Wan instantly moved to support her on the left, while Leia grabbed her right arm, but she hastily regained her balance and pulled away from them to rush toward Ani. The Wookiee gave a soft, sympathetic whine and bent lower to let her touch him. Through a sparkling haze of tears, Padme laid her hands on her son's face.

"Oh, Anakin. My _Anakin!"_ she whispered brokenly. His skin was flushed with fever, and she could feel him trembling with pain and exhaustion.

"Mom, is Isaly here?" he asked urgently. "Is she all right?"

Padme blinked at the question, needing a moment to comprehend, and then she weakly nodded. "She's in labor, Ani. I was with her we heard that you were on the way. Pooja's there now."

"Wh--where's Shmi?" he frowned.

"Uncle Bail had her with him…" Padme trailed off as Luke suddenly sprinted away from the group. Turning to follow him with her eyes, she saw Bail and Shmi come into view at the other end of the hangar. Obi Wan, Leia and the pilot had closed ranks around Ani by then, and Luke quickly swept his niece into his arms, carrying her back into the hall.

Padme closed her eyes, and felt her daughter's arm encircle her shoulders. She drew in a ragged breath, but as soon as Leia began to speak, she determinedly reigned in her emotions. The Rebel Princess turned her attention to the Alliance forces around them as Bail jogged up to them.

"We have little time for our sorrows, _or_ our joys, I'm afraid. Commander, the battle station has surely tracked us here," she said with a pointed glance at the freighter captain behind her. "It's the only explanation for the ease of our escape. You must use the information in this R2 unit to plan the attack. It is our only hope."

-----

Obi Wan and Luke stood in the observation room outside the base's surgical theatre, watching in tense silence as a team of med droids fit Ani with a new hand, arm, and legs. A few rooms away, Isaly was giving birth to her twins, and Obi Wan couldn't help but think of the last time he had stood in a room like this. Then, it had been Padme in the theatre, and _their_ twins had been about to be born. Despite the fact that Padme had been in danger of losing her life, the situation seemed no less grave to him now.

He could sense Luke's continued guilt over what had happened and reached out to give the boy's shoulder a squeeze. Luke stood with his head resting on his forearm against the transparisteel window, not acknowledging the contact at all. Lowering his head, Obi Wan carefully considered his words.

After a few more minutes of silence, he asked quietly, "What do you think Ani would say right now if he were watching with us?"

"That it wasn't my fault. That there was nothing I could have done anyway," Luke replied.

"You don't believe that?" Obi Wan asked.

"I don't know. I can't stop seeing it. Seeing that lightsaber come toward you--we thought you were gonna die, Dad," his voice broke on the statement. "Then Ani jumped in the way before I could even move. I just…"

Obi Wan felt him shudder and slid his hand silently off the boy's shoulder, drawing him into a hug. Luke didn't resist, but didn't say anything either. They stood that way for a while, and Obi Wan could still feel the conflict in his son.

"You must let it go, son," he said finally.

"I don't think I can," Luke replied.

"Luke, guilt and self recrimination are as much a path to the Dark Side as fear. They all lead to the same place, to anger and then to hatred. Whether hatred of self or others, the result is the same," the Jedi Master said.

"I know. Dad, maybe…maybe I'm just not cut out to be a Jedi," Luke sighed.

"What?"

"Well, you said yourself that my destiny lies along a different path from yours," Luke pointed out.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you can't be a Jedi," Obi Wan replied.

"I just don't know anymore," Luke shook his head.

"You must do what you feel is right, of course," Obi Wan said slowly.

"That's it?" Luke looked at him in surprise.

Obi Wan raised his eyebrows. "Well, what did you expect?"

"I don't know. You're--you're not gonna argue with me?" Luke frowned.

"I told you long ago that the decision was yours. That hasn't changed. It won't change, " his father promised.

Luke started to say more, but before he could speak, the door slid open behind them. Obi Wan turned to see Bail Organa poke his head through the open doorway. Shmi was still with him, so he wouldn't actually come inside, but he asked, "How is it going?"

"They've just begun working on the legs," Obi Wan heard himself say. No amount of Jedi training on perception and reality could make those words seem anything other than alien, entirely surreal even as he said them.

Bail nodded slowly. "Luke, the data that Artoo was carrying has been analyzed. The attack briefing is due to start in twenty minutes."

"Okay. Thanks, Uncle Bail," Luke said, finally pulling himself away from the window. "I'll bring Little One with me--I mean, if it's all right."

"She's become something of a pet with the other pilots already. I don't think anyone will object under the circumstances," Bail smiled.

Luke dipped his head, a trace of a smile forming on his lips. "Dad, I'll try to get in to see Ani before we go out. If I can't…"

"I'll tell him," Obi Wan promised

"Is Leia still in the delivery room?" Bail asked. "She'll need to be there as well."

"She said she would come and find us when the twins were here. Since she hasn't, I assume she's still there," said Obi Wan.

"All right, then I'll find her," Bail said, slipping back out into the hall. Luke followed, and in the seconds before the door hissed to a close again, Obi Wan heard his granddaughter's voice.

"Uncle, Luke, I want my daddy!" she cried.

Then the door sealed itself, and there was silence. Alone in the shadow filled room, where the only illumination came from the harsh, glaring white lights of the operating room, Obi Wan slumped against the ancient stone wall and buried his face in his hands. He wept for the horror that had been done to his firstborn. He wept for the brutality with which Luke's innocence had been ripped away, knowing that the carefree boy that his younger son had been would now be gone forever. He wept for the daughter that he and Padme now hardly knew, who was now struggling to find her place in the family she had left behind and yet still honor the father who raised her. He wept for the galaxy in which his granddaughter would have to live if the Rebellion foundered today, if his children could not or would not take up the legacy of the Jedi Order. The Jedi in him recognized that dwelling on possibilities would only cloud his mind and distract him, but the parent and grandparent that he had become had learned that nothing he had done in the name of _principles_ mattered half so much as the war he had fought for his family. He could put aside concerns for the future when he had to, because he was still a Jedi, but he had never been more keenly aware that this was not merely a fight for democracy or a battle between light and dark. From the very first, from the moment he had known of Ani's existence, the war he was fighting had been a war for the future--his children's, and now his grandchildren's. He wept also for the burdens that had been so unfairly placed on each of them. Ani had never really had a childhood, and though Luke and Leia had, both of them had been saddled with duties and responsibilities far beyond those of their peers. Finally, though, he wept for Ani's unshakable faith in his uncle. Though as a Jedi, Ani's commitment to destroying the Sith was as complete and unswerving as his father's, though he acknowledged and accepted the likelihood that he would have to kill Darth Vader, he had never surrendered the hope that Anakin still existed somewhere beneath Vader's armor--and Obi Wan wept because he knew without question that he now owed his son's life to Anakin Skywalker for the third time.


	83. Where We Belong

Leia hung back by the wall as she and her mother entered the delivery room. Pooja Naberrie, a young woman she had known as both friend and colleague, whose name at least, she now recognized as belonging to her cousin, stood beside the delivery table where Anakin's wife was struggling through the birth of her twins. Padme started toward them and paused, turning toward Leia to offer her hand. She forced herself to take it, joining her family at the table. Shyness was not characteristic of the Princess, however, the circumstances in which she found herself where strange and unnerving. She had, however, been trained not to allow circumstances to keep her off balance.

"Mom? Is Anakin all right?" Isaly asked

"He was injured, Isaly," Padme replied. "He'll be all right.

"Injured? How badly?" she frowned worriedly.

"He'll be all right," Padme repeated, laying her hand on the younger woman's forehead. There wasn't the slightest tremor in her voice as she continued, "This is…"

"Leia," Isaly smiled, offering her hand to her sister-in-law.

Leia took it, returning the smile warmly. It seemed a strange way to meet her brother's wife, especially since there was a part of her that inwardly cringed at the thought of where Ani was now. She knew that her mother's response had been the right one, though. Isaly needed to concentrate on the delivery, and knowing how badly Ani had truly been hurt would be a dangerous strain on her.

"Ani talks about you all the time--" Isaly started to say. Her statement was cut off by a cry of pain as another contraction began. All four women's attention quickly returned to the arrival of the twins. The med-droids handled most of Isaly's physical needs, but the birth was not an easy one, leaving much for her family to do in the way of support an encouragement.

Each time that Isaly cried out for Ani, Leia felt the plea stab through her own heart. She hardly knew the man that her brother had become, but from what little she had seen, it was already obvious how much this young couple cared for one another. Isaly was going to be devastated when she learned the truth of what had happened to him.

Each cry burned through Leia's mind, igniting a hot echo of her own anguish as she'd watched her brother fall. It hurt more knowing exactly _where_ Ani was and why he couldn't be here to help his struggling wife. She pushed these thoughts aside though, and focused on mopping Isaly's face and forehead or otherwise trying to make her more comfortable while Padme and Pooja encouraged her to push and kept a firm grip on either hand.

The air around them was thick with tension. The Force resonated with the women's pain and worry, anticipation and hope. Finally, Leia sensed a tremor, then a rush of energy which, though she had never felt its like before, was unmistakable. With tears in her eyes, she turned toward the droids.

"It's a boy," one of them announced.

Isaly fell back against the pillows, closing her eyes with a long, relieved sigh. Padme leaned over and kissed her forehead gently, encouraging, "We're almost done now, honey. A few more minutes and we'll have his brother."

Isaly turned tiredly toward Leia. "I want to see him."

Leia nodded, then walked down to the end of the table, where a few minutes later, a droid presented her with the tiny, swaddled form of her infant nephew. He looked back at her with a gaze eerily steady for an infant, and she felt another stirring in the Force, something that was almost…recognition.

She took in a breath and carried him over to his mother, holding him so that Isaly could see and touch him. The young mother gave a breathless laugh and tearfully reached to touch his forehead with the tips of her fingers. Watching, Leia felt warm tears begin to spill down her own cheeks.

"Obi-Wan," Isaly said in a trembling voice. "Ani wanted to name him…after Dad."

"Brothers," Padme said with a sudden frown. Another contraction came before Leia could inquire, and she stepped back, cradling the newborn Obi-Wan in her arms. Several minutes later, the droids announced the arrival of his brother, and Pooja walked over to bring him to his mother.

Padme and Isaly shared a long look. Then she reached out her hand again, brushing the younger twin's forehead gently. She nodded, seeming suddenly to make a decision. "His name is Anakin."

The significance of those names was not lost on Leia. Her throat tightened as she considered that, in finding her family again, she had very nearly witnessed the deaths of these children's namesakes. That family was more than she had left behind on Tatooine, and she had wondered whether she truly had a place in it anymore. Now it was the birth of these twins which had allowed her to see that, although her destiny might be tied to Alderaan and the Organas, the Kenobis were and always had been part of who she was…

Her thoughts trailed off as the door suddenly slid part-way open. Her father--_uncle_, she corrected herself--stuck his head through the opening, and a meaningful glance in her direction was all it took to tell Leia what he'd come for. She quickly shifted Obi-Wan into her mother's waiting arms and then bent to kiss Isaly's forehead.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she said, hurrying toward the door.

Bail slipped out into the hallway again, and Leia followed him out. He rested his hand on her shoulders, automatically drawing her into a hug. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Twin boys," she nodded. "Isaly's doing fine."

"And you?" he asked, pulling back to look into her eyes.

She nodded.

"Good," he said quietly. "The plans have been analyzed. The briefing is due to start in twenty minutes."

"Thank you," Leia said, giving his hand a squeeze before she strode up the hall.

He returned the gesture, holding onto her fingers for a few seconds as she moved away. Then he gently released her, letting the touch slip away, but Leia knew that he understood exactly what she had been thanking him for and why.

------

Padme slipped silently into the observation room, and Obi Wan turned away from the window, automatically reaching to take her in his arms. Her own arms wound desperately around him, and as they embraced, she felt a need in him that was beyond passion, beyond all the unspoken fears of the past several days or of what lay ahead of them. They stood that way for several minutes, simply enfolded in each other, allowing the moment to flow around them and steady them, resting in one another until both were ready to move again.

"Is she all right?" Obi Wan whispered, his hands slowly moving up and down her arms in an effort to soothe her trembling.

Padme nodded, still not speaking. Swallowing convulsively, she hid her face against his chest, fearing that if she spoke at all yet, she would lose what remained of her self-control. Alone with him like this, she could allow a moment or two for personal pain and fear, but she knew that if she completely gave those emotions reign, she might not be able to regain her composure before they would be required to join their friends and family once more.

"The twins?" he murmured.

Another nod.

"Thank the Force," he whispered.

She felt him rest his cheek against her hair, and she closed her eyes, simply waiting. She knew that they would have to talk about Ani, but she couldn't bring herself to start that conversation. When he spoke, though, it wasn't there son that he was concerned about.

"And you?" he asked meaningfully.

She took a breath, managing shakily, "I--Obi Wan, I couldn't tell her. She asked how he was, and I--couldn't."

"Of course you couldn't, darling," he nodded.

"If even she hadn't been in labor, I don't think I could've," Padme told him.

"Padme," he promised softly. "It wasn't your fault."

"I told him to stay with you!" she wept. "I told him, _"Whatever happens, stay with Dad."_

"I know," he whispered.

"Then how can you say it wasn't my fault?" she shook her head slowly in dismay.

"I told him to stay with Luke. Our son is a Jedi Knight. He made a choice," said Obi Wan.

"But--" she started to protest.

"Look," Obi Wan said, turning back toward the window where, in a pool of harsh white light they could see the droids finishing their work on Ani. "He made a choice, Padme. Neither you nor I were responsible. Now we must honor that choice."

-----

Okay, you guys are now officially up to date. I just posted this chapter on Livejournal last night. Aruna will be in Germany over the next few weeks, and I have some real life stuff that needs doing by the 11th of July. So, we'll be taking a brief hiatus, but I will try to finish and post the rest of ANH by the end of the month. We'd like to give our appreciation and thanks to everyone who has stuck with us this long, and we hope you will continue to enjoy One Path over the summer.

Lionchilde and Aruna7


	84. Family and Friends

Luke bent to pick up Shmi as they entered the bustling hangar. Artoo and Threepio followed along behind them, and Shmi clung to his neck, suddenly nervous amid the clamor of pilots preparing for battle. Her senses were attuned enough to have picked up the fear and grim determination of the Rebels, and having just sat in on the attack briefing with himself and Wedge, she had seen the scope of the battle station that was bearing down on Yavin 4.

"Aunt Leia said she'd meet us by my ship," he explained, glancing around at the flight crews who were rushing to load fighters and unlock power couplings. As he did, he caught sight of Han and Chewie, who were loading their booty onto an armored speeder, apparently headed back to the Falcon.

He turned in their direction, feeling his chest grow heavy as Han continued to pointedly ignore the activity in the hangar. The PA system came on and a booming voice called for all flight troops to man their stations. Shmi frowned curiously from him to Han but didn't say anything.

"So...you got your reward and you're just leaving then?" Luke asked.

"That's right, yeah! I got some old debts I've got to pay off with this stuff. Even if I didn't, you don't think I'd be fool enough to stick around here, do you? Why don't you come with us? You're pretty  
good in a fight. I could use you," offered the mercenary, still working to load the speeder.

"Come on! You expect me to just walk away? Turn my back after what happened to Ani?" Luke exclaimed.

"Going up there ain't gonna help your brother, kid," Han shook his head.

"Why don't you try telling that to his daughter," challenged Luke.

Han spun around, a momentary expression of shock on his face at the sight of the little girl in Luke's arms. Then his eyes features hardened, and he squared his jaw, turning his attention back to the speeder he and Chewie were loading.

"Sorry, kid," he muttered. "This is your family's fight. It ain't mine."

"Why don't you take a look around?" Luke waved his free arm. "You know what's about to happen, what we're up against. We could use a good pilot like you."

"What good's a reward if you ain't around to use it? Besides, attacking that battle station ain't my idea of courage. It's more like suicide!"

"All right. Well, take care of yourself, Han. I guess that's what you're best at, isn't it? C'mon, Little One, let's find Aunt Leia," Luke shook his head. He turned away, starting off toward his ship, but the smuggler called him back.

"Hey Luke!" he said with slight hesitation. "May the Force be with you."

Luke turned in time to see his friend wink, which he returned with a small wave, and then hurried off to find his sister. Making his way through the hangar, he met up with her, Bail, and Jan Dodonna under his starfighter.

"What's wrong?" Leia asked as he let Shmi slide to the ground.

"Oh, it's Han! I don't know, I really thought he'd change his mind," Luke told her.

"He's got to follow his own path. No one can choose it for him," Leia reminded him.

"I just wish Ani were coming," Luke sighed.

She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, and he pulled her close for a moment. His mind was crowded with half finished thoughts, all of which seemed inadequate to express the relief and comfort he drew from her presence, the new experience of solidarity and unity in common purpose with this person who had been the missing half of himself for so long. Her arms tightened, telling him silently that she understood, and then she drew away, turning to their niece.

Leia and Shmi stood contemplating one another for several seconds, then the princess crouched in front of the little girl. "You must be getting tired of being passed around from relative to relative."

"I want my daddy," Shmi replied.

Leia nodded, "I know."

Standing again, she offered the girl her hand. Slowly, Shmi reached to take it, and the two of them looked back toward Luke, and she smiled, "May the Force be with you, Uncle Luke."

"Thanks," Luke smiled, caressing her cheek with the side of his index finger. Bail clapped him lightly on the shoulder, and then he, Leia, Shmi and Dodonna hurried off. Luke watched them for a second, then started toward the ladder that would take him to the starfighter's cockpit. As he did, another pilot rushed up, grabbing him by the arm.

"Luke! Luke, I don't believe it! Are you going out with us?"

"Biggs!" he exclaimed, grinning at the sight of his old friend. "Of course, I'll be up there with you…"

"I heard about Ani, Luke. People are still talking about how he came in. Is he all right?"

"He will be," Luke nodded. "Thanks, Biggs. Listen, have I got some stories to tell…"

-----

The stark white room into which Isaly and the twins had been moved after delivery was little more than a cubicle, set off from the main infirmary by curtains and a moveable partition. Pooja was with her, since Obi Wan had gone to the hangar to see Luke off while Padme waited in the main infirmary for Ani to be recovered enough to see his family. She had just finished nursing the twins and was holding little Anakin while Pooja sat beside the bed with his brother.

By then, her family had explained exactly what had happened to Ani on the Death Star, and she thought that she was prepared, but when the curtain fluttered and moved back to reveal her husband, she felt herself beginning to shake. Hot tears flooded her eyes, and little Anakin and Obi-Wan immediately began to pick up their mother's distress. His arms and legs _appeared_ completely normal. The hands looked like _hands_ and not the chilling metal appendage he'd described his uncle as having. That didn't matter, though. He slowly crossed the room, and she had to force herself not to flinch away as he caressed her cheek with a cold, inhuman finger.

"Isaly, it's all right," he said softly, his voice breaking on his own tears.

"I'm sorry--" she began, horrified to realize that he could sense her discomfort. Of course he could. It wasn't _him_ that made her stomach clench, though--not Ani. It was the horrible thing that had been _done_ to him, and the hands were now a permanent, glaring reminder of the pain and betrayal he'd suffered. They were monstrous to her not just because they were physically cold but because of _who_ had wounded him and why. He let his hand fall away, and she forced back her tears as he leaned forward to kiss her lips.

"It's all right," he repeated.

"This is Anakin," she offered, biting her lip. By then, Padme had stepped into the room as well, and the two mothers shared a smile while Ani bent to brush the baby's soft head with his lips.

"Hello, son," he whispered. Then he turned, offering a quiet smile of greeting to his cousin before he lifted little Anakin's brother from her arms. "Obi-Wan."

------

Obi Wan spotted Luke standing under one of the X-Wings. He immediately recognized one of the men with him as Biggs Darklighter. The other was older, and carried himself with the confident and reassuringly authoritative bearing of a squadron commander. The loudspeaker overhead was issuing a stream off commands as Obi Wan approached, and the officer hurried off to his own ship.

"Hello, sir," Biggs said with a nod.

"Biggs," the Jedi Master replied, then frowned toward his son. "Luke, where's Little One?"

"Leia took her. Uncle Bail and General Dodonna were with her. I think they were going to the war room--"

"Sorry to cut this short, but I've got to get aboard. Listen, Luke, you'll tell me your stories when we come back. All right?" Biggs interrupted.

"I told you I'd make it someday, Biggs," Luke reminded his friend.

"You did, all right. It's going to be like old times, Luke. We're a couple of shooting stars that'll never be stopped!"

Luke laughed and nodded in agreement, then turned to his father as Biggs raced off toward his own fighter. Obi Wan smiled gently and clasped his shoulder. "I told you that your day would come, son."

"Yessir," Luke nodded, but his father sensed a sudden flux of ambivalence.

"Luke, this is what _you_ want to do? You don't _have_ to go up there. You don't have to do it for your brother or for me. Only go because you're _choosing_ to go," he said.

"It is what I want," Luke assured him. "It's just--there's so much at stake. If we fail…"

"Don't even consider it," Obi Wan shook his head. "Focus on the moment. Until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction."

"I know," Luke nodded. "Dad, tell Ani--"

The statement was cut off by a voice on the loudspeaker, again ordering pilots to their ships. Obi Wan gave Luke's shoulder a squeeze. "He knows. Go on."

With another nod, Luke turned away and scrambled up the ladder into the fighter's cockpit. As he went, the crew chief at work on the craft pointed to Artoo, who was being hoisted into a socket on the back of the ship. "This R2 unit of your seems a bit beat up. Do you want a new one?"

"Not on your life! That little droid and I have been through a lot together. You okay, Artoo?" Luke asked the droid.

The crewmen lowered Artoo into the gleaming X-Wing. Now a part of the exterior shell of the starship, the little droid beeped an affirmative. Threepio and Obi Wan looked on from the floor as Luke swung into the cockpit and donned his helmet. For the first time, Obi Wan understood what it must have been like for Padme during the Clone Wars, forced to wait and hope while he rocketed through energy-riddled spatial battlefields in a starfighter only a little different from the one their son now manned.

"Hang on tight, Artoo, you've got to come back!" called Threepio.

The little astromech beeped in agreement.

"You wouldn't want my life to get boring, would you?" Threepio asked.

Artoo whistled a reply, and then the final preparations for launch began. As Obi Wan watched, a coupling hose was disconnected from Luke's ship, which was now fueled and ready. The cockpit shield rolled smoothly into place over him, and he leaned forward, adjusting the ship's com to the proper frequency and testing the signal. Then he leaned back again, and Obi Wan saw a touch of a smile appear on the boy's face as he peered about through the amber tint of his helmet's protective visor. It was a smile that reflected the grimly proud one that his father allowed to touch his lips.

_Luke, the Force will be with you,_ he called silently.

-----

Even in the infirmary, the Kenobis could hear the booming orders over the PA systems, the increasingly dire warnings of the Death Star's imminent arrival. Tense silence fell over them as they listened, their eyes moving silently from one face to another. Ani and Isaly quietly kept their focus on the twins, but suddenly Isaly looked up with a frown.

"Luke will be getting ready to launch by now. Little One was with him," she said.

"Dad probably took her. He'll be in the war room," Padme spoke up.

"I'll get her," Ani said, quickly shifting young Obi-Wan into Pooja's waiting arms.

"I'll go with you; I should be there," Padme said.

Ani nodded, turning to follow his mother out into the main infirmary. He had just reached the curtain and was reaching to push it aside when Isaly called him back. Half turning, he gave her a smile that he hoped was reassuring.

"I love you," she smiled back.

"I know," he replied, even managing to muster a wink before he ducked through the curtain.

Neither he nor his mother needed the warnings being broadcast over the loudspeakers. They could feel the Death Star's approach, and the menace of the Sith Lord aboard it. Ani was not surprised to feel his touch in his mind again, but he closed his eyes, his jaw tightening reflexively at the presence which was at once familiar and chilling.

_Ani, come with me,_ Vader offered without preamble.

_I can't do that,_ he replied.

_There is still time to have a shuttle sent for you,_ Vader said.

_Only if you were flying it, Uncle Anakin,_ Ani's lips flickered upward in a brief, pained smile. _No one else could cut it that close._

_Then I will come for you,_ Vader told him.

_I can't go with you,_ he repeated.

_You are forcing me to kill you!_ Vader said with sudden intensity.

_No, I'm not. The choice has always been yours. Uncle, please. There are innocent people down here,_ Ani entreated.

_Traitors,_ pronounced Vader.

_You have to know that isn't true,_ Ani said. He had stopped walking by now, and Padme turned questioningly from the end of the corridor. She slowly walked back, a frown of concern shifting into a tight, pinched expression of understanding as he reached to clasp her hand.

_Ani, I won't ask again,_ Vader said icily.

_I'm sorry, Uncle. I am a Jedi Knight and the son of Padme Amidala Kenobi. My allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy, and I will do everything I can to see Palpatine's tyranny ended. If that makes me a traitor, then you do what you have to do,_ Ani replied calmly.

Vader made no response for several heartbeats. Ani stood waiting, preparing himself to accept whatever came as the will of the Force. Yet when Vader spoke again, the words struck him like a physical blow.

_So be it._


	85. Paths Converge

Padme and Ani slipped into the darkened war room and threaded their way past computer tables and blue-green star maps to find Leia, Bail, and Obi Wan ranged around a huge, round tactical display table. Threepio and General Dodonna stood with them. Shmi was in her grandfather's arms, but she wriggled down and darted toward Ani, who dropped onto one knee to embrace her. With a faint smile, Padme edged past them to stand between her husband and daughter. Bail stood on Leia's immediate right, and he leaned forward to meet Padme's gaze with a tense nod of acknowledgement. Leia's hand slipped downward to link with hers, and Ani stepped up beside his father, quietly shifting Shmi so that he could hold her comfortably with one arm.

"Stand by alert. Death Star approaching. Estimated time to firing range, fifteen minutes."

On the screen below them, a red wedge appeared, emanating from the menacing circle of the Death Star. Rebel fighters came next, but the tiny green dots that represented them seemed ineffectual and pointless beside the massive imperial battle station. Padme pressed a hand to her lips as the ship-to-ship communications began to filter over the comm system. Gold squadron ran through role first, then Padme forced herself to breathe when the command came from Red Leader.

_"All wings report in."_

Voices crackled in over their headset speakers one after the other. Some she recognized as pilots she'd met since arriving with Bail and Pooja. Others she didn't. All had taken on a new importance to her. These were Luke's wingmates, the men who would share the risk of imminent death with him, be responsible for his life, and he for theirs, over the course of the battle.

_"Red Ten standing by."_

"Red Seven standing by."

"Red Three standing by."

Biggs, Padme realized. There was a measure of comfort in knowing that Luke's lifelong friend and companion would be flying with him. It also gave her another reason to worry. Now, there were two young men up there who had eaten at her table, and this time they weren't playing daredevil games in Beggar's Canyon. Obi Wan's fingers brushed the back of her hand, and she turned her wrist to take his hand as Jek Porkins continued the role.

_"Red Six standing by."_

"Red Nine standing by."

"Red Two standing by."

"Wedge!" Shmi exclaimed.

"Who?" asked Ani, and Padme turned to see a frown crease her son's forehead.

"Uncle Luke's friend," she explained as the pilots finished their report.

_"Red Eleven standing by."_

"Red Five standing by."

A chill went up Padme's spine at the sound of her son's voice. Until she actually heard it, the fact that he was up there, flying an X-Wing fighter in a desperate attempt to destroy a mammoth battle station, had been vaguely unreal to her. With that single sentence, all pretense was stripped away.

"Uncle!" her granddaughter exclaimed.

"Your uncle is a Rebel pilot today, Little One. Remember it," Ani told her.

_"Lock S-foils in attack position," _commanded Red Leader.

Padme stole a glance at her husband. How many times had he heard that order issued among clone troops during the war? How many times might he have, in fact, given it? She was sure that in all that time, he never would have imagined that one of their children would be hearing it today. His face betrayed no worry though, only the same calmly intent expression worn by General Dodonna. The last of Ben Kenobi was gone now; this was the face of a Jedi Master and a seasoned war veteran.

_"We're passing through their magnetic field. Hold tight!"_ Red Leader's voice said. _"Switch your deflectors on. Double front."_

"Look at the size of that thing!" cried Wedge.

_"Cut the chatter, Red Two,"_ his commander ordered. _"Accelerate to attack speed. This is it, boys!"_

"Red Leader, this is Gold Leader."

"I copy, Gold Leader."

"We're starting for the target shaft now," Gold Leader relayed.

_"We're in position. I'm going to cut across the axis and try and draw their fire,"_ replied Red Leader.

_"Heavy fire, boss! Twenty-degrees,"_ warned Wedge.

_"I see it. Stay low,"_ his commander acknowledged.

The jumble of comm chatter came in so fast that Padme found it difficult to follow. To her it was a series of staccato bursts over an intercom. To the young men up there, though, it was the lifeline between each of them and their comrades. Tension began to mount in the war room now as well, and none of the Kenobis had any trouble grasping the next statement that filtered through to them.

_"This is Red Five; I'm going in!"_

The unmistakable sound of Imperial cannons came back to them even over the static-filled comm channel. Padme sucked in a breath. Leia's fingers tightened on hers, and she saw Ani's free hand grip the edge of the table in front of them. Then there was nothing for several seconds, until Biggs cried out frantically.

_"Luke, pull up!"_

"Uncle Luke…" Shmi whimpered, biting her lip.

"He'll be okay," Ani murmured, though the clash of emotion Padme felt from him was anything but certain. More than anything, her oldest son wanted to be out there with his brother. He and Luke had been together from the day that the younger boy was born. Luke had never in trouble unless Ani had been there to bail him out. Here Ani was helpless--worse than that, Padme realized--he felt _useless._

_"Are you all right?"_ Biggs asked.

_"I got a little cooked, but I'm okay,"_ replied Luke.

All of them breathed a sigh of relief. It didn't last long, though. The battle went relentlessly on, caring not a whit about the powerless audience in the war room of Massassi Station. Obi Wan felt a shift in the current of the Force and turned his head briefly to catch his elder son's eye. Ani gave him a barely perceptible nod. Something was wrong.

_"Luke, let me know when you're going in,"_ said Red Leader, a man that Obi Wan now recognized as Garven Dreis, who had flown with Anakin Skywalker during the battle of Virujansi.

_"I'm on my way in now,"_ Luke said.

_"Watch yourself! There's a lot of fire coming from the right side of that deflection tower," _Dreis told him.

_"I'm on it,"_ Luke replied.

_Luke, trust your feelings,_ his father told him silently.

_What? Dad…?_

"Squad leaders, we've picked up a new group of signals. Enemy fighters coming your way," spoke up the Control Officer behind him.

_"My scope's negative. I don't see anything,"_ Luke reported in confusion.

_"Keep up your visual scanning. With all this jamming, they'll be on top of you before your scope can pick them up," _Dreis advised. Then, bare seconds later, he warned, _"Biggs! You've picked one up. Watch it!"_

"I can't see it! Where is he?!" cried Biggs in a panic. _"He's on me tight, I can't shake him."_

"I'll be right there," Luke told him.

Luke managed to pick off the fighter tailing Biggs, but in the process he left himself open to enemy attack. The comm chatter became frantic as his wingmates called warnings. Obi Wan could feel Leia's growing fear for her brother, though she struggled to maintain her composure. He leaned forward to catch her eye, giving her a calming smile.

_"Pull in! Luke, pull in!"_ urged Biggs.

_"Watch your back, Luke! Watch your back! Fighter's above you, coming in!"_ added Wedge.

_"I'm hit, but not bad. Artoo, see what you can do with it. Hang on back there!"_ Luke told the droid.

_"Red six, can you see Red Five?"_ Dreis asked.

_"There's a heavy fire zone on this side. Red Five, where are you?"_

_"I can't shake him!"_ Luke exclaimed.

_"I'm on him, Luke! Hold on!"_ urged Biggs.

_"Blast it, Biggs, where are you?"_ Luke demanded. In the tense silence of the seconds that followed, his family could only wait. No one breathed until his voice came over the speakers again. _"Thanks, Wedge."_

"Good shooting, Wedge!" congratulated Biggs.

Again, though, there was little time for celebration. With the Death Star still closing, the two fighter squadrons still had a job to do, and Gold Squadron still had to reach the trench that was their only access point to the exhaust port where their proton torpedoes had to be delivered. Almost as soon as Luke was clear, Obi Wan heard Gold Leader.

_"Red Leader, this is Gold Leader. We're starting our attack run."_

"I copy, Gold Leader. Move into position."

"They're not going to make it," Ani spoke up softly, his tone full of dread.

"What?" Leia stared at her older brother in dismay.

_"The exhaust post is...marked and locked in,"_ Gold Leader reported. _"Switch power to front deflector screens. How many guns do you think, Gold Five?"_

"I'd say about twenty guns. Some on the surface, some on the towers," replied Gold Five.

"He's out there," Ani told his sister.

"Who?" she frowned.

_"Switching to targeting computer."_

"Computer's locked. Getting a signal… The guns! They've stopped!" exclaimed Gold Two.

"Vader," Ani replied.

_"Stabilize your rear deflectors. Watch for enemy fighters,"_ Gold Five advised.

_"They're coming in! Three marks at two ten!"_ reported Gold Leader, who was in the process of making the attack run. A few more seconds passed and he cried out in a panic, _"I can't maneuver!"_

"Stay on target," came the calmly authoritative reply of Gold Five, another old veteran now trying to calm his CO.

_"We're too close!" _Gold Leader exclaimed.

_"Stay on target!"_ repeated Gold Five.

_"Loosen up!"_ barked Gold Leader.

Then there was nothing but a burst of static and interference. It cleared into the garbled voice of Gold Five. _"Gold Five to Red Leader. Lost Tiree, lost Dutch."_

"I copy, Gold Five," replied Dreis.

_"They came from behind--" _the report was cut off by another loud burst of static.

_"Red boys, this is Red Leader,"_ the voice of Garven Dreis filled in the gap without hesitation. Red Squadron had been assigned to act as cover for the Gold group whose job it was supposed to have been to actually deliver the torpedo. With all of them gone, however, it would be up to Red Squadron to destroy the Death Star. _"Rendezvous at mark six-point-one."_

"This is Red Two. Flying toward you," acknowledged Wedge.

_"Red Three, standing by,"_ Biggs added.

"Have them divide the squadron," Bail spoke up suddenly.

Dodonna's eyes met his and the general quickly moved around the table, nodding agreement. Keying the ground-to-ship comm, he quickly said, "Red Leader, this is Base One. Keep half your  
group out of range for the next run."

_"Copy, Base One. Luke, take Red Two and Three. Hold up here and wait for my signal...to start your run," _Dreis directed.

Obi Wan felt Padme's hand tighten on his again. Now, even the Jedi Master's composure began to slip. Utter silence fell over the room as Dreis began his run. Another glance at Ani was all he needed. His son's eyes were shut tight in concentration, and he felt the Knight reach out through the Force in a last-ditch appeal to the man who had been Anakin Skywalker. That appeal fell on deaf ears.

_"This is it,"_ Dreis announced.

_"We should be able to see it by now,"_said a dismayed Red Ten.

_"Keep your eyes open for those fighters!"_ Dreis reminded him.

_"There's too much interference,"_ he replied. _"Red Five, can you see them from where you are?"_

_"No sign of any...wait! Coming in point-three-five,"_ Luke told him.

_"I see them."_

"I'm in range," Red Leader said. _"Target's coming up…just hold them off for a few seconds."_

"We just lost Red Twelve. You'd better let her loose," advised Red Ten.

_"Almost…there…!"_

"I can't hold them!" Red Ten cried. Seconds later, a scream of anguish filled the war room as the young pilot's fighter burst into flames. Through the resulting static, they heard Dreis call out.

_"It's away!"_

"It's a hit!" exclaimed Red Nine.

_"Negative," _reported Dreis. _"Negative! It didn't go in. It just impacted on the surface."_

The ripple of elation that passed through the room immediately dissipated into worried gloom. The next voice they heard was Luke's, but it did nothing to lighten the mood. _"Red Leader, we're right above you. Turn to point…oh-five. We'll cover for you."_

_"Stay there,"_ Dreis told them. _"I just lost my starboard engine. Get set up to make your attack run."_

It was the last thing Garven Dreis ever said. There was a horrific scream, followed by another burst of static, and Obi Wan closed his eyes. Most of the people in the room with him had no idea who Darth Vader was. If they had known, they probably would not have realized or remember that Red Leader had once fought alongside of Anakin Skywalker. Even Ani didn't know that, though he picked up his father's distress and shot him a questioning look. Obi Wan could only shake his head.

_"Biggs, Wedge, let's close it up. We're going in. We're going in full throttle. That ought to keep those fighters off our backs,"_ Luke told his wingmates.

_"Right with you, boss,"_ Wedge responded.

_"Luke, at that speed, will you be able to pull out in time?"_ Biggs asked.

_"It'll be just like Beggar's Canyon back home,"_ replied Luke.

_"We'll stay back far enough to cover you,"_ Biggs told him.

_"My scope shows the tower, but I can't see the exhaust port! Are you sure the computer can hit it?"_ asked Wedge.

_"Watch yourself!" _Luke barked. _"Increase speed full throttle!"_

_"What about that tower?" _Wedge asked.

_"You worry about those fighters. I'll worry about the tower," _Luke assured him. Even from here, though, Obi Wan could feel his rising tension and anxiety. A few seconds later, he was hit again and said, _"Artoo...that, that stabilizer's broken loose again! See if you can't lock it down!"_

"I'm hit!" Wedge cried suddenly. _"I can't stay with you."_

"Get clear, Wedge, you can't do anymore good back there," Luke told him.

_"Sorry!"_

Ani let out a frustrated breath. As Obi Wan turned to look at him, Shmi hid her face against his shoulder, whimpering softly. He reached up to stroke her hair comfortingly, and in another instant, his emotions once again reflected the serene and accepting mindset of a Jedi Knight.

_"Hurry, Luke, they're coming in much faster this time. I can't hold them!"_ warned Biggs.

_"Artoo, try and increase the power," _Luke urged.

_"Hurry up, Luke--wait--"_

"Biggs!" Shmi's head shot up from her father's shoulder. Obi Wan closed his eyes, feeling the fighter's explosion almost as keenly as if its pilot had been his own son. From Luke, he now sensed shock and disbelief. On the heels of it came anger.

_Use the Force, Luke,_ he called.

His son's feelings remained implacable. He made no response, though his X-Wing continued charging down the trench toward the exhaust port . The gathering of Alliance command staff began exchanging worried looks. Leia caught his eyes again, this time with a distinct edge of fear in her expression.

"Hang on, Artoo," Threepio spoke up.

Vader was directly on Luke's tail now, and whether he recognized his pursuer through the Force or not, his emotions were a tumult of anger, guilt, and fear. He'd failed his brother, failed Biggs, and now the entire Rebellion, all of his family were counting on him. If he failed here--

_Let go, Luke,_ Obi Wan encouraged.

A struggle began which had nothing to do with the TIE fighters behind him or even with the Death Star. Training and discipline battled with doubt and rage. Obi Wan sensed Luke's continued ambivalence. In his mind, he was not the Jedi he should have been--he wasn't sure that he was any kind of Jedi at all.

_Luke, trust me,_ his father said.

"His computer's off," reported the Control Officer. "Luke, you switched off your targeting computer. What's wrong?"

_"Nothing. I'm all right,"_ Luke assured them.

The Kenobis shared a knowing smile. Then, everyone's attention returned to the screen where the Death Star loomed ever nearer. Luke could still make it, but not by much.

_"I've lost Artoo!'_ Luke cried suddenly as a high pitched squeal from the droid faded into a low warble and then silence.

"The Death Star has cleared the planet."

Luke was still not close enough. Not yet. The Imperial TIE fighters raced after him with Vader in the lead, and Obi Wan well knew that the Sith would have a weapons' lock on X-Wing by now. Suddenly, though, one of the enemy ships winked off the tactical display. Within a few seconds, the others were gone as well, and a familiar voice yelled through the crackle of the speakers.

_"Yahoo! You're all clear, kid, now let's blow this thing and go home."_

"Han!" Leia and Ani shared a relieved grin. They already knew what the rest of the room did a few seconds later.

_"Great shot, kid, that was one in a million!"_

A shout of triumph rose up through the war room, punctuated by a resounding explosion which again filled their ears with static. This though, was not the death knell of their fallen comrades. It was the birthing cry of the Rebel Alliance, the culmination of nearly twenty years of waiting and planning on the part of men and women who remained loyal to the principles of the Republic. It was a warning call to Palpatine and his Empire. The dark times were coming to an end. The fallen would not be forgotten. In days ahead, they would be mourned and memorialized. Their friends would carry on the fight in their names, though, and their sacrifices would not be in vain. Today the Rebellion was truly born.

_Remember, the Force will be with you. Always._


	86. That Which Binds Us

Qui-Gon watched happily as the Kenobis and their friends spilled into the main hangar to welcome the returning heroes. Surrounded by a cheering crowd of pilots and ground personnel, Luke climbed out of the X-Wing and scrambled down the ladder. His sister pushed through the throng first, rushing toward him as he sprang to the floor. She threw her arms around and both laughed joyously as they danced around in a circle. Han ran toward them and Luke broke away from his twin to embrace the mercenary. They hugged roughly, laughing and slapping one another on the back.

"Hey, hey!" Han exclaimed.

"I knew you'd come back! I just knew it!" Luke grinned.

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you get all the glory and take all the reward!" Han declared, playfully giving the young pilot's face a shove.

Leia slipped between them, laughing up at him, "Hey, I knew there was more to you than money!"

"So did we," Ani spoke up.

"Ani!" Han cried, moving away from Leia to embrace the Knight, who was standing between his parents and Bail Organa. Still holding Shmi, he returned the hug with one arm, then both he and Han turned toward Padme, who smiled warmly and took the smuggler's hand.

Obi Wan inclined his head solemnly, murmuring, "Thank you, Captain Solo."

"Yeah, well, uh--" Han broke off, frowning at Leia, who had moved back next to Ani and was now whispering something in Shmi's ear.

The little girl broke into a grin and leaned across the short distance between Han and her father to peck the captain's cheek with a hero's kiss. His eyes went wide with surprise, and Ani smirked, turning to his daughter.

"Do you want to give Han a hug?" he suggested.

She nodded eagerly, and before the startled spacer could utter a protest, she had curled her arms around his neck. Ani deftly shifted her toward Han, forcing him to either wrap his arms around her or end up with a three-year-old dangling awkwardly off his neck.

"Thank you for helping Uncle Luke, Han," Shmi smiled.

"Yeah, you're welcome, kid," Han replied uncomfortably.

"I think that's the best reward he's ever gotten," remarked Bail, slipping an arm casually around Leia's waist.

She craned her neck to look at him and laughed, "I think you're right."

Luke stepped over to give his niece a kiss on the top of her head, then he turned to his parents and brother. Ani clasped the younger boy's arm, grinning proudly. "You did it, kid."

"Thanks, Ani," Luke replied, glancing down a bit shyly.

His brother stepped away to allow their parents to greet him, and Padme silently wrapped her arms around him. He returned the embrace, and the two stood unmoving for a long time, until Padme finally took a step back. Then, she raised her hands to his cheeks and smiled.

"You are truly following in your father's footsteps," she told him.

"And your mother's," Obi Wan amended.

Padme stepped back, and Luke smiled at his parents' interplay. Then as he moved to hug his father, something caught his attention, and he spun around to face the X-Wing again. A smoking, charred Artoo Detoo was being lifted off the back of the ship.

"Oh, no!" he cried as the droid was carried off by a group of mechanics.

Threepio watched, chattering apprehensively as they moved. "Oh, my! Artoo! Can you hear me? Say something! You can repair him, can't you?"

"We'll get to work on him right away," a technician promised.

"You must repair him! Sir, if any of my circuits or gears will help, I'll gladly donate them," Threepio offered.

Luke rested a hand on the anxious droid's shoulder. "He'll be all right."

Threepio turned to him with a nervous nod. "Oh, I do hope you're right, Master Luke!"

"Don't worry, Threepio," Padme promised. "He'll have everything he needs."

"Thank you, Mistress," the droid replied.

After a few more minutes of small talk, the group began to filter out of the hangar. Han, Leia, and Luke left together, arms linked around one another's waists while Han still carried Shmi against his other side. Chewbacca followed close behind them, with Threepio tottering along beside him. Padme and Obi Wan brought up the rear, wrapped comfortably in each other's arms, which left Ani in the hangar.

The crowd was beginning to break up. Most of the flight crews and technicians drifted back to work, and the pilots moved off out of the hangar as well, leaving the Knight to wander up to his brother's X-Wing. He hooked an arm around the ladder's handrail, leaning on it as he studied the craft. Then he slowly closed his eyes, issuing a soft sigh of regret.

Qui-Gon walked up behind him, watching silently for a moment. Then he lowered himself onto the ladder's bottom rung and stroked his beard. "He's still out there, Ani. Han's shot threw him into a spin and the TIE cleared the explosion."

"I know," Ani replied. "I didn't believe he would go through with it. I was wrong."

"You have a family who need you now," Qui-Gon reminded him. "Shmi is at an age when real training should begin."

"You could teach her. You taught me," Ani reminded him.

Qui-Gon smiled. Though he didn't understand all the reasons for it, Ani knew that Shmi was special to him. He had done his best not to interfere in her upbringing, though. An intrusion had been necessary in Ani's case. It wasn't with Shmi.

"Only because I had to," he replied.

"Then my father or one of the twins can," Ani said.

"Neither of the twins are ready," Qui-Gon reminded him. "Your father has _their_ training to finish."

"I meant what I said to Dad on the Death Star. I'm not ready either," Ani said. "I can't teach her the Jedi Way."

"Why not?" challenged Qui-Gon.

"Because…" Ani started to say something, then paused, breaking off with another sigh. "Look, I failed on the Death Star. I can accept that. That doesn't mean I'm ready to take on the responsibility of a Padawan. I can't fail her; I can't fail my own daughter. Not that way. And there's something else I have to settle first."

"Be careful, Ani. You're treading dangerously close to obsession with Vader," warned Qui-Gon.

"Obsession?" the Knight replied mildly. He turned to regard his friend and mentor with a sad shake of his head. "Because I love the man who has saved me time and again? Because I can't give up the belief that something of him remains under Darth Vader's mask? I know that I may not be able to save him, Qui-Gon, but I won't give up. I won't stop trying to reach him."

"Even at the cost of your life?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yes," replied Ani without hesitation.

"And what about your family? Are you going to let your self-imposed obligation to Vader leave Isaly without a husband? Your children without a father?" Qui-Gon challenged.

"That's not what I have in mind," Ani said ironically.

"But you well know it could end that way," Qui-Gon pointed out.

"I don't intend to walk up and let him tie my hands and take me to his emperor," Ani sighed. "I don't plan to die, and I won't turn."

"That's what he thought once, you know," replied Qui-Gon.

"He is my family, too, Qui-Gon. He always has been. Master Windu said once that our destinies were linked," Ani murmured, then quietly pushed himself away from the ladder and strode off after his parents and siblings.

Qui-Gon watched him go, giving his head a slow shake. He massaged his eyes with his fingers, sighing to himself. It had always been this boy who carried his hopes, but he was right about that much. Windu had seen that their destinies were tied together--tied with Obi Wan's and with Palpatine's.

"Yes," a familiar voice said, "Linked but not identical."

"The future is uncertain," Qui-Gon said as Mace appeared beside him.

"As it always is," the other Master said.

Qui-Gon nodded agreement. There was more he might have said, but he felt it best to let questions of the future rest for the moment. He rose, and both Jedi walked toward the hangar entrance, fading into the Force as they went.

-----

Ani followed his family into the hallway, fixing a smile on his face as he went. Obi Wan turned a questioning glance over his shoulder, but Ani shook his head. He was sure that his father was also well aware that Vader was still alive, and that he would continue to harass the Rebellion. Now knowing that the Kenobis were in fact alive would only give him a stronger motive to do so. There was no sense in discussing it now, when the taste of victory was still sweet on the tongues of the erstwhile freedom fighters.

Luke turned to look at him as well, calling, "Hey, Ani how are Isaly and the twins?"

"They were fine when I left," Ani replied. "Pooja's with them."

"They'll want to know Luke's all right," Leia spoke up.

"Let's go see them," Luke suggested.

"Han coming too!" Shmi piped up.

"Well, I--uh--" stammered the smuggler.

"Now, how can you refuse an invitation like that?" Ani shot with a laugh.

"Right," Han sighed.

The group made their way through the old stone halls to the infirmary, where Ani and Obi Wan devoted the next several minutes to convincing the med droids that it was all right for all of them to visit the new mother and her children. Then Ani slipped through the curtain to find his wife and cousin each tensely awaiting news with a baby in her arms.

Pooja was sitting on the bed beside Isaly and sprang to her feet as Ani came in. Isaly looked up from the baby she was holding, a wide smile on her face at her husband's arrival. That smile faltered, though, and a frown formed in its place when she realized that their daughter wasn't with him.

"Where's Little One?" she asked.

"She's outside," Ani promised, waving his hand toward the curtain he'd just stepped through. "Everybody is, actually. All right if they come in and see the twins?"

"Of course," Isaly gave a sigh of relief.

Ani ducked back out again, returning a second later with the rest of the well-wishers. Padme and Obi Wan immediately confiscated their grandchildren while Shmi wriggled down from Han's embrace and ran toward her mother's bed. She clambered up onto it and threw her arms around Isaly, hiding her face against her mother's breast.

Isaly stroked her hair and bent to give the top of her head a kiss. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"Mmm-hmm," Shmi nodded. "Han and Uncle Luke blowed up the Death Star."

"Hey, now, wait a minute--" protested Han.

"What's this?" Leia tilted her head. "I thought you said you wanted your share of the glory."

"Yeah, but I didn't blow anything up this time!" Han insisted.

"Face it, Han," Ani laughed. "You're one of the good guys now."

"Great. Just what I always wanted," Han rolled his eyes.

Chewie bellowed with laughter, and Han shot his friend a warning look. Then he covered his face with his hand as the whole room joined in. The twins were passed from person to person, allowing each the opportunity to sufficiently coo over them, until they began to fuss at the over-stimulation and were returned to Isaly and Pooja. Then, suddenly realizing he'd neglected to make introductions, Ani stepped forward again.

"Han, Chewie, this is my wife, Isaly, and my cousin, Pooja Naberrie," he began.

"Han Solo," Han said with a nod to each.

Chewie growled a soft greeting to both women and Ani continued, moving his arm to indicate which twin was which, "And these are our sons, Anakin and Obi-Wan."

"Hey, kid," Han replied, nodding again toward Isaly, who was holding Obi-Wan. Then he looked back at Pooja and nodded to little Anakin. "Junior."

"G'apa, look!" exclaimed Shmi, pointing at young Obi-Wan in sudden, wide eyed amazement. "This baby's Obi Too!"

Ani blinked in surprise, then stifled a snicker and turned to his mother. Padme grinned teasingly up at her husband and took his arm. "Didn't Jar Jar used to call you Obi-One?"

Obi Wan stared at his wife and son for a long moment. Then he slowly raised his hand to his face and sighed. "Listen to me, both of you. No one is calling my grandson Obi-Too."


	87. New Beginnings

There was no funeral pyre because there were no bodies to be burned. The drum beat, though, remained steady and solemn, commending the spirits of the people of Alderaan and the slain Rebel pilots to the Force. Leia stood in the throne room of Massassi Station, now dressed in the regal attire of a princess and the Senator of Alderaan. Bail Organa stood at her left, and oddly, it was not her brother but Han Solo at her immediate right. On either side of them in a long line were Chewie, her parents, Ani and Isaly with their children, and Pooja Naberrie.

Luke stood a few feet away with Wedge, the only other surviving member of Red Squadron. The drums finally came to a halt, and the two men came to attention before the huge wreath that represented their fallen comrades. They saluted in perfect unison, held the pose for several seconds, and then crisply let their arms drop to their sides.

_That's it?_ Leia found herself thinking. The memorial service had been a beautiful tribute to all those whose lives had been lost in order to destroy the Death Star. It was true that their sacrifice had not been in vain. The threat of the battle station itself had been nullified, and that action already leant a new legitimacy to the Rebel Alliance. Still, the princess couldn't help feeling that there should have been something more.

With the end of the ceremony, people were beginning to drift away. Tears misted Leia's eyes as the reality struck her that, even in the wake of a planet's destruction, life continued. The realist in her knew that it had to, but there was little comfort in that knowledge. Her chest was heavy with the knowledge that the world she had called home for so long was now gone--its lives and culture obliterated in a single act of callous destruction--and soon it would become no more than a piece of history.

She reached up with her left hand to wipe a tear from her cheek and felt the brush of calloused fingers against her right. She drew in a surprised breath, glancing down as Han took her hand. Her own fingers tightened on his in return, though her reaction left her more than a bit mystified. Before she could analyze it, however, Little One broke away from her mother to stand between Wedge and Luke.

"What will happen to Biggs now, Uncle Luke?" she asked.

"He's one with the Force now, Little One," Luke replied.

She nodded gravely, and the three of them started away from the memorial wreath. The rest of the family turned to go as well, but Leia saw her brother suddenly freeze. He looked back over his shoulder, and Leia felt warm tears slip down her cheeks as his grief and guilt washed over her. She and Han hurried forward together, and she knelt to place her hands on her niece's shoulders.

"Go with Han," she whispered.

Shmi nodded again, giving Luke's hand a squeeze before she let Han lead her off after the rest of the family. Wedge clapped Luke on the shoulder and quickly followed them. Her brother turned, shoulders slumped and stared with a forlorn look at the inadequate emblem which was all that remained of his lifelong friend. Gently, she slipped her arm around him, and she was not surprised when their parents noticed and came back to stand silently behind them. Luke offered no reaction but lowered himself to the ground and hugged his knees to his chest. With tears streaming her once perfect make up, Leia knelt beside him. She wrapped her arm around him again, wordlessly guiding his head onto her chest. He didn't resist, and she quietly let her cheek come to rest against the top of his head.

"You didn't fail him, Luke," she whispered. "You made his death mean something."

-----

The Kenobis dragged him and Chewie to dinner after the memorial service. Han would have been content to eat dry rations in the Falcon, but Ani invited him right in front of the kid, and how was he supposed to say no to that? Bail Organa came too, which made Han feel even _more_ like crawling into a hole. It was bad enough having to interact with Leia's mother. How exactly did a guy address a former Queen who went on to become a Senator and then _marry_ a Jedi Master, then faked her death and reinvented herself as a moisture farmer named Lila? He'd heard a few people around the base calling her Senator Kenobi, but the problem with that was that she _wasn't_ a Senator anymore. Mrs. Kenobi? No. That just didn't have enough class. After all, her daughter was a princess! Ani wasn't any help. All he did was smirk and suggest "Mom." Han sure as _hell_ wasn't gonna call her that! He didn't all anyone sir or ma'am, but the alternative was to address the lady as Padme, which still seemed too familiar.

He had made up his mind to call Obi Wan either "Master Kenobi" or "General Kenobi," but the problem was that he'd already gotten in the habit of saying "old man," and as hard as he tried, the phrase just kept slipping out. On top of that, he had the mind-boggling dilemma of Leia and her two fathers. She kept trying to remember to say "Uncle Bail" like her brothers, but half the time, she forgot, so whenever she happened to say something about her "dad", he found himself scratching his head and trying to figure out which one she was talking about. _Then_ he learned that Organa wasn't really related to the Kenobis at all, but that Ani had started calling him "Uncle Bail" when he and Padme had been on some Senate committee together twenty years ago. The whole concept just left Han dazed, and Chewie found the situation hysterical.

"Forget it," the Wookiee told him. "You wouldn't understand it even if they had Yoda explain it to you."

"What…?" Han asked. "Who's Yoda?"

"He's a little green guy, about yea big," Leia explained, gesturing with her hand to demonstrate Yoda's stature.

"Are you related to him too?" Han asked.

"No, he was my father's teacher a long time ago," she replied.

"Oh," he nodded. "Wait. Which father?"

The question earned him another burst of laughter from the family. Chewie joined in, giving Han the distinct impression that his friend knew something he wasn't telling. He glared hard at the Wookiee, who only tilted his head and looked at him with an expression of innocent confusion.

"Don't worry, Han, you'll figure it out eventually," Ani assured him.

"Oh thanks," he rolled his eyes.

"Han…?" Shmi spoke up from where she sat picking at her food in her grandfather's lap.

"What kid?" he asked.

"Are you goin' be our new uncle?"

Padme, Obi Wan and Pooja all burst into hysterics. The fork in Han's hand clattered noisily down onto his plate. He stared at the girl for a few seconds, then made a show of casually picking up the fork and starting to eat again. When he spoke, though, his tone was flat and unequivocal.

"No."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" demanded Leia.

"It means I wouldn't marry you if someone held a blaster to my head, Princess!" Han declared.

"Well," Leia replied smoothly. "That's fortunate, because if someone was holding a blaster your head, I'd tell him to _shoot!"_

Her parents only laughed harder at the exchange, leaving both Han and Leia mystified. Pooja turned to Obi Wan with a wink. "Well, I guess there won't be a proposal tonight, Uncle Obi Wan."

"I should hope not," the Jedi Master replied.

"What…?" Leia stared at them blankly.

"Proposal?" Han echoed.

"Well, Han," Padme laughed. "When you do propose, make sure that you get down on one knee in a completely inconvenient location."

"Try to have the rest of us eavesdropping someplace nearby, too," Ani added.

"Okay, that's it," Han shook his head. "You guys are all nuts!"

-----

On the stage behind Leia, Padme and Obi Wan watched the massive doors at the far end of the chamber slid open and Han, Luke, and Chewie marched into the temple. The trio descended the narrow stone steps and made their way up the aisle. Hundreds of Rebel troops stood on either side of them, and as they reached the second set of steps at the far end, the soldier's turned in the perfect unison of a military parade step.

To the rest of the people gathered there, the white gowned vision who awaited the triumphant heroes at the top of the steps was still Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. To her parents, though, she was far more. For Obi Wan in that moment, she was every bit as regal and beautiful as her mother had been in the Palace in Theed or the Senate Arena on Coruscant. Padme saw her beauty as well, but what struck her was how perfectly Leia emanated the dignity of her office. If Luke and Ani were the culmination of her husband's hopes, Leia was the realization of her own, and though she had never had the opportunity to see her daughter on the Senate floor, she knew well of Leia's work there, her commitment to ideals that she had learned first from her mother and father.

Obi Wan glanced over his right shoulder, where the rest of his family stood just off the stage. The walls on either side of it contained recesses at even intervals, which gave them the appearance of having columns. Ani and Isaly stood there with Shmi between them, each holding one of the twins, while Pooja looked on from the next opening. Shmi raised her hand and gave him a wave, and he grinned at her before turning his attention back to the ceremony.

Leia shared a smile with her brother, then half turned to look at Bail. The Viceroy stepped up beside her and solemnly presented her one of the two medals that they were gathered to present. She glanced back at Han as she accepted it, offered him a smile as well, and then gracefully placed the medal around his neck.

As Solo looked up again, Obi Wan saw him grin and wink at Leia. Padme caught the exchange as well and raised an eyebrow, giving her husband a knowing smirk. Obi Wan covered his face with his hand and shook his head. Ani, noting his father's sudden discomfiture, poked his head forward, whispering, "What? Dad, what?

He waved his hand dismissively, indicating that he would explain later. Bail stepped back, allowing Jan Dodonna to take his place, and the general handed Leia the second medal. She slipped it over Luke's head, then both of the honorees bowed. Artoo, now fully repaired and standing on the side of the stage with Threepio, began to beep and rock back and forth in a show of happiness and pride. Both Luke and Leia looked toward him and stifled laughter.

As they did, Shmi impulsively ran out from the side of the stage. She skidded to a halt beside Han and held up her arms expectantly, which once again left him with no choice but to pick her up. He raised his eyes to the ceiling as he did so, but Obi Wan sensed no real annoyance from him. Chuckling, he turned to his wife, who looked back at him with a laugh of her own, and the crowd began to applaud.

_This is going to be very interesting,_ he said silently.

_Well, darling, let's just hope it doesn't take them ten years,_ she replied.


	88. Moving On

The months following the Battle of Yavin were filled with both tension and triumph for the Rebel Alliance. The destruction of the Death Star caused a major shift in public perception, with the Alliance now seen as a legitimate military opponent to Palpatine's regime. They were still underdogs, both financially and in terms of sheer manpower, but many systems began to join the Rebellion, either openly or by providing illicit support.

The three major problems that the Rebellion faced were a lack of immediate funds to buffer the losses suffered in the battle, the fact that the Empire was now aware of the location of the secret base, and the difficulty of meshing many established underground resistance movements on recruit worlds into a unified military operation under Alliance High Command. The first was solved rather quickly and in an unexpected manner. The day after the heroes received their medals, Ani helped Han and Chewie raid the Massassi temples, confiscating the Sith treasure hidden there and then accompanied them as they sold it to finance replacements for the X-Wings, A-Wings and equipment damaged in the battle. The second dilemma was not so easily solved. Massassi Station quickly became the target of Imperial attack, and though the Alliance was actively searching for a new headquarters, it wasn't until Luke stumbled upon the remote ice-world of Hoth that a viable location was found. Once High Command approved a move to Hoth, it was necessary for suitable habitat to be designed and engineered, which would take some time. Ani and Obi Wan spent most of their time assisting in the defense of Yavin 4, while Luke and the members of the re-formed formed Red Squadron either assisted or conducted other high-risk flight missions, under Commander Narra and Luke, rapidly earning a reputation as the Rebellion's crack starfighter squadron. The third problem was largely the province of Leia and Padme, along with other more diplomatically oriented members of the Rebellion. Together or apart, the two women often traveled to new systems to conduct negotiations--at least until the Imperial blockade began.

The Rebels had by that point begun the process of evacuating the base, intending the regroup outside the system and rendezvous with Admiral Ackbar's fleet. Pooja had left by then, returning to Naboo in order to act as a liaison for the Rebellion there, but the rest of the Kenobis, including the children, were still on the moon when an armada arrived and surrounded the entire Gordian Reach Sector. Spies working within the Imperial regime reported that the siege had been ordered by Darth Vader, who was intent on capturing Obi Wan and other key leaders like Bail and Jan Dodonna, but the Sith Lord himself did not make an immediate appearance.

Although smaller ships--starfighters and even the _Falcon_--could evade the Imperials and ran the blockade with relative ease, larger craft were trapped. Command staff including Dodonna began to coordinate a full evacuation, but High Command considered Padme far too valuable for her to risk leaving the moon in the meanwhile. She reluctantly agreed, but as the siege wore on, she began to change her mind.

It was Han who first broached the subject of taking her, Isaly, and the children through the blockade in the _Falcon_. The members of Rogue Flight--the half of Red Squadron which operated directly under Luke's command--were also there that morning, since Padme had taken to serving a communal breakfast in the Kenobis quarters, and they quickly volunteered to provide cover until Han could take the ship into hyperspace.

"Are you sure you can make it?" Obi Wan asked candidly.

"C'mon, Chewie and I have done it a million times," Han replied.

The Wookiee growled agreement.

"What do you think?" the Jedi looked questioningly toward his wife.

"We should all go," Padme said.

"I can't," Obi Wan shook his head.

"Well, then I'm not going," she insisted.

"Neither am I," Isaly agreed. "Not unless Ani and Mom are coming."

"Oh, yeah, and who's supposed to take care of your kids while you two are--" began Han.

"I stay with G'apa!" Shmi declared.

"I give up," sighed Han.

"Maybe it's not my place," Wedge spoke up, "but I think it would be a lot safer if Isaly and Mom went with the kids. It's going to be way more dangerous trying to get them out during a full scale evacuation, and we wouldn't be able to fly cover just for the _Falcon_."

"I think Wedge is right," agreed Luke, "besides, like Han said, we can't just drop the kids off with the fleet without anyone to take care of them."

"We can send them to Pooja or my sister on Naboo," Padme suggested.

"It's too risky," Han shook his head. "Anyone finds out who they are, your whole family's pegged as Rebel collaborators."

"I stay with my G'apa!" Shmi twisted in Obi Wan's lap to throw her arms around his neck.

"Shh," he told her. "It won't be long until we're all together again, Little One."

"See?" Han gestured toward them. "Not long. No reason why Isaly and Mom--I mean--Senator--uh…"

Padme chuckled softly. Han was the only one of their children's friends who hadn't fallen into the habit of addressing her as "Mom." He still stubbornly clung to his aloof, mercenary demeanor most of the time, but his defensive walls were beginning to crumble.

"Han, you know, you can call me Mom too," she said.

"_No_, he can't!" Leia interjected hotly.

Han drew himself up straighter, squared his shoulders, and slowly turned his head to smirk at her. Then he looked at Padme again and said, "Thanks, _Mom_."

Both Padme and Obi Wan stifled laughter. Leia rolled her eyes and ignored him until Isaly announced that she was going to feed the twins, then she huffed off with her sister-in-law, volunteering to help. Han's eyes followed them briefly, then he caught himself and abruptly decided that he and Chewie had to go repair a coolant leak on the _Falcon._ Shmi scrambled off her grandfather's lap and raced after the pair while Han voiced his usual string of objections but did nothing to actually stop her from following him out the door. Ani, Luke, and his wingmates quickly finished eating and went off to their duties, leaving Obi Wan and Padme alone at the table.

He laughed quietly, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. "So he'll call you Mom to irritate her."

"And she'll pretend she doesn't want him to," Padme added.

"You know, I think she actually believes it," he murmured.

"Do you think I should talk to her?" she asked as she pushed back her chair to begin clearing the dishes.

"Maybe," he said thoughtfully, getting up as well. As he picked up a couple of plates, he added, "I'd give them a while longer to work it out for themselves."

"All right," she smiled.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said mischievously. "Only that someone seems to have changed his tune about Han."

"Well, what else can I do? Our daughter loves him," Obi Wan pointed out. "Besides, I never said I didn't like him."

"You'd just prefer it if Leia didn't like him so much," Padme teased.

"Leia deserves only the best," he shrugged.

"I think Han is what's best for _her_," said Padme.

"I'm beginning to agree with you," he admitted.

"Good," she replied.

He only gave his head a shake and touched her cheek. Then they cleaned the table together in companionable silence. The dishes were done and put away in much the same manner, then he turned to her with a contemplative frown and leaned his elbow on the counter.

"You know, Wedge is right," he said.

"Do you want me to go?" she asked.

"I think it's the safest and most logical course of action, Padme, and we both know that you can be of more use to the Rebellion with the fleet than you can while you're stuck here," he replied.

"I don't want to leave you in the middle of a war zone. I don't want to be away from you, either, especially since we don't really know when the evacuation will start yet,"

"We've been apart before," he reminded her.

"I know," she nodded. "That doesn't mean I want to be apart again."

"It won't be for long this time," he promised.

"That's what we always said during the Clone Wars," she sighed.

He nodded in acknowledgement and cupped her face in his hands. Then he leaned forward to press his lips against her forehead. "Look, if you don't go, Isaly won't either. If she doesn't, you know we can't send the grandchildren."

"All right," she agreed as she slid her arms around his waist. "But you had better make it to the fleet when the base is evacuated."

-----

Repairing a coolant leak with a three year old underfoot was a challenge that Han Solo neither relished nor wished to endure a second time. Despite this, he knew that it would be better to let Ani's daughter tag along with him than to try to resist. He had attempted that a few times, and between Shmi's pouting and the Kenobis' teasing, he decided that it would ultimately be less of a headache to have her follow him everywhere he went. So what if they all thought the kid was getting under his skin? So what if Chewie found the whole situation hysterical? It was better than the alternative.

They probably all thought that his idea of taking Padme, Isaly and the kids out on the _Falcon_ was evidence that he was losing his edge, too. They were wrong, though. Completely and totally wrong. Han had his own reasons for wanting them off Yavin 4--underhanded, mean, selfish reasons too. With them gone, there'd be no more pesky kid hanging on him. There would be no more dinner invitations he couldn't refuse, no one telling him to call Padme "Mom," and no one to be all upset when he didn't turn up at breakfast. Leia wouldn't care, that was for sure. She would probably be _glad_ not to have to see his face at meal times. He had decided that that was just as well, too.

He liked Luke and Ani. The truth was, he even liked Leia when she wasn't bending over backwards to convince everyone else how much she didn't like _him_. He liked them all far better, though, when they were _working_ together--running the blockade or chasing pirates off Rebel supply lines, even going head to head against Imperial starships. That was the stuff Han knew, the stuff he could do in his sleep. He _didn't_ like them when they were hanging around their parents quarters on the base, acting like some perfect happy family despite the fact that they were all in the middle of a war. Well, okay. He still liked _them._ He couldn't deny that, but the whole family thing just made him uncomfortable. Han Solo wasn't a family man, and he never would be, even if the Kenobis were all bound and determined to make him part of theirs. Except Leia, anyway. Leia couldn't care less. So, it was just as well that the people who seemed to care most would be out of his hair if and when he decided to pull out of this Rebellion business. There was still a bounty hanging over his head, after all--

"Han…" Shmi called, cutting off his thoughts.

"What, kid?" he called without looking.

"You gonna marry Aunt Leia," she declared.

"I am not!"

"Are too-ooo…!" she sang in reply.

"Listen," Han turned to face her, crossing his arms. "I don't care what everybody else around here seems to think, kid. I am _not_ marrying Leia!"


	89. That Space In Your Heart

Later that day, Ani returned from perimeter patrol to find his sister alone in the jungle. He frowned, making his way over to the boulder where she was sitting. She held one hand to her forehead and didn't move as he approached, but she knew he was there. Quietly, he slid down beside her, waiting for her to look up. She did so after a moment, offering him a weak smile.

"Are you all right? " he began. "That was a dumb question, wasn't it?"

"A little," she admitted with a reluctant laugh.

"I have something for you," he said, reaching up to remove the japor necklace. "I've been meaning to give this back to you for a while."

Leia's smile faltered as he placed it in her hand. "Ani, I'm not sure it's going to fit anymore."

"Why not?" he asked.

"I guess because I still feel more like Princess Leia than Leia Kenobi," she confessed.

"Can you be both?" he wanted to know.

"I'm trying," she replied. "I just don't feel like it's working very well."

"Can I help?"

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Well, do you always feel that way?" inquired her brother.

"No..." she said slowly. "No, I guess I don't."

"When don't you?" Ani asked.

Leia frowned thoughtfully, "Well, when I'm with Luke. Just us, I mean. When I first saw him on the Death Star, before he even gave me my memories back, I felt something. I was just--drawn to him. There was always a connection between us in the Force, even when were kids. I know what he's feeling, I know when something's wrong. Sometimes, on Alderaan I felt things I couldn't explain. I know everybody probably has times when they feel sad or lonely and don't know why, but I think there was more to it than that. I think I was sensing Luke's feelings, but I didn't know it. Other times, I felt there was a part of me missing--as much as I loved the Organas and Winter, I never quite felt like I fit. I always just thought if I could have a sibling of my own, someone who really understood me, it would be better.

"The ironic thing about it is how much time Luke and I spent bickering when we were little. On the one hand, when we're together, I feel as if nothing's changed between us. On the other, I don't think we've had one fight since he and Han rescued me. So, obviously some things have changed. He's very different from the boy I remember, but there's no sense of distance or awkwardness, and sometimes I still have that, even with Mom and Dad. I mean, I catch myself saying 'Dad' when I mean Uncle Bail. I know they think of me as their daughter, but half of the time I feel like they're--well--not strangers. More like they're the aunt and uncle, and Bail is my father."

"I think it's understandable, Leia. No one is asking or expecting that you suddenly alter you're relationship with Uncle Bail. Mom and Dad realize how close you are to him. They don't want to take that away from you," Ani promised.

"But they want their daughter back," Leia pointed out.

"Yes, they do. Exactly as she is, without condition. I don't think there's going to be a magical fix for this one. It doesn't matter if there is, though. Family isn't perfect. It's always happy, it's just--always there. It's not about the people you're related to, it's--the people you love. The ones who don't stop loving you no matter how much you change. Or they change..." he let the statement trail off and swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat.

"Ani, what is it?" Leia frowned.

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Yes, it is something. Don't tell me that," she gave him a long look. Then her frown deepened. "Uncle Anakin?"

"I miss him sometimes," Ani said, managing to hide his surprise. He forgot sometimes how strong the Force was in both of the twins, and he rarely had reason to keep his feelings from them.

"Is that all?" Leia persisted.

"It's not important now, Sis," he smiled reassuringly. "We were talking about you."

She looked down at her lap, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. Then she explained, "Mom and I have had some time to get to know each other again in the past few months, but other than her and Luke I think the person in the family that I've felt the most at ease with has been Pooja."

"Because you two knew each other," Ani said.

She nodded.

"And now Pooja's gone," Ani sighed sympathetically.

"Ani, it's not that I don't _love_ all of you. I'll never forget how it felt being there when the twins were born. Holding Obi-Wanâ€¦but the kids are probably leaving too," Leia sighed. "I sound spoiled, don't I?"

"Not at _all_, Leia," he shook his head.

"I know they have to go," she told him.

"But as soon as you make a connection, things change. They leave, and you're supposed to be okay with that because it's necessary," Ani said.

She nodded slowly. "And then there's Alderaan, which is a whole other story."

"How?" he asked.

"I know I'm not the only one who's still mourning. Uncle Bail certainly is. I think he will for the rest of his life. It wouldn't be fair to say that you or Mom and Dad don't feel the loss, either. But even though I know that we grew up on Tatooine, and we have family on Naboo, Alderaan feels like my home. And it's gone. It's justâ€¦gone," she finished, tears welling up in her dark eyes.

Ani gently drew her against his chest. At first he didn't speak, simply held her and let her work out her own emotions. After a few moments, her arms slid around him as well. As she returned the hug, he drew a breath.

"I won't say I know how you feel, Sis. I can't imagine what it must be like for you and Uncle Bail. But I think I might be able to understand a little," he said carefully.

"What do you mean?" she looked up at him in surprise.

"Mom and Dad think of Naboo as home. When this war is over, all they really want is to go back there. Pooja feels the same way about it. I--well, I remember living there when I was little, but for me, home is Tatooine. It's where I grew up. Everything I love is associated with it in one way or another. But even if I can go back to the farm someday, it will never be the same. Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen are gone. Mom and Dad aren't going back. Neither are you and Luke. The life we had there is gone, and there's no way to get it back. I know I just have to let go, but it's not exactly easy."

"I guess it's not supposed to be," Leia smiled.

-----

Padme announced that she had changed her mind at dinner that night. Ani, Obi Wan, and Han all tried to convince Isaly to go along, but she would hear none of it. Then Luke and Wedge chimed with their arguments about the potential risks of staying, none of which phased her. In the end, they let the subject drop, and the meal ended peacefully enough, but Han beat a quick escape as soon as it was over. Wedge left far earlier than usual, and Luke went along with him, making some excuse about an early morning for the Squadron, and for the first time Isaly could remember, there was no laughing and joking among the rest of the family.

Even Shmi felt the tension. She slipped off into the room that she now shared with her baby brothers, saying that she was sleepy. When Isaly went in to check on them a short time later, though, she wasn't surprised to find her daughter wide awake and perched on the edge of her bed, swinging her feet as she chattered idly to her brothers.

Smiling, she walked into the room and sat down on the bed, which was in actuality just an old cot with extra bedding added to make the little girl more comfortable. Shmi broke off whatever "conversation" that she and the twins had been having and ducked her head onto Isaly's breast.

"So, you like having brothers now?" Isaly asked conversationally.

Shmi looked up again, frowning ponderously. "I like bothers when they no cry."

"Me too," Isaly laughed.

"Han tell me when they older, I get to boss them around," she related.

"I think you've been spending too much time with Han," Isaly said, restraining another laugh."

"Like Han!" Shmi protested.

"I know you do," nodded her mother.

"You like Han, too?" Shmi asked.

"I think everyone likes Han," Isaly assured her.

"Jabba no like Han," Shmi said with a worried frown.

"How do you know about Jabba?" asked Isaly.

"Han and Chewie," she explained. "Han think I no un'erstand. Chewie tell him shut up."

"Listen, sweetheart, you don't have to worry about Jabba," Isaly promised.

"Sure?" asked Shmi.

Isaly nodded. "Jabba doesn't know where Han is."

"Jabba find him?" Shmi bit her lip.

"Maybe he will sometime. But Han has friends who care about him here. He and Chewie won't have to deal with Jabba by themselves," said Isaly.

"My daddy make Jabba leave Han alone!" Shmi grinned, waving her arm in imitation of a lightsaber's graceful arc.

"Maybe. But I think he'd prefer a more peaceful solution," Isaly winked.

"Oh," Shmi sighed in disappointment.

"Don't worry. I'm sure that whatever happens, Daddy and Uncle Luke will make sure Han is okay," Isaly smiled, pushing herself to her feet. She crossed the small space between Shmi's bed and the twins' makeshift crib, then leaned over to rearrange them so that young Anakin wasn't stealing all of the pillows.

"Uncle Luke help too?" Shmi asked.

"Well, of course," replied Isaly. "Kenobis have this this thing about family, you know. We always face our problems together."

"How come Grandma take us away?" she wanted to know.

"Because it's safer this way," Isaly explained, turning to face her daughter again. "The Empire won't be able to find you with the fleet."

"Why you and Daddy no come?" she asked.

"Well, Daddy, Grandpa, and Uncle Luke have duties here. They can't come away yet, so I'm going to stay with them," Isaly said.

"G'apa and Uncle no take care of Daddy...?" Shmi raised her eyebrows.

"Of course they can. I just--"

"Mommy, you come with us. Grandma need help take care of Obi-Too and Junior," her daughter declared.

Isaly laughed involuntarily at the use of the nicknames. Han had pinned them on the twins, and despite Obi Wan's valiant efforts to eradicate even the memory of "Obi-Too," Shmi and the smuggler seemed determined to make sure that the labels stayed firmly affixed. It did no good to point out to Han that the twins would certainly hate the names when they were older. It also did no good to remind him that his co-conspirator was a three-year old. Leia had made the mistake of calling his antics "juvenile," so now he simply delighted in dragging Shmi into whatever schemes he could simply because doing so was a sure-fire way to irritate her aunt.

She quickly sobered, however, running a hand over her face. The truth was, of course, that her daughter was right. She wasn't needed on Yavin 4. Luke and Obi Wan were far more apt to be the ones near Ani during an evacuation, while she would be ushered out and surrounded by base security personnel, who would otherwise have been assigned to more vital duties.

"All right."


	90. The Chance to Breathe

Ani leaned on the doorframe, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched his young family. Isaly coaxed Little One to bed with promises that she would indeed leave with the kids. Once she was settled, he pushed himself off the wall and walked inside. Isaly offered him a smile of welcome as he bent to kiss their daughter's forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmured.

"'Night, Daddy," she slipped her arms around his neck, and he was suddenly struck with the incongruity of the moment. It should have been impossible for the utter normalcy of putting Shmi to bed to exist alongside the Imperial blockade and the war that they were all now caught up in. As he straightened, Isaly caught his eye, frowning in a silent question.

"Come for a walk with me?" he asked.

"I come too!" Shmi exclaimed, springing upright in bed again.

"No, you can't come," Isaly smiled. "It's time for bed."

"Why you no go to bed then?" she challenged.

Isaly tilted her head, unmoved, and rested her hand on their daughter's shoulder, guiding her firmly back down on the pillow. "Because I'm your mother."

Shmi scowled at her but didn't argue. Ani bit his lip, trying with some difficulty not to laugh. All of the Kenobis were prone to let Shmi have her way. She was the completion of so many things for them, and though she had not been planned, Ani could no longer imagine a life without her. In a very real way, she had been responsible for bringing Isaly into the family. For Ani, that meant the inclusion of the woman he loved in all the aspects of his life that were the most important--his family, the farm, even the foundations of a new Jedi Order. Much like his mother, Isaly was not a Jedi, but she had as much influence on Shmi as did Ani or her grandparents. If anyone at all was going to take a disciplinary tack with Little One, it tended to be Isaly--a situation that Ani found both ironic and fitting in light of who Shmi's grandfather was.

He and Isaly walked out of the room together, both unconsciously ducking their heads as they entered the main room. Then they glanced at one another and both chuckled as their eyes met. After a lifetime on Tatooine, neither of them were quite used to living in a building with wide stone archways and doors so tall that dipping ones head to pass from room to room was completely unnecessary. His parents occupied the two chairs in the main room that were actually comfortable, and both of them were absorbed in the data readers in their hands. Leia must have gone to see Bail, but Ani had no doubt that their parents would be willing babysitters.

"Would you two mind keeping an eye on the kids?" Isaly asked. "I think we're going to go for a walk."

"Of course not, darling," Obi Wan murmured absently.

"That's like asking him if he minds dessert," Padme commented, also not looking up.

"Am I supposed to mind dessert?" he asked dryly.

"No, you're supposed to mind your waistline," she retorted.

"Well, isn't that your job?" he asked, feigning surprise.

"It must be, because otherwise you'd have cake for breakfast like your son," she teased.

All of this took place without either of them looking up at the other. Ani shook his head fondly. "Have fun, you two," he laughed, reaching automatically for Isaly's hand. As soon as their fingers touched, he felt her tense, but she tightened her own grip. They turned to leave together, and if either of his parents noticed the lingering discomfort, neither spoke or did anything to call attention to it.

Isaly wasn't the only one who had trouble with his new hands. Ani caught himself staring at them from time to time, trying and failing to make the strange appendages truly feel like part of himself. They moved when he wanted them to; they reacted more quickly and were more nimble than his real hands had ever been without the aid of the Force. Although they were not alive, they retained traces of Force energy in the elements that formed them. With time, he knew that he would be able to reconcile that energy with the Force within himself. They were already one and the same; the difficulty came from his own mind. For him, as for his wife, they were a constant visible reminder of what had happened to him aboard the Death Star--and of who had inflicted the injuries he suffered there. They were an inescapable symbol for pain, and as hard as both Isaly and Ani tried not to let them be, they were often now a barrier between the couple.

As much as he longed to, Ani could seldom touch his wife without becoming aware that the hands were not his. Although she craved contact, the hands she wanted to feel were not made of metal, and the ones he now had filled her mind with images as vivid and disturbing as the dreams which had tormented Ani all of his life. She was becoming more able to suppress those reactions, but her mind reflected back to him the horror he had felt during the duel, and compounded with her own grief, those feelings tainted even innocent gestures of affection like the one he had just initiated.

They walked out into the hall now, and she rested her cheek on his shoulder. He released her fingers to wrap his arm around her and turned to kiss her temple with silent gratitude. Neither of them raised the subject of his hands now. There had already been more than enough apologies and even a few arguments. It simply wasn't necessary anymore. Both of them knew that his hands and legs were a fact of life that they would have to come to terms with. Both were determined to do so, but the actual process was simply not going to be accomplished overnight.

-----

The corridor was eerily empty. With only command and support staff still at Massassi Station, the base seemed more than it ever had like the ancient temple that it had once been. The hallways echoed with the footsteps and voices of the remaining Rebels, and their presence often seemed an intrusion on the imposing silence of the place. Isaly often felt an impulse to speak softly during the day. Alone here at night with only her husband, she found herself whispering.

"What was wrong in there with Shmi?" she asked.

"It's just that, more than anything, I wanted to be able to keep the kids out of this," he said. "I've always known that my father and I would have to face Vader and Sidious. Before I met you, I sort of had the idea that once that was over I'd go back to Tatooine, work the farm with Uncle Owen, maybe meet someone in Anchorhead. As a Jedi, I was taught not to spend time dwelling on the future, so I didn't think about it very often at all. Once you told me that you were pregnant, though, all of that changed for me. I had to think about the future; I had you and Shmi to consider, and I guess all parents have hopes and dreams for their kids. One of my biggest ones was just--that they could stay safely hidden on Tatooine without the Emperor ever knowing about them, or this war we're fighting ever being more than…well, the thing that took me and Dad away for a while."

"What about Mom and I?" Isaly asked. The Kenobis were the only family that she had ever really known. Watto would always be part of her family, of course, but living with him wasn't the same as being part of a real family. It had been something of an adjustment for her when she first came to the farm. Despite the warm welcome that she had received, it had taken her a while to truly feel at ease in an environment where--with the possible exception of Owen--family members treated one another with open affection and respect.

Watto cared, of course, but he pretended he didn't, and she was used to his way of relating to people. From the day that Luke first brought her to the farm, though, Isaly had felt a rapport with her mother-in-law. Padme was always able to meet any discomfort that Isaly felt and subtly helped her find her own place within this close-knit and intensely duty-conscious group of people.

Although she had never been to Coruscant and had not seen the end of the Clone Wars, Isaly was not a stranger to the pain and loss that the war had caused. She didn't have Padme's grasp of politics or the boys' and Obi Wan's understanding of the Force, but she had learned something about both in the three years that she and Ani had now been married. Padme was a good mentor, and Ani had grown up watching his parents discuss and debate relative issues both political and philosophical. Whether they were discussing politics, the ideas and beliefs of the Jedi, or the problems and concerns of farm life, he valued her opinions and perspective as much as his father did Padme's, and so she had unabashedly asked questions, wanting to be no less than the kind of challenging and supportive partner to Ani that Padme was to his father.

She had always hated the Empire, and if she hadn't met Ani when she did, she would have found her own way off of Tatooine and gone in search of the Rebellion. Enough spacers like Han drifted through Watto's that she had heard rumors about organized resistance to Palpatine for years. She had known that Watto wouldn't like it, but she couldn't see herself spending her entire life working in a junk shop, and she'd always wanted to be a part of the effort to restore the Republic. Her father had died defending it, and though she knew very little about him, she felt that she owed it to his memory to finish what he started. Now she was part of the Rebellion, but more importantly to her, she was part of a family. Like Padme, she wasn't afraid to stand and fight beside those she loved.

They had both hated the necessity of staying behind on Tatooine while Obi Wan and the boys went to take the droids to Alderaan. There had been no way around it, no other option under the circumstances, but especially given what had happened to Ani, neither woman relished the prospect of leaving their men to fight alone again. She understood Ani's sentiment about the kids perfectly, but he seemed to think that she and Padme also needed to be hidden and protected.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly. "But would you honestly have taken the kids here if you'd had a choice?"

"No, I guess I wouldn't," she admitted.

"I'll never forget the day that Grievous invaded Coruscant. I was a year older than Little One, and there I was carrying around Qui-Gon's lightsaber thinking I had to protect Mom from the Separatists."

"The way I hear it, it's a good thing you did," she said, lifting her head from his shoulder. She lifted her hand to his face, turning his head to meet her gaze. Then she smiled warmly. "You saved her and the twins, remember?"

"Yes," he replied. "But I didn't want our kids to have to go through things like that."

"Our children are Kenobis," she said quietly. "You can't protect them from their destinies. And you shouldn't."


	91. To Wash The Doubt Away

Ani felt a trace of reluctance even as he nodded in agreement. He knew that Shmi and the twins couldn't be shielded too much from the galaxy in which they lived. Just as Padme and Obi Wan had tried to prepare him, Luke, and Leia, he and Isaly would have to do everything they could to make sure that their children were ready for whatever their futures held. All parents, he supposed, had that responsibility, but Jedi children--or at least Kenobi children--seemed to be confronted early and painfully with the darkest aspects of sentient life. He was Jedi enough to know that his response _had_ to be acceptance of the paths his children walked, but that did nothing to prevent the father in him from wishing that they might not have had to shoulder the same kind of burdens that he had at Shmi's age.

"I was still three when they left to hunt down Asaj Ventress. Before they left, they took me for a walk by the lake and told me that they needed me to take care of Mom. I realize it was just one of those things that men do with little boys, but I took to heart. Guess I've been protecting somebody or other ever since," he smiled.

"You're good at it," she allowed.

"You know, it was the last time I saw either of them until…" he bit his lip.

"That's what's really bothering you, isn't it?" she asked.

Ani drew in a long, deep breath and let it out again. "Leia and I were talking about family today. I told her that family meant the people who love you no matter how much you change, or they change."

Isaly wet her lips and looked thoughtfully down at their boots as they walked. "Did she know you were talking about Anakin?"

"I didn't know I was talking about Anakin until I finished saying it. She's having trouble with feeling out of place here. She said she still feels more like Princess Leia than a Kenobi, and she's having a hard time figuring out how to be both. So, I was trying to tell her that family was more than just the people you're related to," he explained.

"Are you all right?" she asked, looking up at him again in concern.

"Not really," he shook his head.

"What happened after that?" she prompted gently.

"Well, she sensed my feelings and asked me about it. I told her that I missed him sometimes, which is true enough. Then I deflected it back to her feelings about Alderaan," he related.

"Oh, Ani," she sighed.

"It's not as if she'd be likely to make a connection between Anakin Skywalker and Alderaan," he said roughly.

"Why didn't Mom and Dad ever tell the twins?" she asked.

"Well, when they were little, Dad said he wanted them know who our uncle really was. He told me that he would explain about Vader when they were old enough to understand. I guess he and mom felt that they couldn't tell Luke without telling Leia, and then when Leia chose to stay on Alderaan, they just decided to keep waiting for her. Now--" he broke off uncomfortably.

"Do you still think there's good in him?" she asked tentatively.

"I know there is," he responded instantly. "But this isn't the time to bring it up with Leia. She has enough to deal with emotionally right now without finding out that the man who tortured her and--tried to kill Dad--"

The color drained from Isaly's face and she pressed her lips together in a thin line, as if suppressing a cry of pain. Ani could well understand. It was the same reaction he struggled not to show whenever the subject of Vader was mentioned around the base.

"That's not all he did, Ani," she said carefully.

"I know," he wearily pressed the thumb and forefinger of his right hand to his eyes, but as soon as the durasteel fingers touched his eyelids, he shuddered and pulled the hand away.

"I'm sorry," Isaly hurried to say. "I didn't mean to--"

"No, you're right," he shook his head. "I have to talk about it--and--if I can't do that with you, then I don't know who I could even think about discussing it with."

"You know you can tell me anything," she reminded him.

He swallowed and took another breath, trying to make sense of the swirl of interconnected but often mismatched thoughts and feelings that surrounding Anakin Skywalker in his mind. Unlike his father, Ani had never been able to completely divorce Anakin from Vader. He couldn't make himself believe that Anakin was dead--but the conviction that his childhood hero remained in Vader only made the things that Vader had done more horrifying. If Anakin was dead, then Vader was simply a thing of the Dark Side, not a human being. The reality was, though, that there remained at least a vestige of humanity within the Sith Lord--which meant that the same Anakin who had protected and loved him, who had held him in the Jedi Temple the night before the massacre and dried his tears--had intentionally and systematically dismembered him.

Even then, though Ani had been able to sense something of Vader's intent. His particular gift in the Force had always been a highly attuned empathic ability. By the time he was thirteen, he was better able to discern and interpret the surface feelings of those around him than Obi Wan. When it came to family members or the select few others with whom he was especially close, Ani could often sense deeper, more hidden emotions without having to try. Vader had become adept at dissecting his own emotional make-up, at partitioning off those feelings which would hamper his ability to command the Dark Side of the Force. He wielded hate and rage as skillfully as he did his lightsaber. He had also probably even learned to bury certain intentions and desires so deeply that his Master Sidious couldn't see them. Otherwise, the Emperor would have known from the outset that Anakin had not intended to kill his nephew in the temple.

However, there was a bond between Anakin Skywalker and Anakin Kenobi far beyond anything that the Emperor yet realized. Whether it had been established in the moment that the Padawan Anakin saved newborn Ani's life or whether it had already existed was something that the Knight had never been able to determine, but he was well aware that it existed. Vader might be able to hide his deepest self from Sidious, but he couldn't hide it from Ani.

Even while he had watched his own hand tumble to the floor and cried out with pain that was beyond the physical agony of the wound, Ani had known what Vader was trying to do. Ani had been distracted. The Sith could have used that lack of focus to sever his entire arm--or even attempt a killing strike. Instead, he had chosen what he believed was the most merciful option available--_cho mai_--the act of severing an opponent's weapon hand. It was a Jedi's choice. It was Anakin Skywalker's choice. Taking Ani's other arm had been a desperation move on Vader's part, and he hadn't meant to amputate the Knight's legs at all. Knowing those things had allowed Ani to justify his own belief that there was good left in Vader, especially in light of the fact that Vader had not taken the opportunity to behead Ani when he could easily have done so.

Yet, the same Vader had tortured Leia. He could have stayed Tarkin's order to destroy Alderaan, and he had chosen not to. During the duel, he had fully intended to murder Obi Wan. Later, when he Death Star arrived in the Yavin system, he had been willing to destroy the entire moon of Yavin 4 and Ani along with it.

"What scares me is that I miss him," he confessed.

------

Isaly blinked. Of all the things that her husband could have said, this was the last one she expected. Not that she wasn't fully aware of how much Ani missed his uncle and was determined to save him. The idea that those feelings could frighten him, however, was entirely new to her.

"It…scares you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Mom says that Anakin always missed his mother, that Shmi Skywalker haunted him. From what she tells me, I think his inability to save her from death is what started him down the path of the Dark Side," Ani explained.

"You're not him," she shook her head. "You're nothing like him."

"I'm not so sure," he replied.

"Ani, you've always told me that you knew you might not be able to save him but you had to try. That's entirely different from refusing to accept the possibility of failure--or trying to stop death. Unless you're telling me that you've changed your mind about all that?" she raised her voice at the end of the phrase, giving it the vocal intonation of a question.

"No," he promised, "but even Qui-Gon thinks I should give up on him."

"Does Qui-Gon know everything?" she asked. The question wasn't meant to be snide; she honestly had never been sure exactly what Qui-Gon was now or how much he knew. Ani said that he was "one with the Force," and she knew that it was his relationship with the Force that gave her husband powerful insights and prescient dreams. She also knew that the Force was in all things, giving the Jedi Spirit the ability to be wherever he chose, but she didn't think that it also made him omniscient.

"No, he doesn't," Ani replied. "He can't. The future isn't predetermined; it's influenced by the actions and choices of living beings. There are some events which are more likely than others, some that are just going to happen, but the outcomes are never certain."

"Then Qui-Gon's opinion is just that," Isaly frowned. "An opinion."

"I value his opinion," Ani said.

"I know you do. I know that you respect him and your father as mentors, and I think you should. That doesn't mean you always have to defer to their wishes or always trust their judgment. You have to choose your own path," she told him.

"I don't know what choice to make," he shook his head.

"Yes you do," Isaly replied. "What does your heart tell you?"

He closed his eyes. "Isaly, my Uncle Anakin's heart is what led him down the path of the Dark Side. He loved his mother--and mine--too much."

She shook her head. "You can't love too much. Love is selfless. It thinks more of what's best for the other person than our own wants. He let his fear of death destroy what love he had for them. Shmi Skywalker never would have wanted to see what her son became, and your mother would rather have died in childbirth than be his excuse for becoming Darth Vader. If he'd been acting out of love for either of them, he would have stopped what he was doing. He would have been willing to let them go."

They were reaching the main entrance to the temple now, and both paused, nodding to the sentries on duty before walking out into the jungle. The humidity hit Isaly like a physical wall. She was well used to heat, even debilitating heat, but the dry air of Tatooine was nothing like the oppressive, moisture-laden climate of this world. A light rain was falling, and she held out her hand, letting the drops pool in her palm, then spill down her wrist. Ani watched with the same wonder that she felt, and they let the conversation fade for the moment.

"It's going to pour soon," he said.

"I don't think I mind," she replied thoughtfully.

"Mom used to talk about Naboo sometimes. The idea of rain always made Aunt Beru a little uncomfortable," he related.

"You get used to it," Isaly shrugged. "Do you remember rain? What it felt like, I mean?"

"Vaguely," he replied. "I don't remember a whole lot. Just…certain moments…certain people. Mostly things connected to Uncle Anakin. My memory of anything before Tatooine is like…have you ever seen a broken piece of glass? A mirror, maybe?"

She gave a slow nod and reached half unconsciously to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. When glass broke, it tended to shatter at one point and the stress of the break caused a web of smaller fractures to spread out like a web. If the impact that caused the original break was bad enough, sometimes those fractures also developed stress points and shattered again, continuing the process in a network of ever tinier breaks.

"Anakin Skywalker is the center of the break. Anything that happened along the cracks, anything that has to do with him is burned in so strongly that I can't forget it, even though I was young enough that the memories should otherwise have faded. Everything else is…there…but I can't see it clearly," he explained.

"I think I understand," she said with another nod.

"There's something else too," he added reluctantly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"My father told me that, just before he went to Utapau, Master Windu cautioned him that my destiny was tied to Anakin's and to Palpatine's. I think the reason for that is…well, the mirror metaphor can be extended into the way that certain people and events are connected in the Force. My Uncle Anakin still the first stress point. One of the fault lines that extended from it shattered again when he saved my life. In the Force, I'm a point along the break that he made--that he is. It's why we're connected, why Vader can't deceive me about himself."

Isaly sucked in a breath and took a long moment to absorb that revelation. If that was true, then Vader was as much responsible for her husband's life than his parents. "That's why you're afraid."

"Jedi and Sith use the Force in much the same way. I think it's just a question of which feelings they rely on, which ones they listen to and which ones they decide are problematic," Ani said. "Jedi rely on peace and serenity, Sith on hate and anger. But fear love are also both part of person's heart."

"But love is balanced. If you allow your fears to control you, they become obsessions. Love can turn into obsession, too, Ani but if it does, it isn't love anymore," Isaly pointed out.

"Maybe," he said slowly. "I don't know. Qui-Gon says he thinks that I'm in danger of becoming obsessed with Vader."

"Are you?"

"If I was, I don't think I could tell," he said.

"Well, I don't think you are," she told him.

"You're my wife," he reminded her.

"I'm also not blind," she shrugged. "I love you, Anakin. Enough to tell you the truth. People who are obsessed don't' act rationally, they don't listen to anyone but themselves or the people who feed their obsessions, and they don't stop and question their own motives."

"Don't you think it's strange that I can still say I miss him? I'd give my life to save him if I had to, Isaly," he admitted.

"Of course you would," she smiled. "Do you think your father would have hesitated to sacrifice his own life if he thought that by doing it he could have brought his friend back from the Dark Side?"

"No," he shook his head.

"You're the man he made you, Ani. You've been watching him give of himself all of your life. Why should you feel any differently?"

"But I have you and the kids to think about," he sighed.

"He had your mother, you and the twins. I hope that you can save him, Ani, and more than anything, I hope you can do it without _anyone_ dying. But if it comes to that, your children will know that their father loved _them_ enough to put an end to Darth Vader."


	92. Everything You See

Ani and Isaly came back home utterly drenched and stifling laughter. Their parents, who hadn't moved in the entire time that they'd been gone, looked up at them in mild surprise. It took a moment for Obi Wan to register what the younger couple were giggling about, then he cast an amused glance at his wife. Padme was already smiling. Rain was something that Ani hadn't experienced since before they'd left Coruscant when he was four. Isaly had probably never seen at all before the Kenobis relocated here.

"Have fun?" Padme asked.

The pair nodded, and Isaly gave Ani's right arm an affectionate squeeze. "I'm going to go get a shower," she said.

Ani nodded again and drifted off to find a towel and a change of clothing. Obi Wan found something oddly comforting in listening to the two of them move around as he and Padme went back to their reading. It was familiar--almost normal. After a few minutes, though, he began to sense sadness in his wife and looked up from the reader in his hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I miss Beru," she explained.

"Would it surprise you if I said I missed Owen?" he sighed.

"No," she shook her head.

The Lars' had been their friends for nearly twenty years. Padme and Beru had always been much more visibly close, but two men who lived and worked as near to one another as Owen and Obi Wan could not have done so without learning to respect and even care for one another. They had butted heads as a matter of course, and in a strange way, the roughness of their relationship had come to seal the friendship between their wives even more tightly. Through all their disagreements and Owen's grumbling, though, both men had learned to value and rely on one another. Owen had always hated the Kenobis' determination to one day take up the war against the Emperor again. Beru was more inclined to accept that part of them, but she had also dreaded the day when Lila and Ben Kenobi would disappear.

Obi Wan and Padme had always hoped that they could do just that--take the children and simply vanish, returning to the lives they had left with no one the wiser. That way, no harm would come to Owen and Beru, and the Kenobis might be able to visit again when the war was truly over. They knew that Ani really wanted to go back to the farm someday, and they were sure that Beru and Owen would always welcome him. All of that was irrelevant now; the farm and their friends were gone. Lila and Ben were gone too, and both Obi Wan and Padme knew that the only way to make the loss of their friends mean something was to take up their old lives again and finish what they had left undone.

A decade or so ago, they might still have had to discuss it. Now, a conversation seemed superfluous. They knew one another too well; each understood how the other thought and what the other believed. There were differences in those belief systems, certain things about which even now they didn't completely agree, but when it came to what must be done now and how they would honor the memories of Owen and Beru, they were in complete accord. Obi Wan didn't need the Force to tell him that. He set down the reader and took her hand.

It wasn't the same hand he'd held twenty years ago. Her skin had roughened with long exposure to the wind and sand of Tatooine. The fingers that interlocked with his now were calloused from years of labor. He thought, though, that his own hands must have changed just as much. Hers had changed in a way he admired, but he wondered suddenly if she could say the same for his.

Almost as soon as the thought entered his mind, she glanced down at the arm of his chair where their linked fingers now rested. A thoughtful smile touched her lips, and she reached over with her free hand to run a finger lightly over his knuckles.

"I think what I like about them best is that you've learned to get them dirty," she murmured.

Ani crossed the room again, still absently toweling his damp hair as he walked into his children's room, and Obi Wan winced as the thought of hands took on an entirely different meaning. The significance struck Padme at the same time, and she quietly drew in a breath. He pressed the back of her hand to his cheek in a quick gesture of comfort, then pushed himself out of the chair.

"I think he and I need to talk," he said.

"Okay," she nodded.

He followed Ani into the kids' room and found his son leaning on the twins' crib with his chin on his arms. Obi Wan walked up beside him and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. They studied the sleeping infants in silence for a while, each content to remain lost in his own contemplations about this pair.

Obi Wan had been both surprised an honored by the choice of names that Ani and Isaly had made. They had said from the outset that they knew what the twins would be called, but they hadn't told anyone else. Padme told him that she knew at least what they would name the older one, but she hadn't been sure about the younger brother. They had speculated about the name Owen for him, and Obi Wan had honestly expected Qui-Gon for the older one. Both of those names had seemed fitting to him, and when he suggested them to his wife, she only smiled.

The more he thought about it--the more he considered who his son was and how Ani had always perceived the relationship between himself and Anakin Skywalker--the more he realized that there wasn't any other choice that Ani would have made for twin boys. He had always seen the best in Obi Wan and Anakin--the old "Kenobi and Skywalker" routine had been something real for him, and he had believed foremost in The Hero With No Fear. The boys' names were a reflection of their father's battered hopes, and they were, perhaps a quiet statement of defiance toward Palpatine. Whether or not Kenobi and Skywalker would ever be brothers again, Anakin and Obi-Wan already were. This time, the bond would not be broken.

-----

A smile curved Ani's lips as he picked up on the direction of his father's thoughts. Luke had guessed very quickly what names that he and Isaly had chosen for their sons. The two brothers had found it both mystifying and typical that their father had no idea. Padme had shared their amusement about Obi-Wan, but even she hadn't been entirely sure what his twin's name would be. Qui-Gon and Owen would both have been plausible choices, as would Bail or even Ruwee. His parents had guessed each of those over the course of Isaly's pregnancy, and it was only because Ani and Isaly had refused to give either positive or negative answers that Padme hadn't been able to narrow her choices down enough to guess.

It was understandable to him that his father couldn't figure it out. Even though Obi Wan knew him better than anyone in the family--possibly better than anyone at all--he was far too modest to have entertained the possibility that someone might want to name a child after him. Even now, he saw it more as a tribute to Anakin Skywalker, or to the way that Ani had seen "Kenobi and Skywalker" as a boy, than a sign of the esteem that his son held for him.

He was right, of course, that Ani had wanted to honor the heroes of his childhood. He had also wanted young Anakin's name to be reflective of his own continued belief in Anakin Skywaker and the hope that Kenobi and Skywalker might yet be made brothers again. Beyond all that, though, Obi-Wan's name was a gesture of respect toward the man who had been his mentor, parent, and closest friend for as far back as he could remember.

Padme had immediately understood that. Ani had been somewhat surprised that she didn't also grasp that there could be only one name for the younger brother. He supposed, though, that he could understand why she didn't pick it up right away. The day that Luke and Leia were born, Ani had told her that he'd "seen" Obi-Wan and Anakin as brothers again, but it had been natural for her to assume he'd been talking about his father and Uncle Anakin. Ani himself, at five years old, had lacked the verbal ability to explain further, and the truth was, he hadn't been entirely sure what the dream meant. His mother soon had more pressing matters to think about with Luke and Leia's arrival approaching, and Ani had seen no reason to bring the matter up again once they were born.

Before Yoda and the Kenobis had parted ways, the ancient master had cautioned Ani against mentioning what he had seen, telling him that the most difficult part about seeing the future was knowing that some of what he saw must be kept hidden to prevent the risk of altering the vision. Still unsure who the two young Jedi in his dream actually _were_, Ani had been puzzled by Yoda's advice, but he had done as the Master bid him. It wasn't until Isaly told him that she was pregnant with Shmi that he began to realize who Obi-Wan and Anakin might be.

To her credit, Padme had put the pieces together as soon as the twins were actually born and their names given. Unlike Ani, though, she had never seen his twins in her dreams. He had wondered about that, but then he also knew that her gift in the Force had not been honed as his had been. Her dreams were largely triggered by danger or trauma, and they tended to center around her husband and Anakin Skywalker. They had faded, too, once Luke and Leia were born, almost as if the twins themselves were the point of convergence for all the various lines and tangled threads of possible future that Padme's dreams represented.

Both Anakin Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi had loved her. Both, at separate points, had dreamt of futures in which it was Anakin, not Obi Wan who married her. The crux of Anakin's jealousy, the point which had allowed Darth Sidious to drive a wedge between him and Obi Wan, was his belief that Obi Wan had robbed him of that destiny. Padme herself had never had a prescient dream or any sort of Force vision until Anakin was old enough to actually be a potential rival for Obi Wan instead of just a little boy with a crush. From what Padme said, her dreams had been at their most intense between the time that she returned to Coruscant for the vote on the Military Creation Act and the Battle of Geonosis. They had lessened somewhat once she and Obi Wan were married, as if some of the turmoil surrounding Luke and Leia had been resolved since it was then more probable that they would be of Kenobi descent rather than part of the Skywalker bloodline.

She still had occasional visions after that, but they were usually variations of the Mustafar and Death Star duel, as if when present events shifted the probability of outcomes for those duels, the Force manifested that shift in her nightmares. The only notable exception was the dream in which Asajj Ventress had killed Obi Wan just before Ani's birth, but even that fit the pattern, since death at the hands of a Dark Jedi would have entirely prevented either duel between Obi Wan and Darth Vader from taking place. She had, in fact, seen Vader stop Ventress from killing Obi Wan, which Ani supposed was exactly what had taken place.

The frequency and intensity of her dreams increased again while she was pregnant with Luke and Leia, but Ani suspected that the reason for this was the twins themselves. Since she and Obi Wan had even taken surgical precautions to prevent a second pregnancy, it was fairly obvious that the Force had some unique purpose in store for them. All three of the Kenobi children had been given midcholorian tests on Alderaan, and while Ani's count did register higher than his father's, both of the twins showed Force potential far greater than his. Carrying both of them was bound to have increased their mother's sensitivity through fetal blood exchange, much the same way that Isaly had begun to manifest an apparently latent Force sensitivity while carrying Ani's children.

Once Luke and Leia were born, Padme's midichlorian count stabilized, though it seemed to be higher than it had been before. She had never been tested, since the old Jedi Order would not have trained her, and in the wake of Order 66, she had felt no desire to become a Jedi Knight. Her dreams tapered off.

Ani's, however, did not. While Padme's nightmares had always centered on Obi Wan and Anakin, her son's dreams tended to encompass all of the family. He still couldn't always interpret them, and in fact he had learned not to try. More than once, though, he had seen what his brother and sister would become. He had seen his sons as Jedi brothers who, along with their cousins, would be at the forefront of a new Jedi Order. He had even seen Isaly. The only two people whose futures remained almost entirely hidden from him were himself and Shmi.

His own future, he suspected, would remain in turmoil until after the crisis of Anakin Skywalker's life had been resolved. He was the one whose life was most intimately bound with Vader's, and Vader was himself a vergence in the Force. His daughter, however, was another matter. He turned to face the sleeping child now, pressing a hand to his lips in thought. Chaos and uncertainty surrounded her in the Force, a darkness he couldn't explain, yet which he felt emanated from a different source than the darkness which Obi Wan had once felt surrounding _him_. Conversely, though, he had also glimpsed great light around her, and the contradiction confused him.

Obi Wan followed his gaze, and the two Jedi stood studying the little girl on whom so many of their hopes had come to rest. Ani wasn't sure how much either of his parents had sensed about her future, or the twins' for that matter, but he understood some of the things they wanted for their grandchildren. Leia, Luke, and Ani had all chosen to involve themselves in some way with the war that their parents were fighting in defense of democracy. Padme and Obi Wan were nothing less than proud of their children's choices, but for Little One, Obi-Too, and Junior, what they wanted was peace--the freedom to choose lives as farmers, teachers, doctors, even pilots or spacers while they carried out whatever roles they found for themselves in the post-Imperial political arena or the New Jedi Order. Largely, they were the same things that they had wished for their own children before the fall of the Republic, and as he stood between his sons and daughter, Ani fervently hoped that this time, those dreams might be realized.


	93. I Am Not Above

"Qui-Gon says that her training should begin soon," Ani said softly.

"What do you think?" Obi Wan inquired.

"I don't know, Dad," his son gave his head a dubious shake.

"In the old Order, she would have been placed in a training group at this age," he murmured thoughtfully. "They functioned rather like the way I used to teach you and the twins before Leia left for Alderaan."

"I remember," Ani said automatically.

His father glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "You remember what?"

"Uncle…Uncle and I sat in with the Bear Clan the day before--the day you left for Utapau," Ani explained, stumbling awkwardly over mention of the massacre.

Obi Wan rubbed his eyes and let out a slow breath. "Oh."

"Anyway, go on. You were saying something," Ani prompted.

"Well, all of the younglings would have been at approximately the same level in their training. Granted, you were somewhat ahead of Luke and Leia, but it couldn't be helped," said Obi Wan. "Luke is…well, certainly not ready to face the Trials of Knighthood, but far more skilled in the Jedi Arts than she is. They have completely different needs. The same is true for Leia in comparison to either one of them."

"Is Leia going to continue her training now?" Ani raised his eyebrows.

"She asked me about it this morning," Obi Wan explained. "She says that she thinks it would help her to feel more connected, grounded in the family. I can't say I disagree."

"Well, how is that going to work?" frowned Ani. "They both have their duties in the Rebellion, and they aren't always able to be assigned together."

"I don't know, I haven't figured that out yet," admitted Obi Wan. "Luke's training is problematic enough."

"What do you mean?" asked Ani.

"Well, even supposing I can convince him to continue with his training, I can't realistically be following him around everywhere. I'm not a member of Red Squadron, and he feels that the needs of the Rebellion are paramount at the moment," Obi Wan explained.

"He said that," Ani nodded. "But I think there's something else going on with him, too."

"He seems to feel that he isn't cut out to be a Jedi," sighed his father.

"What?" Ani dropped his voice to a whisper in order to keep from shouting. "Of course he is!"

"He thinks that he should have gone along with us to face Vader on the Death Star," explained Obi Wan.

"That's ridiculous. You're his Master; you told him to stay with the droids. If he'd gone with us, no one would have been there to rescue Leia. There wouldn't have been time," Ani said.

"That's what I told him," Obi Wan replied.

"I'll talk to him in the morning," Ani shook his head in disbelief.

"Let it go for now, son," advised Obi Wan. "This is something he needs to work out on his own."

"I still don't think a little reminder of the reality of the situation would hurt," Ani said.

"If you feel that strongly about it," Obi Wan acquiesced.

"I just don't want to see him making a choice like that out of misplaced guilt. He did exactly what any Jedi should have done in his situation," Ani said.

"But he needs to see that for himself. Nothing you or I say is going to make him believe it," his father replied patiently.

Ani gave a long sigh. "So, what did you tell Leia?"

"I said of course I would finish her training," smiled Obi Wan. "The problem is that she is as committed to continuing with her other responsibilities now as your brother is."

"Jedi training shouldn't be a side-activity for either of them," Ani bit his lip in thought.

"No, but you did manage to work a moisture farm quite well for eighteen years while training as my Padawan. Not to mention helping me with the twins," his father pointed out.

"Only because it was necessary," frowned Ani. "Like you training all three of us together when we were little. It worked because it had to, but do you really think it's the ideal model for Jedi apprenticeship?"

"Ani, I don't think there is an ideal model," Obi Wan said. "One of the reasons I had to leave the Jedi and marry your mother, raise a family, was to be able to recognize how rigid the Order had become. However we decide to structure a new Jedi Order, I don't want to simply re-create the problems that enabled Sidious to deceive and undermine us for so long. There has to be room to include those who choose family life, and allow them to address the needs of their families. Whatever else I am to them, I am the twins' father first. I have to meet their needs as my children even when it comes to teaching them the ways of the Force."

"I know that, Dad," Ani said quietly. He went back to watching Shmi, and Obi Wan touched his shoulder again.

"Did I ever tell you that Master Yoda came to us when you were born and offered to train you as his own Padawan?"

"No," Ani shook his head.

"Your mother and I didn't want to send you to the temple. We wanted to raise you ourselves and have you know us as Mom and Dad. I really had no intention of teaching you the Jedi Way myself," his father explained.

Ani turned quickly, regarding him with wide eyes. "You didn't?"

"Not because I didn't want you to learn, but because I was afraid that if I tried to teach you as I had once taught Anakin Skywalker, we would…become so much Master and Apprentice that neither of us were truly certain what it meant to be father and son," said Obi Wan.

"That's not it," Ani shook his head. "I--I'm just not ready to teach anyone."

"You've helped me teach Luke for years," Obi Wan reminded him.

"That's different," Ani replied.

"How?"

"Luke is still not my Padawan. If something's wrong, if…he doesn't understand something…it's you he goes to. And it should be. I'm not qualified to be anyone's role model."

"You're a father, Anakin. You're already a role model whether you want to be one or not," Obi Wan told him. "And your brother and sister have always looked up to you."

"I know that too," Ani sighed again.

"Son, you didn't fail on the Death Star either," Obi Wan assured him.

"I was distracted. I almost got us both killed," Ani shook his head.

"That isn't what this really about, is it?" asked his father gently.

Slowly, Ani allowed a mental wall to drop, and his father began to sense a new turmoil in him. Anger, self-blame, even the desire for revenge against Vader for the loss of his limbs, Obi Wan would have understood and even expected. What he felt now, though, was something deeper, and he suspected that its beginnings ran much farther back than the Death Star. He supposed, though, that he should have realized that Vader would not be the one that Ani truly held responsible, even for the temple massacre.

"I think my first failure was when I didn't listen to you about going to Yoda. I should have gone. I should've trusted in the Force to bring me back to you in time," Ani said softly.

Obi Wan silently stroked his beard, considering the statement "It can't be changed, now, Ani. And didn't you once tell me that for a Jedi it's also necessary to let go of failure?"

"Yes, I did," nodded Ani. "But you also told me that Master Yoda could teach me things I would need to know."

"Are you saying you want to go to Dagobah now?" Obi Wan asked.

"Sooner or later, I'm going to have to face Vader again. As it stands right now, I'm still having trouble with my arms and legs. I think--I know--it's mostly because of who is responsible for the fact that I have them. I've been thinking about it for a while, and--well, Yoda counseled me after the temple. He--knows…" Ani said uncomfortably.

"And what about Shmi?" asked Obi Wan.

"I don't know. I had hoped that you would train her, teach her as you taught me," Ani murmured.

"Anakin, it would be my honor," Obi Wan said. "But right now, I think Luke and Leia both need me more."

"You're right," Ani agreed. "And, under the circumstances, we need as many fully trained Jedi as possible."

"Have you spoken to Isaly about any of this?" Obi Wan asked.

"Not about going to Dagobah," Ani shook his head. "I wouldn't go until the base has been evacuated anyway. I'm needed here for the moment."

"I still think you should talk it over with her," said his father.

"Yessir," Ani nodded.

Obi Wan smiled again and tightened his grip on the Knight's shoulder. "Come on, I think Little One is about to wake up. Let's talk somewhere else."

-----

Shmi waited until her father and grandfather had turned and started back toward the door before she opened her eyes. Ani absently passed a hand over a sensor plate by the door, and the dim lights faded completely out, leaving her in the dark as their backs retreated out of sight. She wasn't sure exactly when or how she had learned to pretend that she wasn't listening. It began as only way she could win a game of hide-and-seek with her Uncle Luke. Usually, he won right away, unless of course he was pretended not to know where she was, but that wasn't really fair anyway. One afternoon, quite by accident, she had found that, if she imagined hard enough that she was somewhere else, he would walk right past. It never worked for very long, but it did make the game more interesting, especially because Qui-Gon seemed amused by the whole thing. Then she had found that the same sort of thing worked in situations like this, when the grown-ups had things to talk about that she wasn't meant to hear. She could simply pretend not to be listening, and at least for a minute or two, even her grandfather might not realize that she had heard the conversation. With him, it really only worked if he didn't think she was paying attention to begin with, but he thought she was asleep at the moment, so all she had to do was stay still and pretend that she had never woken up.

She had half expected Obi Wan to turn around again as soon as she opened her eyes, but she didn't. Now she lay there, studying the darkness above her and mulling over the things she had heard and felt. She wasn't exactly sure what her father and grandfather meant about training and Padawans and Masters. There were times she heard Ani call Obi Wan "Master" instead of "Dad," and she realized that it had something to do with their being Jedi, but to her being a Jedi was just another part of having the name Kenobi. She had seen her father many times showing Uncle Luke things about the Force, and both Luke and Obi Wan had also shown her things for as long as she could remember. Yet it was her father she expected to one day call Master, and it had seemed to her that she would simply get to call him that when she was old enough. Nothing would change between them, just as Obi Wan continued to be "Dad" to Ani and Luke even though both would sometimes say "Master" instead.

It stung deeply that her father didn't want her to call him that. "Father" and "Master" were largely the same thing in her mind. They flowed into one another, and she wondered if she had done something to make Ani unwilling to be her Master. His feelings had been strange to her--even a little scary--but she didn't think any of that had to do with her. It seemed to all have to do with Darth Vader, which confused her even more than the Master and Padawan business. Hadn't it been Vader who hurt him? Hadn't he also been the one who tried to blow them all up? Wasn't he supposed to be up there in space somewhere, waiting for another chance to come here? Han had said that it was Vader who made sent all the ships up there to keep the Rebels stuck here. Why would her father be more worried about him than anyone else? What did it mean that Ani wouldn't be her Master? to It seemed, however, that being "Master" meant something else--that someone besides a person's father could become Master. If it wasn't going to Ani, though, then who?

Her grandfather was right. Uncle Luke and Aunt Leia both needed him now, and even if he wasn't the one that Shmi called Master, he was still the person who knew the most. He taught everyone about the Force. Could it be that her Uncle Luke would become Master to her? At the moment, he said he didn't want to be a Jedi at all--so how could he be anyone's Master? Aunt Leia still wanted to learn, but it would be a long time before she could teach what she knew. Which left…Qui-Gon…?

She sat up, biting her lip speculatively. The Jedi Spirit appeared at the foot of the bed and gave her a crooked half-smile. "No, Little One. Not me this time."


	94. Rest In Letting Go

Isaly walked back out from the 'fresher and slipped into the chair that her father-in-law had vacated. Padme had gone back to reading, but she looked up again, and Isaly offered her a weak smile. She felt suddenly tired, drained by the flux of emotions that she and Ani had been through in the past hour. Rain was a new and wonderful experience for both of them, and sharing it had brought the first real laughter they'd felt together since the Death Star. The conversation that they'd had before that still lingered, though, and the contrast was so stark that it made her own limbs feel heavy and difficult to manipulate.

Padme's hand smoothed over the back of hers, soothing and giving her a silent invitation to speak. She found that she wasn't at all sure what to say or where to begin. Ani was both her husband and her closest friend, much as Obi Wan was to Padme. When he suffered, she felt the pain just as keenly, and she knew that, despite his continued faith in Anakin Skywalker, he _would_ kill Vader if it became necessary. He knew it, too, and that knowledge lay like molten rock in the center of his heart. The last thing Ani wanted was to be set against the man who had been his hero. He had never lost the sense that he owed his life to his Uncle Anakin. To repay that debt with the point of a lightsaber might well destroy him.

Beyond that, she knew that there was something else troubling him. It was connected to Vader and to his own practice of the Jedi Arts, but she hadn't been able to guess more than that. She didn't want to press him. In the same way that she had known she couldn't force him to give up the secret of his real identity, she felt that she couldn't make him share whatever was bothering him now. Still, it made her slightly uneasy that he often kept things hidden from those who loved him most. He was so busy protecting them that he rarely allowed them to help _him_--except in the case of Obi Wan and Qui-Gon, whose opinions he tended to hold in higher esteem than hers or even his own.

He was naturally quiet, and there were times when his contemplative nature led him into brooding. Most of the time, she could bring him out of those moods, but even then he didn't always share what was on his mind. Since her pregnancy with Shmi, she had been better able to pick up the cause of those moods, and she assumed that the change had something to do with carrying a child from such a strong Force-sensitive bloodline. That ability seemed to have increased again with the twins, but she wasn't sure whether they were directly responsible or if she had simply become better at reading her husband.

Padme knew Obi Wan so well by now that she could tell he was getting a cold before he showed the slightest physical symptom. She said that it had far more to do with knowing him than with the Force. After all the years that the two of them had known one another, Isaly supposed that was completely possible, and he may not have known Ani for thirty-odd years, but they _were_ husband and wife.

"I wonder sometimes whether he'd tell me more if I was a Jedi," she confessed, biting her lip.

Padme regarded her thoughtfully for a few moments, then took a breath and said, "When Ani was four years old, Dad took him to meet Master Yoda at the Jedi Temple. When I came home from the Senate that day, I asked him what he and Yoda talked about. He told me it was 'Force stuff' and I wouldn't understand. I think he's always seen being a Jedi that way. It's something…special that he shares with his Dad."

"Well, it is," Isaly nodded. "I don't want to take that away from him. I know how close he and Dad have always been. It's just that--I don't know--he compartmentalizes things too much. Not that he doesn't care what I think, or want me to be included, but I get the feeling he's keeping things from me. Or…at least…keeping _something_ from me because it's related to his being Jedi and he thinks I'd be upset or something. I…"

"What?" Padme encouraged.

"Well, it's like he doesn't trust me, Mom," she sighed. "I feel so disloyal even saying that. We talked about Vader tonight, and I guess I should just be glad that he's finally opening up about that. I was at first. He seemed to feel better. Walking in the rain was fun, and I don't think we've laughed together since we left home. There's something _else_, though--something he's trying to protect me from."

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you that Dad's been thinking the same thing lately?" Padme asked.

"No, that just scares me," Isaly replied. "He tells Dad everything. The things he said about Vader tonight--about himself and Vader being connected in the Force and that idea scaring _him_--if he's not being open with Dad about what's going on…"

Padme nodded slowly. "Well, you said yourself that Ani compartmentalizes. I think all Jedi do…or did. Certain feelings are good…Light Side…while others are Dark Side to them. They spend so much of their lives learning to curtail their own emotions to avoid things that would lead them to the Dark Side, it's hard for them to be open with people. It took a long time for Dad to even start getting beyond that. In some ways, he hasn't. I don't think he ever will completely. He's been indoctrinated with those ideas since he was younger than Shmi."

"Well, it's not completely wrong, is it? I mean, the Jedi Order stood for thousands of years. In all that time, they must have found valid reasons for the things they believed, and those beliefs did serve them until Sidious came along. Look how hard he had to work to destroy them," Isaly frowned.

"It's not wrong at all," Padme smiled. "And Dad knows far more about the ways of the Force than I would ever claim to. But I do know a few things about being alive, and I haven't been the wife of a Jedi Master all these years without learning a something about the Force. The problem with the way old Jedi tended to look at things was that it's not really complete. It cuts them off from some of the fundamental aspects of what it means to be alive, and it tends to create walls between the Jedi and the rest of the galaxy. If the Force is what binds the galaxy together, if the key to understanding and doing the will of the Force is balance, then the goal of the Jedi should be unity with the whole of the galaxy, not just some metaphysical concept of unity with the Force. Dad's viewpoint has changed quite a lot since he first started teaching Ani on Coruscant, but people tend to hold to things they learn first. So, Ani's outlook on the Jedi Way is very different from what it would have been if he'd been trained in the Old Order, but it's still closer to that than what yours might be."

"But I'm not a Jedi anyway," Isaly reminded her.

"Neither am I," Padme lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. "I don't think the Jedi are the only ones who can think and learn, even about the Force. It doesn't belong to them. Even if we're not Jedi, we're going to have as much influence on the next few generations of Jedi Knights as our husbands. WE should have some understanding of what it is that makes the Jedi who they are. And Ani does trust you. He values what you think and what you say to him very much."

"I still have no idea how to help him," sighed Isaly.

"You may not be able to for a while. He's going to have to decide to open up, and until he does that, you need to wait," Padme replied.

"But--" Isaly broke off with a sigh of frustration.

"Isaly, honey, trust _him_. You want Ani to trust you enough to be honest with you instead of trying to protect you. Trust him to work through this and tell you when he's ready," encouraged Padme.

"That's easier said than done," Isaly remarked.

"It's not supposed to be easy," Padme told her. "One of the things I've always loved Dad for the most is the way he treated me after I decided that we should end our friendship. I knew it was going to be a difficult choice--I think I probably even knew it was the wrong choice. He could have made it a lot more painful by trying to change my mind or pursuing me before I was ready. He didn't. He just left the door open and let me go. There weren't any bad feelings or animosity, which tends to happen a lot when couples break or…in this case when a friendship ends…so when I was ready let him back into my life, there was nothing standing in the way. It's so much easier to be open with someone who's always accepted you--even when you're being stupid."

Isaly laughed softly. "Mom, I think that's the first time I've ever heard anyone call Padme Amidala Kenobi stupid."

"Well, maybe more people should," she winked.

"I might have a few things to say about that," remarked Obi Wan as he and Ani came back from checking on the kids.

"Well, you just never mind, Master Jedi," Padme told him teasingly. "You and Ani go on with your talk and let Isaly and I finish ours."

"Yes, dear," Obi Wan smiled. He casually slung an arm around Ani's shoulders, guiding him into the kitchen. Ani returned the gesture, and Isaly felt her smile fade as the two Jedi walked companionably off.

Padme waited until they were comfortably out of earshot and then slipped her hand onto Isaly's again. "What about you?"

The younger woman blinked and turned to look at her in surprise. "Me?"

"We've talked all about Ani. What about you, Isaly?"

"I…" she bit her lip. "I'm fine, Mom."

Padme tilted her head knowingly. "Who's not trusting who now?"

"I--I don't know how Dad can do that without flinching," she whispered, her vision blurring with tears.

"It bothers him too," Padme assured her.

"He doesn't show it," Isaly said.

"He's a Jedi Master. And he knows that Ani really needs--"

"I know that too!" Isaly cut her off. She surged to her feet and turned, scrubbing her face with her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Let's go outside," Padme urged, nodding toward the door.

Isaly rolled her eyes, continuing her vain struggle against tears. "Why? It's not like he can't tell everything I feel anyway."

"Because otherwise we're going to wake the kids," Padme said evenly. She stood up gracefully, offering her daughter-in-law a hand, and Isaly slowly took it.

She let Padme lead her out into the hallway, where she broke away and stalked down a few paces. The she spun and crossed her arms, staring through a glistening sheen of tears at the door to their quarters. Padme crossed the corridor as well, laying a hand on her shoulder Isaly bit her lip fruitlessly, but it did nothing to stifle the tears now.

"You know something, Mom?" she asked shakily.

Padme shook her head.

"I'm glad I'm not a Jedi," declared Isaly as the tears finally spilled down her cheeks.

"Why?" asked Padme quietly.

"Because I _hate_ Anakin Skywalker! He was a selfish _bastard_ and I hate what he's done to my husband!" Isaly sobbed.


	95. When You Think You're Alone

Padme wrapped her arms around Isaly, silently guiding the younger woman's head onto her shoulder. There was no response she could make, no argument or comfort she could offer. Anakin's hatred of Obi Wan ran as deeply as their love for one another once had. It might be said that the two emotions were merely opposite sides of one another. For all that, though, she had never imagined that Anakin would harm her son, the one person whose love for him had remained entirely unchanged since the night the Republic fell.

Though the sound was muffled against her shoulder, Isaly's sobs shook them both. Padme rested her cheek against her daughter-in-law's hair, murmuring soft, wordless sounds of encouragement and comfort. After a few moment, Isaly tried to draw back in apology, but her mother-in-law held her firmly.

"Cry," she urged. "Just cry. Don't apologize. Don't fight it."

Isaly fell back against her shoulder, now completely lost in grief, anguish, and anger, all of which washed over Padme in a churning torrent. She stood in the center of it, unmoving, until Isaly had exhausted herself, then held her for a while longer. She felt Obi Wan and Ani both appear in the doorway behind her, but she didn't look toward them.

When Isaly was ready, they both turned and found their husbands still watching from the door. If Padme hadn't been able to sense her son's anguish and horror in the Force, his expression would have been far more than enough to tell her how he felt. Obi Wan's eyes held only compassion, but she knew that he ached for both of the children. Ani may have been their son by blood, but Isaly had become no less their daughter in the last three years.

Ani took a step back and she slipped in after him, leaving Padme and Obi Wan alone in the hallway . He laid his hands on her shoulders, searching her face, and she nodded reassuringly. They followed the kids inside, and both smiled as Ani wrapped his arm around Isaly.

Without discussing it, the group made their way into the cramped kitchen, scraping back chairs at the makeshift family table. Padme sighed to herself. She had insisted upon having a real kitchen here, and she was glad to have begun including Luke's friends in the morning meal, but wherever they ended up next, she hoped that she would actually have one with enough _room_. She realized, of course, that kitchen space was a rather superficial thing to be concerned with at the moment, but at the same time she found that she meant it. The kitchen had always been a central location to her family, both before and after her marriage to Obi Wan. With Leia back, the twins' arrival, and the presence of both Wedge and Han--despite the fact that the smuggler still stubbornly kept himself on the edges of their companionship--the family had effectively doubled in size, while the kitchen had shrunk.

"How long do you think it will take for Luke to get permission for Red Group to fly cover for the _Falcon?"_ Ani asked.

"A day or two at most. Your mother's a priority to the Rebel Alliance, no one should object," Obi Wan replied.

"Then what?"

"Well, High Command has already requested additional support for the evacuation. Hopefully that's approved before the Empire decides to stop trying to smoke us out and actually invades," said Obi Wan.

"And if not?" Isaly asked.

"Then we evacuate," the Jedi Master told her with a shrug.

------

With her family gathered in the kitchen, Shmi slipped silently out of bed. Qui-Gon had disappeared by then, and even her grandfather was too busy to notice her. She paused for a few seconds in the doorway, frowning to herself at the conversation. Vader. Invasions. Ships and soldiers. These were the kind of things that everyone seemed to talk about here--not like home on Tatooine. She didn't understand everything they said, but she knew enough to understand what might happen if those ships in space decided to come down here.

She also knew that her mother was upset. Isaly was angrier, in fact, than Shmi had ever seen or felt before. Her father was sad and worried, too, but beneath that, she could feel painful clash in their emotions. Isaly hated Vader; Ani loved him. Isaly blamed him; Ani blamed…her frown deepened and her bottom lip jutted out in puzzled concentration as she discovered that she didn't know who or _what_ the chilling entity was that her father held responsible for his injuries. She shrank away from it, not wanting to know, suddenly unsure whether she was more frightened by her parents' discordant feelings or by the black shroud she had just brushed against in her father's thoughts.

More than anyone else in the family, including her grandfather, Ani and Isaly meant safety for her. They weren't _supposed_ to clash in the Force. They might disagree, but even if those arguments made the room stormy, Shmi could always feel that they were together in the Force, flowing into each other. Now there were parts of them trying to pull in opposite directions--which was both confusing and hurtful. It was a far deeper hurt, too, than the stinging slap of she had received when Ani said that he would not allow her to call him Master. Even a fleeting brush with whatever lurked in her father's thoughts, though, was more scary than seeing her Uncle Luke attacked by Sand People before they had left Tatooine.

She closed her eyes, imagining herself still huddled under her blanket in the bedroom. Firmly affixing that picture in her thoughts, she poked her head further out, looked toward the kitchen once to be sure that the adults hadn't noticed anything, then darted for the door. It slid open as she reached it, though she never touched the sensor panel, and she stepped out into the hallway without hesitation.

She made no conscious decision about the direction in which she turned, and though the wide stone corridor was full of strange shadows and her footsteps echoed with every step, she felt no fear. She didn't need to know where she was going or even what else she might encounter here; she knew who it was that she needed to find, and that was enough.

She had only wandered for a few minutes when she turned a corner and found that very person at the end of the next hallway. He was soaking wet, and his hair and clothes were plastered to his body. Beside him, Chewbacca was also drenched, and the pair were bickering about whether wet Wookiee smelled worse than wet Solo.

"Han! Chewie!" Shmi exclaimed, racing toward them. She flung her arms around the smuggler's waist before he could recover from the shock of seeing her and pressed her cheek against his sodden midriff. Then, frowning, she pulled back again and wrinkled her nose as she looked up at him. "Why you all wet?"

"Because--nevermind!" he shook his head. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you," she replied.

"You're supposed to be in bed," he scolded.

"Don't like bed," she shook her head emphatically.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. "Right. Well, come on, now I gotta take you home."

"I stay with you," she shook her head again.

"You can't," Han said.

"Can too!" she insisted.

"Can not!"

Chewie let out a huge, barking laugh, and Han shot him a glare. Shmi took a step back and raised her eyebrows at the pair. "You guys weird."

"I'm not weird!" Han exclaimed.

"Are too," she nodded.

"Look, kid, I ain't doin' that again. And you gotta go home," Han said, planting his hands sternly on his hips.

Shmi's chest tightened as she realized that he meant it. She stared up at him, her vision blurring as her eyes filled up with tears. She felt her lower lip tremble, and Han sighed louder, raking his hand through his hair.

"Aw, c'mon!"

"You mad at me too…?"

"No! I ain't mad at you! Will you stop that!"

"What…?"

"That!" Han waved a hand at her impatiently. "Don't cry!"

She scrubbed her face with her hands and sniffed back her tears, determined to stop them. If her father was already displeased enough with her to make him not want to be her Master, and even Qui-Gon had refused, the last thing she wanted to do was make Han mad at her. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay. Much better," he said.

She nodded back. "Better."

"Now, what's goin' on? Why doesn't anybody know you're out here?" Han asked.

"They talking," she shrugged.

"Well, it's not gonna take Ani long to figure out you're gone. Come on," he said, holding out his hand.

She shook her head stubbornly. "Don't want to."

"Kid," Han sighed. "Your folks are gonna worry about you."

"Not my Daddy," she shook her head.

"What??" Han's eyes suddenly became about three sizes too big for his head and he stared down at her in disbelief.

"He say I can't be his Apprentice," Shmi explained.

"Well, uh…maybe he thinks you're too young or something," suggested Han.

"I old enough!" Shmi insisted. "G'apa say so!"

"Well…maybe he figures somebody else can train you better," Han attempted.

"Nobody else want me either," she sighed.

"Aw, kid, that ain't true," Han sighed.

"It's not…?" she asked hopefully.

"No. Okay. Look. Uh… I'll tell you what. I'll prove it!"

"How?"

"You can be _my_ apprentice!" Han declared. "How's that?"

"You not a Jedi!" Shmi shook her head.

"So?" Han challenged.

"Are you crazy?" Chewie interrupted.

"What?" asked Han, rolling his eyes. "She already follows me around everywhere. Who cares if she's my apprentice?"

"Only Jedi can have a Apprentice," Shmi covered her face with her hand.

"See, now that's the whole problem with you Jedi," Han said with a snort.

She dropped her hand, looking up at him again in confusion. "What?"

"You think you're the only ones good enough to teach people stuff," Han said, dropping to one knee. He held her chin lightly between two fingers. "I'll tell ya something kid. I can teach you a thing or two about life. The kinda stuff you'll never learn from a Jedi."

"Like what?" she frowned.

"Can't tell ya that," Han shook his head.

"Why?" she raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"Because he doesn't know anything," Chewie snorted.

Han craned his neck to glare at the Wookiee again. "Do me a favor, huh?"

"What?" asked Chewie.

"Don't do me any favors," Han rolled his eyes. Turning back to Shmi again, he said, "Because, kid. You gotta be my apprentice before I tell ya my secrets."

Shmi looked steadily back at him and narrowed her eyes, considering the statement. Maybe he could have an apprentice. Masters did always tell secrets to their apprentices. And after all, her Aunt Leia had said that Han was smarter than he looked.

"Okay," she nodded slowly. "I your apprentice now."

"Good," Han said, getting to his feet again. "Now. First rule of being an apprentice is you do what I say, right?"

"Right," she agreed firmly.

"So. I'm telling you, you gotta go home and go to bed," Han said, holding out his hand expectantly.

"You trick me!" she exclaimed, stomping her foot angrily.

Han smirked. "Lesson one. Never trust a Corellian."


	96. A Place At The Table

Leia stood somewhat nervously outside of her adoptive father's quarters. She had seen him earlier in the evening, having stopped by the say goodnight after dinner with the Kenobis--her family, she corrected herself with an irritated shake of her head. Now, though, something told her that she should be here again.

Obi Wan and Padme made it quite clear that Bail was always welcome, but lately he seemed to be appearing less often. It hadn't worried her because he had at least been eating in the officer's mess rather than alone in his quarters. He had always felt that sharing meals with the Rebellion's military command staff helped make him a more approachable and thus effective leader. Like Leia, he also felt a trifle uncomfortable in their company now, despite the fact that they had been his friends since Palpatine had been Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.

Being in their quarters now was a rather painful reminder of all that he had so recently lost--not only his home and his people, but his only child as well. When he had first brought Padme and Isaly to Yavin 4, it had been entirely natural that the two women would want to stay together. Isaly was pregnant and close to her time; she needed her mother-in-law close by. Then in the wake of Ani's ordeal on the Death Star, it had been beneficial for all of them to be in each other's company, and with the infant twins added to the mix, the younger couple had been more than a little relieved at the continued proximity of Obi Wan and Padme. Luke, as a member of Red Squadron, had moved down to the pilots' billeting on the first level to be with the rest of his friends, but rather than growing more distant from the rest of the family, he had somehow managed to draw his wingmates into the fold.

While Leia was glad that her brothers were able to draw the kind of strength and purpose that they seemed to derive from their parents' company, she knew the atmosphere just wasn't always comfortable for Bail. What made matters worse was that he actually approved of Leia's spending as much time with them as she could. He'd told her that he had always known that he would eventually have to give her back to her parents, and he didn't want her relationship with him to become a barrier between her and the rest of her family.

He also hadn't expected to lose his homeworld in the process. Leia had been legally adopted into the House of Organa, and even knowing that she was not his child, she still felt as if she belonged to him and the other survivors of Alderaan's destruction. She was the closest thing he now had to family, and she loved him more for his selflessness in wanting to make her reunion with the Kenobis as painless as possible.

The door slid open, breaking her reverie, and Bail raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sight of her. She smiled a little, and he stepped back to allow her into the room. It was dimly lit except for the pool of warm yellow light from the glowlamp at his desk. Leia passed her hand absently over the sensor plate by the door to bring the overheads on, and then followed him to the couch.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

"Fine," he shrugged.

"Really?" she perched on the arm of the couch beside him, slipping her arm around his shoulders.

He smiled sadly. "I was wondering exactly why I keep doing this."

"Doing what?" she frowned.

"This," he said, gesturing to the room around them. "The Rebellion, all of it. What is it for if not a free Alderaan?"

"I always thought we were fighting for democracy," she said.

"Absolutely," he agreed. "But people don't fight for democracy or any principle just because they think it's right. They're fighting to secure the reality of that principle--for themselves, for their people, for their families. I don't have the last two anymore, and the idea of fighting for myself just leaves me cold."

"Yes, you do," Leia said. "There have to be others who weren't on Alderaan when it was destroyed. And I don't care who my father is, you'll always be part of my family."

"Leia--"

She lifted her hand from his shoulders and placed it on his cheek, cutting off his objections. "Ani told me that family isn't about the people you're related to. It's about the people you love, who love you no matter how much you change--or in this case, no matter what else changes."

"Ani was always a very smart boy," Bail allowed with a trace of amusement in his tone.

"What was he like when he was little?" she asked curiously.

Bail frowned ponderously for a few moments, then shrugged. "Truthfully, he wasn't all that much different. Always hopeful, always able to see the best in people. Once he heard Mon and I saying something to the effect that the Jedi Order had become Palpatine's pawns, so he politely reminded us that two Jedi had very recently saved our skins."

"That does sound like Ani," Leia chuckled.

"Your mother says that he was always just as quick to point to Mon and I when your father expressed his…lack of affinity for politicians," related Bail.

"The way I hear it, he had a few reasons to want to defend you," Leia reminded him.

Bail shrugged. "Your parents are my friends. They would have done no less for my children."

"I'm sure you're right," nodded Leia. Then she took a slow breath and added, "And I think that they might also be a little upset if they knew that you were sitting here alone in the dark tonight."

"I was working," he sighed, waving toward the desk.

"I know," she replied, sliding to her feet. "Come on."

------

The room that Luke now shared with Wedge on the ground floor of the temple was a far cry from the one that he had grown up sharing with his brother on Tatooine. It was hot, cramped, and contained only a couple cots, some ratty blankets, and lockers meant to stow their flight gear and what few personal belongings that either possessed. Artoo and Threepio hovered by the door as usual, but at least the two droids weren't bickering tonight.

"Do you think Mom will be able to convince Isaly to go with her and the kids?" Wedge asked.

"I don't know," Luke said, turning to face his friend, who lay in the cot beside his with his fingers laced behind his head.

"Ani wants her to go, doesn't he?" Wedge asked.

"Yeah, but Isaly's just as stubborn as he is," Luke replied.

"Your family's really something, Luke," Wedge chuckled.

"Yeah," agreed Luke.

"Exactly what that something is, I haven't figured out yet," Wedge went on jokingly.

"Thanks," sighed Luke.

"I heard your father used to be quite a pilot during the Clone Wars," Wedge said.

"Ani says there was only one better. And that was only because Dad hates flying," smiled Luke.

"What? A pilot who hates flying?" Wedge repeated skeptically.

Luke shrugged. "Dad doesn't fit into many boxes. What else do you expect from Jedi Master with a wife and three kids?"

"I don't know what to expect. Or at least I didn't," admitted Wedge. "I also figured he'd push you harder about the Jedi training."

"I guess he figures if I don't want to do it there isn't much point anyway," Luke mused.

"Well, why don't you?" Wedge asked.

"Hey, it's gonna take more than a couple of guys with lightsabers to win this war. We were the ones who blew up the Death Star, weren't we?" Luke reminded him.

"Yeah, but it just seems like the whole Jedi thing is really important to your family. Doesn't mean you can't fly, does it?" Wedge pointed out.

"No, it doesn't," sighed Luke. "But--I don't know, Wedge. I guess I've just never been able to compete with Ani when it comes to the Jedi Arts."

"I didn't know you had to," Wedge said.

"Well, nobody _says_ I do. But I've never really been the kind of Jedi that my brother is. For a while I thought if I tried harder, maybe I could be, but after the Death Star I think I finally realized that if I'm gonna make my dad proud of me, it's gotta be another way," explained Luke.

"You sure it's your dad you're trying to prove yourself to?" asked Wedge.

"What do you mean?" Luke frowned.

"Well, it seems like your dad's already pretty proud of you," said Wedge.

"Maybe since we've come here," sighed Luke. "Before…? I don't know."

"Well, I don't know either," Wedge said with a shrug. Neither pilot spoke for a few minutes, then looked speculatively at Luke. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah," Luke nodded, sitting up. "Come on."

-----

Han had just plucked Shmi off the ground and started to carry her off toward the Kenobis' quarters when a small army appeared at the end of the hall. Leia and her…other father…were in the lead, followed closely by Luke and Wedge. Artoo and Threepio trailed a short distance behind them, and the whole group stopped short at the sight of him and Shmi. He sighed heavily. So much for his idea of dropping the kid off and beating a quick escape.

"Little One, what are you doing out here?" Luke asked.

"I Han's apprentice now, Uncle Luke," she grinned.

"What…?" he raised his eyebrows, looking from her to the smuggler in confusion.

"Nevermind," Han told him. "Long story."

"I'll just bet it is," remarked Leia.

"You're just jealous because I have an apprentice and you don't," Han smirked, turning on his heel to head for her parents' door. Chewie sighed and followed him.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Leia hurried after him. "Han!"

"What?" he called without looking.

"You can't be serious. What do you think you're going to teach her?" demanded Leia.

The question struck more deeply than he would have expected it to, but he forced his tone to remain light and mocking. "Lotsa things, Princess. Why don't you try following us around sometime?" You might learn something too."

"I don't think so," she retorted.

"Yeah, I guess you'd have to come down off your high horse too much for that," he snapped as he stabbed his index finger into the door chime outside her parents' quarters.

"Oh, is that--" Leia began, but she broke off as Shmi clung tighter to Han and hid her face against his shoulder. "Nevermind."

"Whatever you say, Your Worship," Han replied, making a show of stroking the little girl's hair.

The Kenobis door slid open, and Obi Wan's eyes went wide at the sight of the crowd in the hall. He looked questioningly from face to face, then simply shook his head and stepped back to let them in. Ani, Isaly and Padme appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Padme pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling laughter.

"Well, I guess we won't be going to sleep tonight," Obi Wan sighed.

Shmi's head popped up from Han's shoulder and she beamed at her grandfather. "No bed?"

"He doesn't mean you, kid," Han told her.

"But--"

"Ah!" he raised a finger in warning.

"Yes, Master," she sighed.


	97. In Their Footsteps

Ani's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Glancing from Han to his father and back again, he cleared his throat and gave a pointed cough. "Master…?"

"Yeah, well, uh…y'know. Somebody was upset because she didn't have one of those, so I figured I'd better step in. Besides, it was the only thing I could think of to get her to come back here and go to sleep," explained Han.

"I see," Ani glanced at the floor uncomfortably. Padme and Isaly both laughed, but the humor of the situation was rather tainted for the Jedi Knight, who realized belatedly that his daughter must have been awake to hear at least part of the discussion between himself and Obi Wan.

That fact could not have been lost on Obi Wan, either, but he smoothly stepped to cover his son's discomfiture. "Well, you're doing far better than me, Captain Solo. None of my apprentices have ever listened to a word I said."

Padme and Isaly continued to laugh, and Ani shook off his uneasiness to smile along. Leia grinned from her brothers to her father and remarked lightly, "Well, I guess I'll have to be the first."

"I doubt it," Luke and Han piped up.

Ignoring her twin entirely, Leia scowled at Han, who smirked back and turned to look at Shmi, "What do you think, kid?"

"I don't know," Shmi shrugged diplomatically.

"Good girl," Leia said, stroking her niece's cheek with her index finger.

"Little One, I think it's time for you to say goodnight to your master," Isaly spoke up, walking over to pluck the three-year-old out of Han's embrace. Shmi pouted, but settled comfortably against her mother's shoulder as Isaly carried her off. She raised a chubby arm to wave back at Han, who rolled his eyes but after a moment's hesitation flicked his fingers in a brief reciprocal gesture.

The Kenobis, Bail, and Chewie all laughed again, then Padme began marshalling everyone toward the table. Ani slipped past her and threaded his way through the group to follow Isaly. Together, they tucked Shmi into bed, and then he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed beside her.

"So," he smiled, lightly brushing her dark curls back from her forehead. "You really want to be Han's apprentice?"

"Han wanna teach me," she frowned.

"Which isn't quite the same thing, is it?" Ani sighed.

She shook her head gravely. "Why I no be a Jedi like you?"

"You can be, Little One. If it's what you want, then someday you will learn the Jedi Way. I had two Masters myself. But for now…" he glanced at Isaly, who stifled a laugh and nodded. "…if you want to learn the things that Han can teach you, you have our permission."

"Okay," she smiled, closing her eyes in contentment.

Ani bent to kiss her forehead, then stood. Isaly reached for his hand as they left the room, and he hesitated, then laced his fingers through hers with a shy smile.

"How serious do you think he is about this?" she whispered.

The rest of the family had already gone into the kitchen, leaving them a relative amount of privacy. His smile widened knowingly. "Not very. At least not in terms of actually wanting to teach her anything. He probably just figures that she's going to follow him around whether he likes it or not, so he might as well get something out of it."

"Get what?" Isaly frowned.

"Free labor," Ani shrugged.

"She's _three_," laughed Isaly.

"I wasn't much older when we moved to Tatooine. I loved working the farm with Uncle Owen. And if Shmi can learn to keep the Falcon in one piece, she'll be able to get any mechanics or engineering job she wants," Ani pointed out with an ironic smile.

"Why would she need a job like that?" Isaly asked.

"Who knows? But she's going to have to know more than how to use the Force, and as much as I love my mother, there's more to life than political campaigning. I don't think it's a bad idea to keep as many possibilities open to her as we can. Besides, I think Han has more to teach her than he might realize."

"I'm not sure I want her learning the things Han has to teach her," Isaly said.

"Isaly, he's an honorable man, whether he wants to admit it or not. And he's my friend. He wouldn't do anything to put her in harm's way, either physically or morally."

"Are you sure?"

Absolutely. And, at the very least, it'll make him think twice about leaving."

"It'll break her heart if he does," Isaly said worriedly.

"For a while, maybe," Ani nodded. "But the only way to avoid having her hurt by people is to keep her from loving them. I'm not ready to do that."

"Neither am I," agreed Isaly.

"And anyway, even if Han _does_ decide to leave, he'll be back," Ani winked.

"How can you be so sure of that?" Isaly challenged.

"Han may not have a Jedi's consciousness of the Force, but he is part of it. It guides him just as it guides you and I or my parents or our kids. My sister is his destiny, and he is hers."

"You've seen them?" she asked.

"I've seen all of us," he shrugged. "But even if I hadn't, I can sense enough of their feelings to know."

"Knowing how they feel and knowing they're destined to be together are different things, honey," Isaly smiled indulgently.

"Maybe I'm just a romantic," Ani suggested.

"You're a Kenobi. It wouldn't surprise me one bit," Isaly said.

"Wouldn't it?" he chuckled.

"No," she shook her head, leaning toward his lips.

Ani kissed her gently, then pressed his lips to her temple. Then they walked into the kitchen, where the rest of the family was already discussing plans for the escape. They slid into the two remaining seats at the table, where Isaly kept her fingers firmly linked with his.

-------

While the Kenobis and their friends discussed their plan to break the Imperial Blockade, a single starfighter pierced the curtain of rain that still shrouded the jungle. The gleaming craft glided silently through the night, eventually setting down within a cavern which its pilot had decided was far enough away from Massassi station to remain undetected by the Rebel Alliance but near enough to allow her to complete her mission.

The canopy popped open, and she removed her helmet, letting long hair spill down around her shoulders. She shook it back, then climbed out of the ship, springing lightly and easily to the ground. She stood for a moment, utterly still, attuning her senses and stretching out to explore the resonance that remained here, echoes of a battle fought long ago but which seemed still very much present here.

"I am fear. I am the queen of a blood-soaked planet and an architect of genocide. I have helped to crack the galaxy in half with this war and conquered every enemy I have ever faced--including death. All except for you," came the reply. "And now I'll kill you, Jedi."

Taking a slow breath, she unclipped the lightsaber from her belt and thumbed the activation stud. The magenta blade flowed outward, casting a lurid light around the young woman. She raised it higher, and the light shifted, forming a halo around red-gold hair as she studied her environment further.

After a few seconds, she walked to the mouth of the cave and peered out with a sigh. "Fantastic. I'd have better luck finding dry wood in space."

Behind her, though she couldn't see them, Qui-Gon Jinn and Mace Windu stood watching with troubled expressions. Mace folded his hands and pressed them pensively to his lips. "She may kill him before this is over."

Qui-Gon nodded reluctant agreement. "It's possible. But there are still the children. And Luke…Luke will follow in his father's footsteps one way or the other."

------

Padme was beginning to think that Obi Wan had been right in his assessment of the likelihood that any of them would sleep that night. It was nearly morning by the time that plans were settled and everyone finally left. Han and Leia spent most of the night bickering, which was both amusing and unsettling to her. Bail seemed to find it amusing, and it was good to see a real smile on their friend's face again, but once they had bid him goodnight, she turned to her husband with a concerned frown.

"Are you sure I shouldn't talk to her?"

"Well, what would you say?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," Padme admitted. "It worries me that she's so frightened of what she feels for him."

"He's no different," said Obi Wan with a faint smile. "Neither of them really know what to make of one another. Leia represents most, if not all, of the things that Han has learned to mistrust. Possibly for good reason. Meanwhile, half of the time, he's still everything that she has been taught to reject."

"I know, and that's the problem," Padme sighed, linking her arm through his. "How will they ever manage to break through all that without someone to get them to both to come to the table without a load of preconceptions and self-fulfilling expectations?"

"Their feelings will lead them, darling. Just as ours did," he replied.

"But we weren't like that," Padme objected as they stepped into what was now their bedroom. For a moment, she felt the same disconcerting sensation of strangeness and cold discomfort that she had felt during their first few months on Tatooine. That bedroom, too, had seemed alien, but now it was the place that she missed keenly.

"Weren't we?" he asked.

"We didn't bicker. We always found the best in each other," she said.

"Oh, but we had our own share of walls, didn't we? Our objections were political and religious, theirs are moral and social, but it boils down to the same thing. If we try to push them before they're ready, it's only going to drive them further apart," he said.

"I guess you're right," she admitted as they broke contact to get ready for bed. He smiled, but didn't say anything in reply. That, she mused, was really just the way he was. He never needed to argue or "prove" his point, he simply stated it and left others to take his opinions as they would--and when he was right, he never made an issue of being so.

For her, he had always been this way, though Qui-Gon or Anakin Skywalker might once have seen him differently. They slid into bed and she settled her head comfortably against his chest, glad that he had learned to treat their children with the same openness and patience that he had always given her.

"Goodnight, Padme."

"Goodnight, Obi Wan," she smiled as she closed her eyes.

His breathing quickly became slow and even, but though she held herself still to keep from disturbing him, Padme's mind was restless. She found herself mentally rehashing the conversation that she had had with Isaly earlier in the evening, though at first she wasn't sure why. Something about it rested uncomfortably in her mind, but she had to replay the entire discussion twice before it occurred to her. Then, her eyes popped open again.

"Obi Wan," she said softly.

"Mmm," he grunted, more asleep than awake.

"Did I ever thank you for not pushing _me_ after Devaron?" she asked.

"What…?" he stirred, drawing a breath as he tried to pull himself back from the edge of dreams.

"I was telling Isaly tonight how much it's always meant to me that you didn't…try to change my mind, or do anything to make things harder than they already were," she explained.

He didn't reply for a few seconds, then lifted his arm from around her back and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Padme, you don't have to thank me for that."

"Yes, I do," she smiled. "What, do you think that just because we've been married forever, we shouldn't still thank one another?"

"Of course not," he replied. "All I mean is that if I had tried to make you change your mind after Devaron, I would have lost you."

"Yes, but you realized that," she said.

"Well, I did know that you would eventually come to your senses," he said teasingly.

"Did you?" she sat up and rested her elbow lightly on his chest, then planted her chin on her fist to hold his gaze.

"No," he shook his head with a laugh. "I was an absolute fool."


	98. Disquiet

Though they had all left only a few hours before, Bail, Leia, Chewie, and Han all turned up at the breakfast table. Luke brought along the entirety of Rogue Group rather than just Wedge this time, and much of the meal was spent rehashing the escape plan that had been established the night before. Shmi stayed quite happily on her grandfather's lap, but no sooner had Han pushed back his chair than she was up and at his side.

Isaly was glad that his Wookiee companion was amused enough to be forbearing of her daughter, but she had to wonder how long it would be before Han himself grew tired of having a little girl trailing along with them and calling him "Master" at every turn. It would, of course, be a non-issue while she and the children were with the Fleet prior to the evacuation of Yavin 4, and she suspected that the smuggler was hoping his new apprentice would have found another diversion by the time they were reunited. If she knew her daughter, though, that would be far from the case. She was as stubbornly loyal as her father, and like him, once she had made up her mind to do something, there was no dissuading her.

Despite her reservations, Isaly had to admit that, this morning she was more than a little relieved that her daughter had Han to occupy her. The twins had been fussy since they woke up, and coupled with her own lack of sleep, she had little energy left to devote to the three-year-old. Even Obi-Wan, who was usually the more docile of the brothers, refused all attempts to comfort him.

After breakfast, Padme finally suggested putting them down in their room and letting them cry themselves out. The problem with that strategy, though, was that there were two of them. It seemed that whenever one was on the verge of settling down, the other would have a fresh wave of tears and set his brother off again. Padme assured her that eventually both twins would be tired enough to fall asleep in any case, and while Isaly was certain that her mother-in-law must know what she was talking about since she had raised three children of her own, including a set of twins, but the fact that nothing she did seemed to soothe them still left her feeling painfully inadequate.

"I feel like a horrible mother," she told Ani as they stood beside the crib, each rubbing one of the twins' backs.

"What? Isaly, you're a wonderful mother," Ani said firmly.

"No, I'm not," she sighed in frustration. "I can't even make them stop crying!"

"It's not your fault. You know kids just…cry sometimes," he reminded her.

"But what if something's wrong? I should know!" she insisted.

"Honey, they're not hungry; they're don't need changing; they're not in any physical pain," he said.

"Yes, I know, Ani, but something is making them cry," she shook her head.

"If anything was _wrong_, you would know," he assured her. "You're always the first to know if anything's wrong with the kids.

"I know…" she rubbed her eyes wearily with the tips of her fingers. "I guess I'm just tired."

Ani smiled in understanding. "Look, I have to make perimeter patrol this morning. When I get back, I'll take over for you. Meantime, Mom's here. Let her help, all right?"

Isaly nodded, and he turned to kiss her. He started to rest his hands on her shoulders but hesitated with them still in the air and let them drop again. Their lips brushed gently, and he hurried out. Sighing, she walked back to the door, leaning against it to watch him leave with both relief and longing.

His father called to him, and he paused, glancing over his shoulder. Obi Wan caught up with him, slipping an arm over his shoulders, and the two Jedi left together. Catching Padme's eye, Isaly swallowed hard, an ominous weight setting in her chest. Her mother-in-law gave her a reassuring smile, but she only turned and went back to the twins.

------

"Be wary out there today, Anakin. I sense a disturbance in the Force," Obi Wan advised.

Ani frowned, considering for a moment, and then slowly nodded. "Yes, Master. I think the twins sense it, too."

"Ir's possible," said Obi Wan. "They may also simply be reacting to the heightened tensions around here."

"Already?" Ani raised his eyebrows.

"You were always very attuned to the emotional states of those around you. Especially your mother," said his father.

"But Little One wasn't this sensitive to moods at their age," Ani said thoughtfully.

"Shmi's gifts in the Force seem to lie elsewhere. I'm beginning to think the twins will have much more of your empathic talents," replied Obi Wan.

Ani accepted that news with another nod and stroked his chin thoughtfully. His sensitivity to the emotional states of beings around him was, largely, what had always kept him so firmly grounded on the path of the Jedi. He had seen too keenly what hate and fear did, not only those around a fallen Jedi, but to the mind and heart of the fallen himself. Having experienced so much of his parents' suffering in regard to Anakin Skywalker's seduction by the Dark Side and watching Anakin himself be twisted from a hero of the Republic into a metal monster who thrived on rage and pain, he had become firmly and absolutely convinced that there could be _no_ compromise in his practice of the Jedi Arts, no other road that he could walk. Later witnessing the horrors that Vader inflicted on so many, including his own sister, Leia, had only reinforced that belief for him. In that sense, the gift had been a boon to him. In another way, though, it had only heightened his own trauma during the temple massacre and made his recovery from that experience more complicated. He wasn't sure that he would ever be able to walk the halls of the Jedi Temple again, and the scars that lingered in his mind even now whispered their own breed of pain. They would have to be dealt with and expunged before he could face Darth Vader for a second time, and he would not wish similar experiences on either of his sons. There was, however, very little he could do about it. The twins' talents would manifest in their own ways, as the Force determined, and trying to shield them from the natural effects of those abilities would only hinder them.

He gave a soft, weary sigh. A Jedi's need for sleep changed, sometimes drastically, in comparison to others of the same species. The Force could be drawn up on to offset fatigue and bring about clarity of mind, but even this had its functional limits, and Ani felt his own connection to the Force had been altered by the presence of his new limbs, which seemed to make it difficult for the energy to flow freely through him. He knew that this was most likely a temporary problem and that it could be surmounted with time and patience, but he had been able to find little time lately for meditation. With two babies to care for, his own need for sleep wasn't all that much different from Isaly's, and if there was some new threat in the jungle, the last thing he needed was to muddle his thoughts with pointless speculation about the twins' abilities to perceive things in the Force.

"Have you seen Qui-Gon?" he asked, abruptly bringing his mind back to matters at hand.

"No, have you?" frowned his father.

Ani shook his head. "That worries me."

"Why?"

"Well, if anyone knows what this disturbance in the Force is all about, it would be him, wouldn't it?" Ani asked.

"I suppose he would," agreed Obi Wan.

"I would've thought he'd be the first to tell us what was going on," Ani said.

"Qui-Gon can't tell us everything, Ani. Even if he might want to. Remember how long you knew he was there before he revealed himself to me? The living have to be allowed to make their own decisions. Qui-Gon may be able to guide you, but you are the only one who can be responsible for your choices. It may be that telling us what is out there would alter whatever decisions that you'll have to make when the time comes."

"Dad, somehow that really isn't reassuring," Ani replied, shoulders drooping.

"Do you want to take my lightsaber?" Obi Wan asked, and Ani felt a faint but obvious increase in the flow of the Force between them as his father quietly channeled the energy around them to wash away his lingering fatigue.

He smiled gratefully, both at the use of the Force and the offer of the weapon. It wasn't unheard of for Jedi Knights to borrow weapons if circumstances demanded it. Anakin and Obi Wan had fought with borrowed lightsabers in the Battle of Geonosis. Usually though, when a Jedi entrusted a light saber to another, even temporarily, it was meant as a sign of mutual respect as much as the product of any momentary need. He had been carrying a blaster ever since he'd begun assisting in the defense of the base, but Obi Wan still wanted him to have a lightsaber in his hand in the face of any real threat.

"I'd be afraid that I'd end up cutting off my own hand this time," he shook his head.

Obi Wan's eyebrows rose. "Are you having that much trouble?"

"I don't know. I haven't really used a lightsaber since the Death Star. If there is something out there, a combat situation is probably not the best place to test my reflexes," Ani said.

Physically, he knew that his new limbs were both faster and stronger than his natural ones had been, even without the aid of the Force, but the real danger of lightsaber combat was the nature of the weapon. While the hilt had both weight and substance, the blade had no mass. This alone would make it difficult to know exactly _where_ that blade was at any given moment in an arc or swing. Complicating matters further, few beings had either the physical strength or quick reflexes necessary to compensate for the blade's gyroscopic action without the aid of the Force. The only one of which Ani was aware who was ever a match for a Jedi in combat was General Grievous, and the Separatist military commander had, in fact, been a cyborg trained in combat by Count Dooku _after_ essentially becoming a machine. Ani, however, had grown up using a lightsaber in human hands and relying heavily on the Force to aid him. Even if he hadn't lost Qui-Gon's saber on the Death Star, learning to use the weapon of Jedi Knight effectively again was going to be, like any number of other things, a difficult process.

Obi Wan nodded in understanding. "Well. Eventually you are going to have to build a new one, but for the moment, Luke still has your Uncle Anakin's. Maybe after Isaly and your mother leave with the children, we can make some time for sparring."

"I'd…rather not have to use that," he said slowly.

"I'll use it," Obi Wan told him without hesitation.

"Thank you," Ani murmured.

"No," Obi Wan shook his head. "It's all right, Ani. Don't thank me."

"I know it can't be easy for you to hold it either," Ani said.

Obi Wan regarded him in mild surprise. "Why do you think I took it on Mustafar?"

"To keep it from Sidious, I assume," Ani replied, his brow creasing thoughtfully.

"The possession of one more weapon wouldn't have made any difference to Sidious. He'd already won. Keeping Anakin's lightsaber was…all I could do for him. It was all that was left of my friend," said Obi Wan.

"Even after he'd just tried to kill you with it?" Ani asked uncomfortably.

Obi Wan smiled weakly. "Perhaps it's not a perfect analogy. But I already knew that you and the twins were going to have to shoulder the weight of finishing what Yoda and I had started. I hoped that you might be able to carry something of Anakin Skywalker with you. If you can't and Luke won't, then at least I can use it to help you get back what Vader took. I think Anakin would have wanted that."

"You know, Dad," Ani mused with an answering smile of his own, "I think you're right. And I also think maybe we've staked too many of our hopes on Luke. There is another."

"Oh, I know," Obi Wan said with a half smile.


	99. The Things We Can't Forget

With the twins upset, Obi Wan and Leia had to find another place to begin their training. They opted for her quarters, which would be quieter and cooler than any of the outdoor locations that either one of them might have chosen, while providing more privacy than most of the places within the ancient Massassi Temple that might have lent to lessons in the ways of the Force. Leia herself felt far from ready to pick up a lightsaber, and Obi Wan agreed. He felt it prudent to begin at the beginning again--helping her regain a practical understanding of the more basic instruction he'd given her with her brothers on Tatooine.

On the Death Star, the threat to her father and brother had enabled her to instinctively use the Force to help Luke and Han blast the stormtroopers, even though she had only had her real memories back for a short time. Absent that immediate danger, though, she found that her connection to the Force seemed as fragile and intermittent as her connection to the Kenobis. Unless Luke was somehow involved, she was seldom aware enough to say that she could feel or sense anything through the Force, much less to _feel_ the Force itself. Her father assured her that she did whether she was cognizant of it or not, but that was far from helpful.

Now they sat facing one another on the thick rug that covered the rough stone floor. She was crosslegged, with her back resting comfortably against the couch behind her, with her hands lightly on her knees. The posture mirrored Obi Wan's, though he simply held his back and shoulders aligned without the support of furniture or a wall to lean against. He had dimmed the lights when they came in, and the only sounds were his voice and her own quiet breathing as he guided her inward, toward the place of calm center within her where she should have been able to feel the Force again.

She remembered the process. Lessons from childhood re-emerged as he spoke, bringing a comfortable sense of familiarity both with Obi Wan and what they were doing. Still, her mind remained full of sounds and images--memories, thoughts, sensations which, without an outward focus to quell or direct them, demanded attention. Try as she might not to focus on them, to wrestle herself into some semblance of the quiet openness she recalled having been so simple and easy to find as a girl, she found that after only a few seconds, some new thought would bubble up from her unconscious and force her to begin the entire process again.

"Leia, you're trying too hard," Obi Wan said.

She opened her eyes to find him smiling back at her reassuringly, and she let out a sigh that was at once frustrated and sad. "I can do this, Dad."

"Of course you can. You were always better at it than your brothers," he replied.

She blinked in surprise, then smiled hesitantly. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

"Yes, I did," he winked. "But let's not tell them that."

"All right," she chuckled.

"Now then. When thoughts come to you, don't fight them, but don't hold on to them, either. Accept them, and then let them go. Eventually, you'll find that your mind will quiet itself," he instructed.

"But how?" she frowned. "I mean, I've been trying to let them go. It's not working."

"No, you've been trying to force them away. There's a difference," he said.

"That still doesn't tell me how," she pointed out.

Obi Wan frowned thoughtfully for a few moments, then said, "Move your arm."

"What?"

"Move your arm," he repeated, then raised and lowered his own arm in demonstration.

"All right…" she said dubiously, mimicking the motion.

"Good. Now wiggle your fingers," directed her father.

"You're kidding," Leia said.

"So much for you being the first of my apprentices to actually listen to me," he remarked.

"No--okay, I'm sorry," she promised quickly, giving her fingers a little apologetic wave.

"How did you do that?" asked Obi Wan?

"I just did…" she trailed off.

"Exactly. Don't think about it so much, Leia. The more you intellectualize this, the harder it will be. Thinking comes later," he explained.

"I think I understand," she nodded, closing her eyes again.

Even so, it took most of the morning for her to really be able to let go of the jumble that crowded her mind and find the calm center he was trying to guide her to. From there, she expected him to begin instructing her in some more overt use of the Force, but he didn't. He expected her to remain there, centered and unmoving, for as long as she could: aware of the Force but without trying to manipulate or actively use it.

That proved to be more difficult than she would have expected. Having spent most of her life engaged in one form of activism or another, the passivity inherent to a Jedi's meditation was strange to the point of feeling alien to Leia. At first, she could only keep it up for a few minutes at a time, but as she gradually became more accustomed to the stillness and allowed herself to simply "be" while the Force flowed in and around her, she found the phenomenon more familiar and even comfortable.

Image and sensation continued to surface, but she found that they weren't simply the random noise of before. These were darker, more distinctly familiar, and easy to place. The clinically cold metal walls were her cell aboard the Death Star, and the menacing shadow became solid, its rasping mechanically breath unmistakable. She felt a moment of panic before her father's hand covered hers in a quiet gesture of reassurance, and she held herself still. The fear passed, and she allowed the images to fade, let the remembered pain become simply part of her past, with no power to affect her in this moment.

Obi Wan slowly withdrew, and she felt tacit permission to open her eyes. She didn't though, choosing instead to remain where she was. A few minutes passed and she did open her eyes, finding Obi Wan again smiling at her with the same knowing look in his eyes.

"There, you see? You were right. You can do it."

"Now what?" Leia asked.

"Now, it's time for lunch," he replied easily.

"Lunch?"

"Your mother gave me strict instructions," he replied.

------

"I would still feel better if we could warn them," sighed Qui-Gon.

"As would I," Mace balled his right hand into a fist and cupped his left hand around it, then pressed his knuckles pensively to his lips. "But you know that it is not possible."

"I don't have to like it," replied Qui-Gon.

"No," admitted Mace.

"Any more than I enjoyed being unable to reveal myself to Obi Wan before I did," Qui-Gon shook his head as if to dispel the memory.

"It was necessary," Mace pointed out. "The Force was still in turmoil over Anakin and the lineage of the twins. Until they were actually conceived, it would have been possible for them to have been of Skywalker descent. Any direct influence from you beyond what you did for Ani might well have had catastrophic consequences."

"As it might in this case," Qui-Gon agreed. "But I still don't have to like it.

Mace rested a hand sympathetically on the other Force Ghost's shoulder, and they both walked in silence for a while. They were still trailing Mara, who had spent the majority of the day scouting and skirting Alliance perimeter patrols. She had had more than one near-encounter with Ani, but so far had managed to keep herself just beyond the normal range of his Jedi senses.

The Kenobis were, in this case, not her mission. She was aware of them, however, and quite cognizant of the fact that her Master had set her to spy upon Darth Vader's upcoming invasion of Yavin 4 largely because he was displeased over Vader's failure to finish the Kenobis on the Death Star. She had no knowledge of Vader's true identity nor of the relationship that he, as Anakin Skywalker, had once had with the Kenobis, but she knew that Palpatine would be pleased with the deaths of at least Obi Wan and Ani. She had no great love of the Jedi, whom Palpatine had raised her to see as the enemies of his Empire, and she would have been more than happy to present them to him.

Ani, for his part, may not have known who or what Mara was, but he was now more convinced than ever that some threat lurked in the jungle. He wasn't the type to go looking for trouble unnecessarily, but neither Qui-Gon nor Mace were convinced that Mara Jade would remain in the category of "unnecessary" trouble for very long, and the outcome of a meeting between those two at this juncture could not be predicted. All they knew for certain was that it would be dangerous for one or both of them…

------

Ani met Obi Wan and Leia in the hallway, heading for his parents' quarters. They both paused to allow him to catch up, and he sprinted the rest of the way, falling in step on his father's right as they began to walk again. He casually laid his hand on his father's shoulder as they moved, ducking his head thoughtfully.

"I didn't find anything all morning," he said.

"Were you supposed to?" Leia asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "Dad and I both felt…something this morning."

"Did you report it?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Report what, Sis?" Ani asked with a chuckle. "A vague disturbance in the Force? You know what the reaction would be to that. There's no physical evidence of an Imperial presence--not yet anyway. I'll have to take a look beyond the base's defensive perimeter tomorrow."

"Not by yourself you won't," Leia told him flatly.

"What am I supposed to do, take a security team out into the jungle with me when I don't even know what I'm looking for?" Ani asked.

"Why not?" Leia challenged.

"Because this is a military base, and I'm not a military officer, for one thing. This isn't the Clone Wars; people don't trust the Jedi. Dad's got the clout of his past service to stand on here, and Luke's earned his position with the Rogues. I'm not going to start trying to trade on my title as a Jedi Knight…or the noticeably lacking robes and lightsaber," Ani replied.

"Anakin, you've earned your fair share of respect here, too," Leia argued.

"Yes, but not the right to expect anyone to follow my intuition on what they're going to see as a wild bantha chase, Leia," he insisted.

"But--"

Obi Wan held up a hand, stilling the argument. "You're both right. Ani, there's no reason you need to go tomorrow. Why not wait until Luke and the Rogues are back from escorting the _Falcon_ out? It should only take a few days."

"And if there is something out there?" Ani asked.

"Then I'd rather not tip our hand until Isaly, your mother, and the children are safely off the planet," replied Obi Wan. "If it is the Empire, and they haven't moved to reveal themselves yet, they're not likely to right away. They're up to something else, and if we push them, we might find ourselves fighting an invasion we're not ready to handle yet."


	100. The Things We Must Always Remember

Padme laid the datapad on the table beside the bed with a satisfied smile. Running a finger lightly over it, she turned her head to look at Obi Wan. He smiled back without lifting his head from his arm.

"Now, don't forget to give it to her after all this work," he said, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Oh, I won't," she assured him.

She had begun keeping a diary almost immediately after the Blockade Crisis. It had never occurred to her before that, but after meeting Obi Wan, she had felt the need to have a place to be able to speak her mind without having to hide behind the guise of Amidala. The correspondence they shared gave her that to an extent, but she had wanted more, and Sola had finally suggested a private journal.

The first half dozen or so entries were short and somewhat halting, as if the idea of recording her own thoughts had made the young Queen of Naboo slightly uneasy. They quickly gained confidence, however, and as they did they grew in length and detail. The complete body of her journal now spanned over twenty years of her life--as Queen, Senator, wife, mother, grandmother, friend, and freedom fighter. It was as a complete an account of Padme herself and the Kenobis as a family in existence, and she had decided that if anything could really help Leia adjust and find her place in the family again, this would be it.

It had taken her several weeks to compile this particular version, weeding out material that would be of no interest or benefit to her daughter and condensing the rest so that it would be easier for her to digest. The trick had been to balance ease of comprehension with the need to provide sufficient day to day detail that Leia felt truly connected--first to her mother and father, then later to her brothers, and finally to Isaly when the story wound its way to recent years on Tatooine.

"I like the one you wrote the night before I came home to Naboo for the first time," he remarked with a wink.

"The one where I couldn't sleep and sat in the kitchen talking about how the new tablecloth reminded me of your eyes?" she rolled her eyes as she pulled her legs into bed.

"And you were worried about whether I'd catch you snoring or something and how embarrassing it would be," he added, leaning over to kiss her.

Their lips met briefly and she laughed, "Lucky for me you snore loud enough to drown me out."

"You don't snore anyway," he assured her.

"Good," she said, settling her head on his shoulder. "You know, I really don't know how I'll sleep without you snoring next to me."

"Well, I don't know how I'll sleep without you waking me up to tell me to roll over so I'll stop snoring," he replied.

"I guess we'll both be a mess by the time the base is evacuated," she smiled.

"Oh yes. I can see it now. The boys and I'll make it to the fleet, the children will all want to go celebrate, and Mom and Dad will be looking for the nearest place to take a nap…"

-----

_Ani and Obi Wan stepped into the corridor only a second before the Sith Lord. He emerged from the shadows at the other with the appearance of deadly calm, but his feelings struck Ani like a visceral blow to the gut. Cold rage. Hatred so powerful that it twisted Ani's stomach muscles into an agonizing knot._

He reached for calm and clarity, and while he regained it, he found that to do so he must stand in the center of the storm that was Vader, who had become an eruption in the Force--the embodiment of physical pain that pummeled both of them with every movement. In an instant, Ani realized that there had been no attempt to treat any of his uncle's injuries on Mustafar; no bacta treatments for the burns, not even an attempt to save his lungs. Ill-fitting mechnos had been welded in on cauterized stumps that ended in bulbs of grafted flesh, inserted into machines that triggered movement through the use of modules that interfaced with his damaged nerve endings. None of it worked right. The inner lining of the pressurized body-suit continually snagged on places where strips of inferior alloy bulking connected with knee and ankle joints, and his nerves didn't know that what was being torn and scraped was metal rather than flesh. Since the legs themselves didn't fit, each snag caused a jar that in turn ground against the stump.

All of it had been done purposely by Palpatine--who had had the horrific suit laying in wait, as if he had known all along what would happen on Mustafar. Sidious had deliberately worsened Vader's condition; aggravated his injuries in order to worsen his pain and foster dependence on him and his Sith teachings.

No one had suggested to him that traces of the Force still existed within the components of the metal. Even if someone had been able to make such a suggestion, Vader couldn't meditate properly; pain broke his concentration. His mechanical limbs were so awkward and heavy that he had been forced to give up the moving meditation which had been so central to Anakin Skywalker's practice of the Jedi Arts. Sidious continued to twist his mind, using his pain and inability to sleep as weapons against him, preying upon what remained of Anakin by taking advantage of his feeling of disconnectedness from the Force.

"What were you going to do?" Anakin Kenobi heard himself scream. He looked down to find a lightsaber in each hand, Palpatine on the floor at his feet. "Were you going to chop off his arms and legs yourself if he killed my father on Mustafar?! What if I chop yours off, you Sith disease!"

"Anakin! Not this way!"

"You'll destroy everything he tried to protect!"

He spun and he was four years old again, his hand outstretched to the man who had become the monster. "Uncle Anakin, please, I want to help you!"

"Run, Ani!"

"No! Not this time, Uncle PLEASE--let me help you!"

"It's too late for me, son…"

"I won't leave you!"

"Obi Wan never told you…"

"Uncle! I'm right here!"

"RUN!"

"Jareth, get to the ship!"

"RUN!!!!!"

"Come with us. Let me help you!"

"Anakin Skywalker was a hero!"

"RUN!!!!!!!!!"

"No!" he tore himself awake, bolting upright in bed, but the dream still lingered. "I won't leave you. I have to…"

"Ani?" Isaly pushed herself off the pillows beside him, reaching tentative fingers to stroke his quivering, sweat-drenched back.

"I--" he sucked in a breath, which exploded from his lungs again. "I'm all right."

"What was it?" she asked.

"I don't know," he shook his head, swinging his legs out of bed. "Some of it was the Death Star. I told you before I felt his pain. But there was more--things I couldn't have known there. Then the temple…and somewhere else…voices…Luke…Leia…I think I…"

She slowly swung her own legs down to sit beside him, and after a moment's pause began to rub his arm soothingly. "You what, honey?"

"I think…I…dismembered Palpatine, Isaly. I intentionally cut him to pieces."

She lowered her lips to his shoulder, kissing softly, reassuring and gentle. "You won't."

"I'd certainly like to," he muttered.

"Ani, you're a human being. Feelings are part of what it means to be alive. But you don't have to let your feelings control you. You don't have to act on them. You're a Jedi. You're better than that," Isaly said firmly.

"I hope so," he whispered.

Isaly drew his head onto her breast, wrapping her arms around him. "You are. It wouldn't bother you so much otherwise. How many times have you told me that the dreams don't have to come true?"

He nodded, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. "I know. I--it--it was…"

"There's something else, isn't there?" she asked.

He didn't reply right away, instead taking a few moments to simply breathe her, gathering his thoughts and calming himself. "It's Uncle Anakin."

She tensed. "What about him."

"I have to help him, Isaly," he told her.

"We've talked about that," she said mechanically. "I know you want to save him, Ani. I understand."

"No," he shook his head. "More than that. He--he's in pain."

She said nothing, but he could feel the reply she struggled not to voice. It burned in the back of her throat like bile, and she couldn't swallow it away. He deserves to be.

Instinctively, he pulled away and shook his head. Surging up from the bed, he took a few agitated steps and spun to face her again. "Not like that. You didn't feel what I felt on the Death Star. And--this was worse."

"Anakin, what about the pain he's caused?" she snapped back. "What about what he did to you? Leia? The entire planet of Alderaan! It's gone!"

"I know that!" he ran a hand through his hair. "I know better than anyone how much suffering Vader's inflicted on people!"

"Then why are you so determined to treat him like a victim?" she demanded.

"Because he is one--and even if he weren't, even if he hadn't been used and twisted and manipulated by Palpatine for his entire life, he is still Anakin Skywalker, and I love him," Ani replied without flinching.

"You don't owe him that, Ani! Not anymore!" Isaly shook her head.

"It doesn't matter what I owe him or don't, Isaly. It doesn't work that way. I love him, the same way I love you--or--or the kids, or my parents. I can't change it. And--and, if you don't understand that, if you want to go on hating him, if you want him to punished, then you can be satisfied. Because every movement--every _breath_--is an exercise in agony. His life is living nightmare, and he doesn't need any help from you or me in the punishing department. Why do you think he's never even tried to get himself limbs that actually _fit?_ Vader may be a monster, but Anakin Skywalker is still alive in there, and he is more than capable of tormenting himself without your assistance!"

"Ani, I--" she broke off, staring.

"I'm sorry," he said contritely, moving back toward the bed. "I didn't mean to--"

She rose slowly, stepping toward him to slip her hand onto his shoulders. Shaking her head, she murmured, "Ani, I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want to hurt you either," he promised.

"We have to stop this," she said.

He drew in a shaky breath. "Where's the middle way?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted, taking his arm to guide him back to the bed.

"Do you really hate him?"

"I hate what he's done to you, Ani. But I do believe you when you say that there is still good in him. It's just really hard to remember that when so much of what we're going through now is his fault. I don't have your memories of him before. You have to see that."

"I do," he nodded as they sank back onto the edge of the bed together. "I don't expect you to love him. I guess I just hope that you can forgive him. Not because of what he deserves or doesn't…just because I hate having a wall between us this way."

"I'm trying," she replied with a sigh. "How do you think you can help him?"

"I have no idea," he shook his head. "I've been thinking I should go to Dagobah once the base is evacuated. I need--help--with the way my body works now. I know that it should be possible for me to feel the Force in my arm and legs, but I can't. And I think there are other things I need to learn from Yoda before I can hope to face Vader again and succeed. Maybe he might know something about this too. He's not a Jedi Healer, but he was Grand Master for generations."

"How long would you be gone?" she asked.

"I'm really not sure. A few months, at least. This wasn't how I wanted to bring it up, Isaly," he apologized again.

She shook her head dismissively. "What if I came with you? Force techniques may help, but I don't think they have to be the only answer. We could bring datapads with us, information about healing. You're not going to be able to set your own schedule. If you want Yoda's help, you'll have to take it on his terms. I'm not a Jedi. I could study while you're training. Between the two of, maybe…"

"You'd--you'd do that for my uncle?" he asked, frowning.

"No, Ani," she replied frankly. "But I'd do it for you."

He smiled, giving a half-nod of acknowledgement and thanks. "But what about the kids?"

"Well," she hesitated, biting her lip in thought. "Obi-Too and Junior are really too young to be left that long, but Little One could stay with your parents. I'm sure they wouldn't mind. They'd be able to give her a lot more attention than either one of us probably could in a situation like that."

"Are you…sure you'd be all right with leaving her?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head. "But you have to do this whether I help you or not, and I'd rather we did it together. That's the Kenobi way, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he smiled.

"The real question is, how is any of this actually going to help your Uncle Anakin?" she asked.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I'm convinced that the pain is the key--the new shatterpoint. The dream I had tonight only confirms it. Pain clouds a person's ability to think and reason; Palpatine has convinced him that the teachings of the Sith are his only way of being able to feel connected to the Force again and thus surmount the limitations of his body. Pain fuels his anger, which he allows to build within him until it becomes an almost constant state of rage. He's half mad with sheer physical suffering, and it's the only thing that makes sense to him anymore. If I can somehow show him that there's another way--or--or just get around the pain myself for a few minutes, I _know_ I can reach him."

"That's a big somehow," Isaly said.

"I know that. But it's all we've got. We'll just have to trust the Force that it's enough," Ani replied.


	101. Always Parting and Never Parted

I will have notes up within the next week or so on the dating system Padme is using. For now, I would appreciate if y'all trusted me that it really does work. 

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Han had expected it to take the Kenobis at least half the day to finish saying goodbye. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the ordeal actually ended in less than an hour. He hovered in the cockpit entrance, watching impatiently while everyone hugged everyone else, including Chewie, who was at the moment holding Junior for Ani and Isaly. Fortunately for Han, these people were tougher than he had originally given them credit for. Even Shmi only clung to her grandfather for a few minutes before she pried herself off of his neck and sniffled her way over to Han himself, who sighed and picked her up.

He frowned a little at how reluctant Leia was to surrender Obi-Too. She had held the kid pretty much since the twins woke up that morning--even during breakfast, at which no one really ate anything anyway. Both of the twins were cranky and crying, and Obi-Too only ever came close to shutting up when Leia rocked and shushed him. Now she had to give him back to Isaly, and she looked about as miserable as he sounded. In fact, she looked as mournful as Han had ever seen her. He even thought he saw a hint of tears in her eyes, and that just wasn't like Her Worshipfulness. The only time he'd ever seen her close to tears this way was during the memorial service for Biggs and the other pilots who had been killed during the Death Star thing.

He forced himself to look away, casting about for something else to focus on. Shmi was still sniffling, and he didn't think that telling her to cut it out was going to go over well at the moment. Ani was just as bad as his sister. Especially when he finished hugging Isaly and his mother for what had to be the nineteenth time, kissed each of the twins and then walked over to lift Shmi out of Han's arms.

She hugged and kissed him, then he got down on one knee talk to her. Luke came over as well, and the two brothers made a huge production of making the kid promise to take care of Isaly, Padme, and her brothers. Han barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If that wasn't the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, he didn't know what was. She was three. She didn't belong taking care of anybody. Isaly and Padme needed to take care of her. Telling her something like that was a real quick way for her to get herself into some kind of trouble, and then what were they gonna do?

He held back a sigh and shifted his gaze again, this time settling on Padme and the old man. They had moved a little away from their horde of descendants by then, and he quietly slipped something into her hand. An old Jedi comlink…? Han's brow furrowed, but he shook his head, deciding he really didn't want to know. She accepted it with a tremulous smile, then slid her arms around his neck. He responded with a kiss that quickly became passionate, and Han winced, scrubbing his face with his hand.

_I'm just gonna look at the floor,_ he told himself, fixing his eyes firmly upon the toes of his boots.

"Han," Ani called as he let Shmi slide to the ground again.

Startled, he looked up sharply. "What?"

"I just wanted to thank you again," the Knight smiled. "You're sticking your neck out on this one."

"Yeah, well, uh--don't' worry about it," he shrugged. What else could he say? They still had no idea that his motivations for this weren't all magnanimous and heroic. Somehow they'd all gotten this idea that he'd changed. He wasn't about to inform them that he was really just the same old scoundrel who'd fleeced the boys and their father for passage to the Alderaan System a few months ago.

"Right," Ani replied, and his smile became distinctly and annoyingly knowing.

Han shook his head and looked away again, accidentally glancing back at Obi Wan and Padme, who were slowly moving apart and turning to face the group again. He started to pull his gaze away, but momentarily froze, blinking in surprise as he caught the old man wipe his eyes on his sleeve. His stomach clenched uncomfortably, and he hurried to stare at Leia instead.

After watching Obi Wan and Ani take on Vader on the Death Star, he had to admit that he'd changed his mind some about the old man. Oh, he was still crazy--all the Kenobis were--but it was a different kind of crazy than he'd first thought. He'd fought with Obi Wan himself a few times since then, repelling Imperial raids or helping chase pirates off the Alliance supply lines. He figured he could see how the old man had earned himself such a reputation for his service in the Clone Wars. That was something he almost expected, though.

Seeing him this way was something else, and he wasn't sure whether it made him more or less uncomfortable with the man he knew as General Kenobi. Generals and Jedi Masters didn't _cry_ when kissing their wives goodbye. He bit his lip uncomfortably and watched as the couple moved toward Leia.

Padme slipped her arm around her daughter's shoulders, smiling, "I have something for you."

"What?" Leia frowned softly.

Padme let the bag on her shoulder drop so that the strap was dangling from the crook of her elbow. She removed a datapad from the front pocket and pressed into Leia's hands. "I started keeping this journal after I met your father. We thought it might help you."

Leia looked from the datapad to her parents with a faltering smile. She embraced them both at once, and they all held one another for a long moment, then Luke went over to Padme and kissed her cheek, then hefted her satchel so that Chewie could hand off Junior.

Little else was said as Padme and Isaly sat down. Luke placed his mother's bag between them and then helped Ani secure the twins in the special seating that Han and Chewie had rigged to keep them from getting jarred around too much if things got rough on the way out. Shmi ran back to Han, but he shook his head.

"No, kid. Go strap in for take-off," he told her.

"But I wanna come in the cockpit!" she protested.

"Chewie and I will handle it," he said, pointing toward her mother.

She gave a loud sigh of exasperation and tromped over to strap in. Everyone chuckled briefly, the Obi Wan and Ani bent to kiss their wives again. After a few more words of farewell, Ani turned and laid his hands on the heads of his now wailing sons, while Obi Wan approached Han. The startled smuggler pulled himself off the doorframe and straightened his shoulders. Obi Wan smiled and clasped his forearm.

"Thank you, Han," he said sincerely.

"Don't worry about it, old man," Han smirked. "I'll take care of her."

-----

"Luke," Obi Wan said as he, Ani and the twins clanked down the Falcon's boarding ramp.

Luke was directly in front of him and turned his head with a slight smile. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Thank you, too. And thank the Rogues for your mother and I," he said.

Luke's smile widened. "We're glad to do this."

"I know. But you still deserve to be thanked," Obi Wan said as they reached the bottom of the ramp.

"I'll tell them," Luke promised. He waited for Leia and Ani to step off the ramp as well, then leaned toward his sister to peck her cheek before jogging further up the hangar toward his X-Wing. Ani stepped closer to Leia's right side to bridge the gap left by Luke's departure as the rest of the Kenobis watched him scramble into the fighter. Once he was gone, they then turned to see the Falcon lift off and disappear into the sky.

Obi Wan felt a crushing weight settle atop his chest and closed his eyes. Splitting up the family didn't sit well with him, no matter how logical the reason might be. It was necessary, of course, but there had been other times when necessity had led the Kenobis to temporarily part ways. None of those occassions had turned out well. Sending Leia to Alderaan as a girl had thrown her into danger and ultimately led to a whole host of emotional difficulties for her which centered either directly around the family or around Darth Vader, who although she didn't know it yet, was intimately bound up with the Kenobis, part of the legacy that their Jedi heritage afforded them. The aborted mission to Alderaan which had ended on the Death Star had occasioned another kind of familial split and that had resulted in even more trauma for the entire family and especially for Ani and Isaly.

One day, of course, Ani intended to take _his_ family back to Tatooine to work the Lars' farm. Luke and Leia would eventually have families of their own and in all likelihood move away from him and Padme as well. That was natural and to be expected. Forced separations like these--with parts of the family secreted away or at least kept apart for reasons of safety in wartime were another matter. Beyond all that, he and Padme had suffered more than their share of this kind of thing during the Clone Wars, and the last thing either of them wanted was to relive those anguished times now.

"Are you all right, Dad?" Leia asked, slipping a hand onto his shoulder.

"What--? Oh," he turned toward her with a smile. "Yes, darling, thank you."

She nodded and looked down at the datapad in her hands. She bit her lip tentatively, studying it without turning it on. Ani leaned over her shoulder, giving her a half-smile. "How about you, Sis?"

"I don't know," she admitted, still staring at the small, blank screen in her hands.

"You don't have to start now, you know," Ani reminded her.

"I think I want to. It's just that her whole life is in here," Leia frowned, looking slowly toward Obi Wan with a mix of perplexity and hopeful curiosity.

His smile widened, and he reached over to activate the device. An entry query appeared on the screen, and though he knew that Padme had written a fairly lengthy introduction for Leia, he bypassed it for the moment. She had added the entries in descending chronological order by date, and to find what he wanted, he simply substituted an entry date command and the numeric string 13:5:23

"Read it aloud," he told Leia. "I think Ani might like this too."

She looked questioningly at her brother, who shrugged in reply. Then she turned back to the pad and began to read. _"Obi Wan gave his final report to the Jedi Council yesterday afternoon. He said that he's going to try to talk to Master Windu again about Anakin before he leaves, but one way or another, he'll be here tomorrow. It's very late, but I'm too excited to sleep. Too nervous. Sola tells me I'm behaving like a giddy adolescent, but really I never acted this way when I was that age, so I wouldn't know._

"All I really know tonight is that everything reminds me of him. Even the new tablecloth. I know that's ridiculous, but the first thing I thought when Mom spread it on the table was that it was exactly the same color as Obi Wan's eyes. I remember exactly how they looked before he kissed me on Geonosis.

At the same time, I realize it's all just silly. I mean, we've known each other for years. How can I suddenly be so infatuated? I had an audience with the queen this afternoon and I couldn't stay focused at all. I've never been like this! Yet, there I was daydreaming about what it would be like when he was finally here.

I'm sure it will be a big adjustment for him, and it'll take him a little while to just be himself around my family, but I can already see how wonderful he'll be with Pooja and Ryoo. And I just know that Mom and Dad will love him. Sola and Darred, too. The only thing I'm a little worried about is having to share the bedroom. From what he and Anakin have both said, he's not a very heavy sleeper. What if he hears me snoring or something--?"

Here, Leia broke off the narrative as she and Ani burst out laughing. Obi Wan smirked quietly, waiting for them to compose themselves. Then he waved a hand toward the datapad again.

"Go on, Leia, finish it," he prompted.

"All right," she said, still grinning. As she began to read again, though, her brow creased. "Wait a second. There's an annotation flag here."

"What?" Obi Wan raised an eyebrow. "When did she put that in?"

"Looks like it's dated this morning," replied Leia. "Should I read it?

"No, I don't think so," Obi Wan replied with a slight cough.

"I do," Ani spoke up.

"Of course you do," Obi Wan sighed.

Leia shook her head and called up Padme's annotation, stifling another laugh as she began to read. _"For the record, Leia, I do not snore. I'm sure your father is standing right there, so you can ask him, too. In fact, you can tell him that I think he's very funny. Mom."_


	102. The Fear of Changing

The flight out was every bit as rough as Han and the Rogues anticipated. Within minutes, the _Falcon_ was being battered with Imperial cannon fire. Han was hard pressed to keep them from being hit, and Isaly could only guess that with all the high-velocity spatial acrobatics that he was putting the ship through, the Rogues were just as busy keeping fighters off the _Falcon's_ back.

Not surprisingly, Shmi was more excited than frightened by the ordeal. The twins were agitated both by the exhilaration and fear they picked up from those around them and by the physical jarring they received as a result of Han's spinning and diving to avoid the Imperial turbolasers. Isaly and Padme had their hands full with the challenge of soothing them while also keeping Shmi from racing into the cockpit to "help" Han and Chewie.

Fortunately, though, the hammering only lasted for a few minutes. Han was an old hand at running this particular blockade, not to mention generally managing to evade Imperial attack and pursuit. They were rattled badly but unharmed as the _Falcon_ cleared the Yavin system, and Han jumped to hyperspace immediately afterward.

As soon as they were safe, Shmi snapped off her safety harness and scrambled for the cockpit. Isaly shook her head but let the girl go, having enough to handle with her brothers at the moment. She and Padme quickly undid the twins' restraining seats and lifted them out, then spent the next several minutes rocking and walking with them around the lounge.

They weren't at all inclined to be comforted, especially Junior, who was particularly unhappy about the jostling Han had given him. That finally changed when Padme convinced his brother to take a bottle, at which point Junior eyed his Obi-Too for a moment, blinked, and then looked rather pointedly up at Isaly. She laughed quietly, letting out a relieved breath as she moved to get him one as well.

Then she sank down beside Padme, frowning as she noted her mother-in-law's far away expression. "You okay, Mom?"

"What?" Padme turned in surprise. "Oh. Yes, honey, thank you."

"What's on your mind?" Isaly asked.

"I was just remembering when Dad and I left Alderaan after the Clone Wars," Padme explained.

"Were Luke and Leia this upset?" Isaly wanted to know.

"Well, they weren't as vocal, but they weren't happy, I can tell you that. At least until your father-in-law came running back down the _Tantive's_ ramp to get Leia and I," Padme chuckled.

"I'll bet Master Yoda thought he was crazy," smiled Isaly.

"Poor Yoda probably thought we'd all gone crazy. Obi Wan, Bail, and I were grinning like idiots," Padme explained. "Dad told him that we Kenobis were a family and as long as we were alive, we belonged together."

"It must be really hard for the two of you to be apart like this," Isaly bit her lip.

"It is," Padme nodded. "But, when Dad and Yoda were planning to split up Ani and the twins to keep them safe from the Empire, he told me that the two of us were never really apart. He was wrong about splitting up the family. He was right about that."

"I hope Ani and I can be you and Dad in twenty years, Mom," Isaly smiled a bit wistfully. She and Ani would always love one another, but lately she had felt anything but the kind of connection with her husband that Padme was describing. She knew that every couple experienced times of difficulty, and it seemed as though they were on their way to reaching a compromise in regard to Anakin Skywalker which would at least put them both on the same side again.

"Don't hope, honey," Padme told her. "Decide."

Isaly blinked at the comment, then her brow furrowed as she began to consider its implications. She pursed her lips thoughtfully, weighing possible responses, but Shmi came stomping in from the cockpit before she could find an appropriate one. She raised an eyebrow questioningly as Shmi flung herself down between her and Padme and crossed her arms.

"Han's cranky!" she huffed.

"Cranky?" Isaly repeated.

"He say I talk to much and go back in here," explained Shmi with a scowl.

Isaly and Padme shared a knowing look. Then Isaly gave Shmi a conspiratorial wink. "Well, sweetheart, would you like to feed Junior while I go see if I can find out why your Master is so fussy?"

"Okay," grinned Shmi.

She was well used to holding and feeding the twins by then, so it didn't take Isaly long to get her and Junior comfortably arranged beside Padme. Then she walked off into the cockpit, coming quietly up behind Han and Chewie's chairs. Han started to speak before he had fully turned to look at her.

"Listen, kid, I thought I told you to--oh," he broke off awkwardly.

"Shmi's right," Isaly remarked, lips twitching in amusement.

"Oh yeah? What about?" Han wanted to know.

"She says you're cranky."

"She what?"

"Now why would you be cranky, Captain Solo?" Isaly asked.

Chewie rumbled with laughter and Han glared from his first mate to Isaly. "I am not cranky!"

"So, why did you kick her out?"

"She talks non-stop. It's distracting," Han replied.

"It's never bothered you before," pointed out Isaly.

"Yeah, well, now she's back on her kick about me marrying Leia," Han grumbled. "You really gotta tell her to cut that out."

"You tell her. You're her Master," Isaly reminded him.

"Right," Han sighed. "Y'know, it would be a big help if the rest of you didn't feed her that stuff. I don't know where you get it anyway. Leia doesn't even like me half the time."

"Haven't you ever heard of 'hard to get'?" Isaly challenged.

"Sure I have. You ever heard of a girl who wouldn't know 'hard to get' from the barrel of a blaster?" Han retorted.

Isaly chuckled. "She likes you a lot more than you think, Han."

"She's got a funny way of demonstrating her affections," he rolled his eyes again. "The rest of you can just keep scheming. It ain't gonna happen."

"There's a rule when it comes to scheming families. You have to resist them, at least at first. Just on principle," Isaly smirked. "At least that's what Mom tells me."

"You know what I think?" Han asked.

"I have a good idea," replied Isaly.

"I think the whole bunch of you are just nuts!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah," admitted Isaly. "But it's a lot less painful if you don't fight us so much."

"Oh, of course," Han sighed.

"Han," Isaly asked thoughtfully. "Have you ever had a girl bring you home to her family before?"

Han's eyes bulged. "Why does everybody keep insisting she's my girl? Besides--it's not like she brought me anywhere. That was the rest of you."

"That's irrelevant," shrugged Isaly. "And I don't see you denying that she's your girl."

Han stared at her silently for a second, then jabbed a finger at her. He opened his mouth to give some sharp retort, but it never came out. His jaw clacked shut and he scrubbed his face with his hand. "Nevermind."

Chewie laughed again, then turned to Isaly with the Wookiee version of a smirk. She returned it, giving his furry shoulder an affectionate squeeze. Han glared.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded.

Chewie whined an innocent protest.

"It's not so bad, y'know," Isaly remarked.

"What?"

"Being part of a family," shrugged Isaly. "It made me nervous at first, too, but the Kenobis are good people."

"Yeah," Han muttered as he turned back to the control panel in front of him. "That's the problem."

"Oh, I get it," nodded Isaly. "You think we're all oblivious. Easy marks for a con?"

"No! Listen, Mom and D--Obi--the--"

"Yeah…?" Isaly bit her lip to stifle a laugh.

"_They_," Han corrected himself, waving vaguely toward the cockpit entrance to indicate Obi Wan and Padme, "have been around the block a few times."

"Oh, so it's just the rest of us who are stupid," Isaly arched an eyebrow.

_"Nobody's stupid,"_ Han stated firmly. "It's just that when it comes to people, you all get a little soft in the head."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!" Han nodded emphatically.

"Why, because we choose to believe the best of people?" challenged Isaly.

"Exactly," Han replied.

"You'd prefer we assumed the worst of you? Never gave you a fair shake?"

"Come on," he sighed.

"What?"

"That ain't what I meant," he shook his head.

"Well, what did you mean then?"

"You guys got the wrong idea about me, that's all," he said.

"So, what's the right idea?" Isaly crossed her arms.

"Look. I'm a smuggler! I run spice and illegal weapons and…liberated goods. My job is to get people the stuff they want, whether the Empire wants 'em to have it or not. And I _like_ what I do! As soon as you Kenobis figure that out--as soon as you realize you ain't gonna turn me into some kinda _freedom fighter_ I'll be out faster 'n I knew what hit me. Padme and the old man ain't gonna want me around their daughter," he declared.

"We don't want to turn you into anything," Isaly regarded him calmly. "And I think you're doing a fair amount of underestimating."

"Maybe I'm just going by experience," Han muttered.

Isaly smiled knowingly and turned to leave. "I think you'll find that we Kenobis are full of surprises."

Han had managed not to be fuming by the time the next person appeared in his cockpit. At least, he wasn't muttering to himself or banging things around anymore, which he supposed counted for not fuming. He twisted in the pilot's seat, expecting to see Isaly again. Instead he found Padme, but he had opened his mouth without realizing which Kenobi was there, and the words cracked through the air between them before he was able to clamp his lips shut again.

"Y'know, this is a cockpit, not your kitchen table--"

Padme raised her eyebrows. "I noticed."

He winced, covering his eyes with his hand. "Sorry. I thought you were--nevermind."

She walked up behind him, silently placing her hand on his shoulder. He let his hand fall away from his eyes and frowned down at her fingers as they tightened in a gentle squeeze much like the one that Isaly had given Chewie earlier. Shaking his head, he brought his attention back to the panel in front of him.

"We should be comin' out of hyperspace in a few minutes," he said uncomfortably.

"I know. I don't think I've had a chance to thank you," she replied.

"Look, will everybody _stop thankin' me?!" _he sighed explosively.

"I don't mean for getting us of of Yavin 4," she chuckled.

"I did somethin' else?" his brow furrowed in confusion, and he craned his neck to look up at her.

"I wanted to thank you for following through on that promise you made to Shmi about being her Master. I realize that you may not have meant it as anything more than a way to make her happy, but it means a lot to her. I can't speak for anyone else, but I can tell you that I'm glad she'll have someone to teach her things she might miss out on as a Jedi Padawan."

"Huh…?"

"I'm sure that someday Ani or Obi Wan will teach her the ways of the Force, and that's as it should be. Jedi tradition is part of her heritage, and when it comes time for that, I can't think of better mentors for her. There are other things she'll need to know in order to get along in this galaxy, though. Some of them are things that Isaly or I could teach her, but others I think are going to have to come from you."

"Yeah, great. Guess it's a good thing I turned up when I did then, huh?" he asked sarcastically.

"I think so," Padme replied.

"I still think you're all nuts," Han rolled his eyes.

"That's all right," she smiled. "But there's something else I wanted to ask you. A favor."

Now his eyebrows rose. He wasn't a man to do favors for people, generally, but the very fact that Padme Kenobi was asking for one gave him pause. "What kinda favor?"

"When the base is evacuated, I want you to make sure Obi Wan leaves. Make sure he gets to the fleet safely," Padme said.

"What?" Han's jaw dropped, but he quickly shut his mouth. "He's a Jedi Master, and he's got a battalion of kids. What's he need _me_ lookin' out for him for?"

"Our kids are too much like him," Padme smiled. "Ani and Luke are both like their father in different ways, and Leia's probably the most duty-conscious of all of them. They'd all stand in the middle of a stampede if they thought it would help someone else get out of the way."

"Yeah, guess they would," Han smirked. "But so would you."

"No, I'd be one herding everyone else out of the way," Padme shook her head. "In this case, though, I won't be there."

"I ain't much of a shepherd," Han told her. The fact was, he was rather surprised at the way this entire conversation was going. Padme was the last person he figured would have use for the kinds of things that _he_ might teach her grandkids. Now on top of that, she apparently wanted him watching her husband's back on Yavin 4.

"I think you can handle it," she replied easily.

"Why are you askin' me to do this?" he wanted to know.

"Obi Wan may be a Jedi Master and a respected general, but to me he's something more. He's my husband. My best friend. And I still need him," she said.

Han took in that information with a slow nod, and wet his lips. "Yeah…but why me?"

She smiled again. "Han, my children remind me of their father. You remind me of his brother."

"I didn't know he had a brother," Han frowned.

"Not in the way you mean," Padme said. "Jedi weren't allowed contact with their natural families. Obi Wan had an apprentice once, a long time ago, who grew up to be like a brother to him. His name was Anakin Skywalker."

"Anakin?"

"Ani was named for him," Padme nodded. "Anakin broke several rules in order to save Obi Wan, who was in trouble on Yavin 4, and then brought him back to Coruscant just in time to save our newborn son."

"Sounds like a helluva guy," Han remarked.

"He was."

"What happened to him?"

Padme drew a breath and slowly let it out again, not replying for a long moment. Then she explained solemnly, "We lost him. On Mustafar, just at the end of the Clone Wars. Obi Wan has never really forgiven himself for not being able to save him."


	103. Even In Darkness

_Dreams continued to plague Ani after Isaly and the kids left Yavin 4, but that wasn't what drove him into the jungle now. What pushed him was the nagging sense of something--someone--familiar in the darkness he had felt. That familiarity was not comforting, however. On the contrary, it left him with an uneasy knot in the pit of his stomach and spurred him to extra caution as he traversed the steamy, green wilderness._

Searching his feelings, he had become certain that the presence he continued to sense was in some way connected to the darkness that his visions had shown him surrounding Shmi. A threat to himself or to what remained of the Jedi Order, he might have allowed to wait. A threat directly associated with one of his children, however, was another matter.

His brother's X-Wing had taken damage in the flight through the blockade, and the stress of the high-speed evasive tactics required during the escape had exacerbated the problem enough that, by the time Rogue Flight reached Ackbar's fleet, the fighter required extensive repairs. That meant that Luke's return to Yavin 4 would be delayed for at least a week, and Ani wasn't prepared to wait that long.

So, Isaly found herself watching as her husband picked his way through the jungle alone, following some combination of half-remembered dreams and the pull of the Force. His movements were not the uncanny, utterly silent ambulation of a Force adept, but neither were they a normal man's clumsy blundering through the mud and thick foliage. He was still a Jedi, whether his body agreed with that assessment or not, and deep in dreams, Isaly could feel his awareness of the land through which he walked--his connection to the Force, which was far keener and more developed than her own.

Seeing through his eyes was like having her own senses turned up a notch. Colors were sharper, more vibrant, and everything she took seemed more crisp and clean, yet she was also conscious of an underlying connectedness, a crystalline flow which teased the edges of his visual range and gave them an almost physical perception of the Force. Following the twisted, gnarled line of a branch with his eyes, she saw bark which stood out in stark relief against the lush green of the vegetation around it. Beneath the lumpy, wrinkled brown wood, though, motion whispered, flowing downward through the trunk of the tree, outward into the other branches, beyond them into the plants and rocks around it..

A ripple directed Ani's attention to the black mouth of a cave nearby, and he paused. His brow creased, then he stepped cautiously forward. A twig snapped underfoot, louder to his ears than Isaly would have expected. He froze, holding himself perfectly still for several heartbeats, and as he waited, she became aware of the scurrying of insects and other life forms that his misstep had disturbed. Birds fluttered through the trees, then settled again, but Ani didn't move on right away.

The mistake annoyed him, she realized. He shouldn't have made it. In the Force, he had known that there was a twig there. Without conscious thought, he had moved his foot with the intention of avoiding it. Yet his heel had still managed to come down exactly where he didn't want it to go. The difference was only a matter of centimeters, but the effect was more than enough. If there was someone out here, the damage might well be done, all because his legs were dependent upon mechanical reflexes.

His limbs were far from the cumbersome and ungainly things that his uncle had been burdened with. Still, they were not alive--they weren't part of him, and they were far too awkward and imprecise for his needs. Much like Vader, he felt that he was lumbering from place to place rather than walking. The agility that he had once taken for granted was now only a distant memory which seemed to belong to another man..

The thought triggered other memories, and before Isaly could latch on to any outrage against Vader in order to anchor herself, she was swept along with him in a swirl of dreams within dreams, memories and sensations that were neither hers nor truly his. They were the sensations of Anakin Skywalker, trapped within the confines of a pressurized bodysuit, unable to breathe through his own lungs, closed in on all sides by the helmet which so limited his vision, dragged down by constant dead weight of ill-fitting mechnos.

Raised on the expansively open desert world of Tatooine, Isaly had little experience with any kind of permanently tight or enclosed space. Ani's memories of Coruscant were vague enough to have little effect, where his recollections of the open desert were sharp and immediate. Claustrophobic panic filled them both. The world began to close in around them, and Isaly felt as if she was being crushed and suffocated at the same time. There wasn't enough room for her, but there was no way out, no where to go--no air. She would have screamed, but there was no air when she opened her mouth. What little remained in their lungs burned, at once like fire and a hot knife that had been stuck into Ani's chest. The more he fought for breath, the more that knife twisted itself around, trying to carve her heart out of her body.

She tried to tell herself that it wasn't her body. It was his, and this was his nightmare, but she was trapped in it with him, her head pounding from lack of oxygen--or from fear--she couldn't tell. Ani was reaching for the Force, reaching for his Jedi training and the calm center within him, but Isaly had no such teaching to fall back on. His head felt disconnected from his neck, disorienting him further, driving her panic to a new level as they began to go numb in hands and feet that already didn't belong to them.

Darkness began to swim in on them, crowding out the vision that had been so startlingly clear a few moments ago. Blindly, desperately, Ani reached further into the Force. He staggered backwards, clinging to the tree with one arm as he fought for and gained the calm that could only belong to a Jedi.

His vision opened up again, shadows swirling away to leave his eyes dazzled by the glaring sun. He blinked twice, then squinted to see through the purple-red splotches in front of his face. Finally, he made out the advancing shape of humanoid--female by its contours, and in her hand the magenta flare of a weapon he knew better than the blaster which flew into his own hand--

Isaly bolted upright in bed, both hands clutching her throat. With a pained gasp, she realized that there was air again, and she sucked it in despite the continued pain and pressure in her chest. For a while she could only gasp and pant for breath, her entire body quaking and drenched in cold sweat. Somewhere nearby, the twins were screaming, but she couldn't move even to go to them.

Then the door to her bedroom slid open, the bright white gap filled with a familiar shadow. She found her voice as he stepped inside, and while his footsteps crossed the short distance from the doorway to her bed, she let out the scream which had been building even in the nightmare. Luke's hands came down on her shoulders.

"Isaly! Easy, it's okay now, you're awake!" he said as he dropped on to the bed.

_"Anakin!"_

"It's okay," Luke repeated, pulling her against his chest. "It's over now. It was a dream."

She shook her head, clinging to her brother-in-law with shaking arms. "She'll kill him!"

Luke had begun to rub gentle circles on her back, but the motion stilled as she spoke. He didn't react for a second, and Isaly dragged another breath into her lungs, struggling to calm herself. She didn't pull away from him though, drawing comfort from his closeness and the reassuring strength of his arms.

"Who?" he asked.

"I--I don't know," she replied. "I saw it. Something happened to him in the jungle. This woman--I don't know who she is, she found him. She--she had a lightsaber."

"Ani wouldn't go into the jungle alone--"

"Luke, he did. I'm telling you, he _did_--or--he will. If you're not there, he will," she insisted.

"It'll only be a more few days--"

"No. Luke. You have to go _now!"_ she insisted, this time pulling back to look up at him. It was too dark to clearly see his face, but she could make out the tightening of his jaw.

"I'll get Han to take me in the _Falcon_," he nodded, getting up again.

"Thank you," she said as she swung her legs to the floor and stood up as well.

"Don't worry, Isaly," he assured her, already spinning on his heel.

She grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and followed him out. Padme and Wedge were already in the main room that adjoined the family's three bedrooms. Both of them had a twin in their arms, though Padme was doing a better job of calming Obi-Too than Wedge was with Junior. Isaly smiled, shaking off the rest of her nightmare to take him from the pilot.

"What's goin' on?" asked a beleaguered Han as he appeared in the doorway of the kids' room with Shmi attached to his right leg.

"Han, Isaly says we have to leave. Now," Luke told him, not stopping on his route to the door.

"What? Where? Why?" Han demanded.

"Back to Yavin--"

"I told you Daddy's in trouble!" Shmi fired up at him. "I coming too!"

"_No,_ Little One. Daddy's not in trouble yet. Han and Uncle Luke will get there in time, but we have to let them go," Isaly told her firmly.

She scowled darkly, but disentangled herself from the smuggler's leg. Luke barreled out the door as she stood up, taking no time to witness the inevitable outcome of this contest of wills. He didn't pause in the hallway, but turned to look back over his shoulder toward Wedge.

"Rogue two, you're in command until we rendezvous on Yavin 4," he directed.

"But Luke, you have to--"

"No time!" he yelled, not stopping.

Han looked up at the ceiling and slapped the side of his leg in exasperation. "Well, I guess I'd better get after him before they both get themselves killed."

He raced off after Luke, and both Wedge and Padme chuckled as the door closed behind him. With the dream sensations now fading and the assurance that both Luke and Han would be there to help her husband, Isaly found that she could laugh along. There were those among the Rebel Alliance who still questioned Han's loyalties. Some simply dismissed him, deciding that a Rogue pilot was one thing, but a rogue like Solo was quite another. They would never see him as trustworthy, and Han would do nothing to change their minds because he didn't care one whit what those people had to say about him.

Isaly had to admit that she hadn't always been sure of him, either, but watching him with her daughter had begun to change that. Seeing what he'd done in order to get herself, Padme, and the children to safety had cemented her opinion of him. She had no doubt that he meant the things he'd told her on the _Falcon._ He was a smuggler, and he enjoyed the life of a scoundrel. He would never be less than that. Like Wedge, Leia, and the rest of this family, though, Isaly had come to realize that there was far more to Han than money.

Shmi walked over to her, pressing herself against Isaly's side in a rather forlorn show of worry. She heaved a tremendous sigh, staring at the Alliance insignia painted on the two halves of the door. Isaly smiled softly and shifted Junior in order to reach one hand down and stroke her daughter's hair.

"Little One, do you remember the first lesson Han taught you?"

Shmi frowned, craning her neck to peer up at her mother. "Never trust a Corellian."

"Well, I'm changing it. Never trust a Corellian _unless_ his name is Han Solo. He'll take care of them."

"No," Wedge spoke up.

Isaly raised her eyebrows, giving the pilot a surprised look. "What?"

"They'll all take care of each other. That's the Kenobi way, isn't it?" he shrugged.

"Yes," Padme smiled. "It is."


	104. Farmboys Brilliant

Blindly, desperately, Ani reached further into the Force. He staggered backwards, clinging to the tree with one arm as he fought for and gained the calm that could only belong to a Jedi.

His vision opened up again, shadows swirling away to leave his eyes dazzled by the glaring sun. He blinked twice, then squinted to see through the purple-red splotches in front of his face. Finally, he made out the advancing shape of humanoid--female by its contours, and in her hand the magenta flare of a weapon he knew better than the blaster which flew into his own hand.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The woman sighed in apparent irritation. "Really, Kenobi. Couldn't you think of anything more original?"

"Excuse me…?"

"Your father has a reputation for quick wit. I would've thought you'd be able to come up with something a little better than 'who are you?'" she said in a deceptively casual tone. The lightsaber in her hand hummed dangerously as she spun her wrist, gaining momentum for a quick strike as she closed the distance between them.

Ani dove out of the way, rolling onto his right side and directing the Force through his arm as he did so. Pushing off the ground with his elbow, he sailed upward, stretching his left hand to reach for a heavy vine in one of the nearby trees. The angle was awkward and the motion somewhat clumsy, but given the current limitations of his hands, it was the best he could manage. His fingers closed on the vine a hairsbreadth too slowly, causing him to slide back down a bit before gaining a proper grip.

"Okay, then, how about _why are you trying to kill me?_" he winced as he swung around on the vine, intending to deliver a kick to right shoulder and hopefully jar the arm enough to dislodge the saber. Firing his blaster while she still held it would be not only useless but downright dangerous, since she could easily redirect the energy bolts back at him.

He also knew that he had little chance of defeating a Force adept of any kind in combat, and there were few people left who could have taught the woman the construction of this particular weapon. Of those whose last name was _not_ Kenobi, Ani knew only one who didn't harbor intense feelings of dislike for the family. Yoda certainly wouldn't have sent anyone to kill him, and he didn't think that Vader would have either, which left Palpatine--and _that_ made it a certainty that she was dangerous with or without the lightsaber. With it, however, dangerous became deadly.

"Because you're a Kenobi," she said in response to his question, spinning as she spoke in order to slice the vine in two.

"Oh, _fantastic_ reasoning!" he retorted as he dropped toward the ground again. He didn't resist but reached for a low-hanging branch and flipped himself up onto it. He shoved the blaster back into the holster on his hip and scrambled higher, pulling himself up with his arms, but he quickly realized that this was going to accomplish little.

She followed him up, and he leapt out of the tree, letting the Force carry him across the jungle to another waiting branch. The hum of her lightsaber reached his ears, and he knew that he wasn't going to be safe there for very long, so he gathered in more of the ambient Force energy around him and sprung off again. The Force cushioned the drop and compensated for the unevenness of the landing, which allowed him to keep his footing.

The mouth of the cave was now directly behind him, and he ran for it without making a conscious decision to do so. As he slipped into the darkened interior of the cavern, he realized that this could well be a mistake. He had no idea what was in here or how deep the cave itself ran. If there wasn't another way out, he would have just trapped himself into a confrontation with an enemy whom he knew that he was incapable of defeating. The Force had led him to this place, though. It had pulled him here before he'd had any idea who or what he was looking for, and it had drawn him inside now. There had to be something, some _reason_ for that leading.

A deeper shadow became apparent in the darkness. Drawing on the Force to heighten his visual acuity, Ani could discern the metallic form of a starfighter. He darted for it, but by now his assailant was hard on his trail. He caught a flash of purple light and skidded to a halt, jerking back as she leapt over his head and landed, slashing toward his chest.

"Hey, can't we talk about this?" he asked, hurling himself backward and barely avoiding the tip of her blade.

"Talk," she replied casually.

His legs were slightly too far ahead of him as he landed, and he pinwheeled his arms in a vain attempt to keep his balance. His back struck the stone wall of the cave behind him, and he lost the thread of whatever argument he'd been about to attempt as he struggled to regain his footing.

"Uh…"

"Brilliant. Can I kill you now or do you mean to embarrass yourself a bit more?"

"I guess you can't!" called a familiar voice.

Ani let out a long breath in relief. The woman, however, only smirked, showing no surprise at all in regard to Luke's sudden arrival. She didn't turn but took another step in Ani's direction. He heard the _snap-hiss_ of Luke's lightsaber, but again their adversary was unconcerned.

"Listen, farmboy junior, I'll be with you as soon as I've finished with Ani here. You'll just have to wait a moment," she quipped.

"I'm not exactly the patient type!" Luke shot back, rushing forward.

"Of course not," the woman sighed again, lunging toward Ani before the sentence had completely passed her lips. He flung himself sideways, once more using the Force to cushion the impact. The jagged edge of a large rock dug into his shoulder, He rolled off of it with a grunt, turning just in time to see their enemy pivot to catch the downswing of Luke's blue blade on the side of her own.

The two weapons clashed and squealed, but the momentum of Luke's attack threw him off balance, and his opponent simply stepped aside to send him stumbling toward the wall. Ani reached out through the Force, seizing several of the jagged stones which littered the floor of the cave, and raised his arm, hurling them in her direction.

"Hey!" he shouted.

She spun toward him, her lightsaber whirling in a half circle which easily deflected or disintegrated the projectiles, but he hadn't been hoping to actually hit her with them. The distraction gave Luke the moment he needed to recover, and the rocks themselves shattered into tiny, needle-sharp slivers which swirled through the air between the combatants like a sandstorm. Another Force push sent that storm directly into her face.

Luke took the advantage his brother gave him, stepping toward her again with a high cut aimed at her right wrist. Having been drilled in Jedi principles of combat, his goal was to end the battle as quickly as possible while causing the least amount of physical damage to his adversary. This particular adversary, however, was no Jedi. The momentary loss of sight didn't seem to slow her down in the slightest, and the sting of the needles in her eyes made her furious--as did Luke's attempt to take her saber hand in a moment of weakness.

The anger sharpened her focus, and she channeled it into her counter-attack, easily blocking Luke's blow and forcing him to step back. He gave ground slightly, but not as much as she would have liked. The two blades clashed again, becoming a blur of intersecting color in the dark cavern as the two warriors began to battle in earnest.

Ani rolled to his feet and pulled his blaster, edging carefully toward them. There was no way he could get a clear shot, though. No yet. Even with the Force to aid him, Luke and the stranger were too close, moving too quickly. He had no choice but to wait, keeping himself open and ready for the moment they would break apart again. Footsteps sounded near the mouth of the cave, running toward them, Han Solo's familiar silhouette came into view on the opposite side of the dueling pair. He leveled his own blaster at them, but like Ani, held himself still.

The blue blade arched downward toward where the woman's leg should have been, but the magenta one again intercepted it, and they raised their arms together, each using the Force to try to push the other back. Luke gave ground again, but his defenses were solid. The blue blade flashed right, down, left, back up again in a perfect circuit, guarding against each strike of the magenta one in his opponent's hands.

Then he whirled away, forcing her to follow. In that instant of separation, Han and Ani both fired, but she sprang away, vaulting toward the cavern's high ceiling. Both men spun aside to avoid each other's crossfire, leaving Luke to take on the next volley of attack alone.

"Thanks, guys…"

The woman had by then realized that she was outnumbered, if not exactly outmatched, though. By the time Ani and Han scrambled back to their feet, she was heading toward the fighter. A Force leap had her on the wing of the craft, but before she could slip inside, Luke had bounded up beside her. She spun quickly before Ani or Han could take another shot, aiming a Force-empowered kick at the boy's chest. Her booted heel connected squarely, sending him sailing backward to land with a loud crunch and skid backward into the wall.

"Ow…"

Han and Ani ran toward him, falling to their knees on either side of him. As they did, the fighter lifted off and shot out of the cave, angling onto its side to clear the opening. Luke struggled to sit up, seemingly intent on going after her, but the older men both laid one of their hands on his shoulders.

"She's getting away!" he protested.

"Let her go, kid," Ani advised. "There's no way we'd catch her now, even in the _Falcon_."

"Hey!" Han objected.

"Okay, _probably_ no way," amended Ani.

"That ain't much better," muttered Han.

"Come on, you two, will ya cut it out?" Luke sighed as he fought his way to his feet. He made it to his knees and then fell back again, overcome by a wave of dizziness.

Ani and Han slid their arms around his back to support him, hefting his weight off the floor of the cave. Once they had him standing, they peered questioningly into his face, waiting for him to nod before they backed away.

"Who was she, anyway?" Han wanted to know.

"I don't know. I don't know who…or what she was," Ani replied.

Luke winced, holding a hand to the back of his head. "Well, I have a feeling we're going to find out."

"Yeah, well, let's not stick around here waiting for her to come back," suggested Han. "Next time she'll bring along her Imperial buddies."

"I don't think she's Imperial," Luke shook his head.

"She had to learn the Jedi Arts from somewhere, Luke," Ani frowned.

"I know that," he said, taking a cautious step away from them. "But look--it looks like she was camped out in here. And we haven't picked up any sign of an Imperial presence on the planet. I think she was by herself."

"Which means what…?" Ani's frown deepened.

"I don't know," Luke said again, giving his head a slow shake. "Just a feeling."


	105. What Your Feelings Tell You

The next day, the remains of Mara's campsite were marked off and analyzed by the Rebellion, but even with Obi Wan to help them, no clue to her identity was uncovered. Qui-Gon hadn't expected anything to turn up, at least initially, but he sat atop a boulder at the mouth of the cave, his head resting glumly in his hands. The analysis team exited the cavern first, followed by Rogue flight, which had trailed Luke back to Yavin 4 as soon as Wedge could scramble the rest of the pilots. Han, Chewie, and the Kenobis came out next, but while Han and Chewie immediately headed toward the cluster of speeders nearby, the Kenobis lingered by the cave.

Han stopped short, paused, then looked over his shoulder. "You guys comin'?"

"Go on with the others if you like," Obi Wan said with a wave. "We'll be along."

Han sighed and shot a knowing look at Chewie. "Go ahead, pal. I'll see ya back at the base."

The Wookiee growled a protest.

"I said go on!" Han told him. "I'll be fine. I got three Jedi to look after me and the Princess here to keep them in line."

Leia rolled her eyes, and Chewie groaned loudly, giving his head an adamant shake.

"Well, I know Ani and Luke weren't much of a match for her before, but the old man's here now, and I don't think she's dumb enough to--"

Chewie cut him off with an even louder series of howls. Han held up his hands to still his friend's argument. "All right, all right, pipe down will ya? We'll both stay. You guys go back to the base," he added, waving a hand at Wedge and the rest of the pilots.

They didn't move.

Luke smiled quietly. "It's okay, guys. Head on in; we won't be long."

They trooped off to the speeders and climbed in, and Han watched them disappear in the direction of Massassi station with a mystified shake of his head. Chewie started toward the Kenobis again, but paused when he realized that Han wasn't moving. The smuggler crossed his arms, putting on the appearance of bored exasperation. Chewie grumbled quietly and hung his shaggy head, but lumbered back the other way and stood beside him.

"What did you think you were doing out here, Ani?" Leia demanded suddenly. "I thought we agreed that you were going to wait for Luke?"

"We did," he nodded.

"Well?" she said impatiently.

"I'm sorry," Ani replied, moving his gaze slowly to include each of them in the apology. "It was a mistake."

"You could've been killed," she grit her teeth.

"I said I'm sorry, Sis," Ani repeated calmly.

"Leia," Obi Wan laid a placating hand on her arm. "Luke was here in time, thanks to Han. He handled it. No one was hurt badly."

Leia closed her eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry, Ani."

"It's all right," he shook his head dismissively. "But there was…something else. Something pulled me here. I was looking for her but that wasn't what drew me to this place."

Obi Wan smiled faintly and turned to look back toward the cave, but he didn't say anything. The twins both frowned at their brother's statement, and Luke looked particularly troubled. It was Leia who finally spoke again, and though she had noticed her father's preoccupation, she decided not to address it.

"Do you have any idea what?"

"No," Ani shook his head.

"There is something…" Luke trailed off.

"Almost familiar…?" Leia's eyes widened, and she looked from one brother to the other questioningly.

"But not quite," Ani nodded.

"Oh, brother," Han rolled his eyes.

Chewie grumbled at him and he shook his head in disgust, then let his arms drop down to slap his sides impatiently. Obi Wan gave him a half smile, then looked back at his offspring. All three of them looked back with expressions that ranged from quizzical to pensive.

"This is the place where your Uncle Anakin and I first met Asajj Ventress," he explained.

"You mean when I was born?" Ani asked.

"Mmm-hmm," Obi Wan nodded.

Now Han perked up, interested despite himself. Padme had just told him this story a few days ago. "Who's this Ventress?"

"She was a Dark Jedi that Anakin Skywalker and I fought several times in the Clone Wars. After a while, I became convinced that she could be redeemed," replied Obi Wan.

"Somehow that don't surprise me," Han shook his head.

"She wasn't evil, Han," Obi Wan asserted. "Misled, angry, confused. But not evil."

"Right," he shrugged. "No skin off my nose either way."

"Shut up, Han," Leia sighed in exasperation.

"What happened to her, Dad?" Luke asked, ignoring the interchange.

"I don't know, son," replied Obi Wan with a shake of his head. "The last time I saw her was on Boz Pity. She turned from the Dark Side there and gave me the location of the Separatists' next target. But, she'd been fatally injured…or so we thought. I had her body placed on a med runner for transport back to Coruscant, but the ship disappeared. We have no idea what happened, but I can only assume that Ventress wasn't actually dead."

"Great. So y'think she's back to finish the job?" suggested Han.

"She would've been far too old now to be the woman who attacked you boys," Obi Wan shook his head. "Besides, she would've had no reason to."

"Maybe she's found herself an apprentice," Leia speculated.

"Even if she had. Why target any of us?" Obi Wan asked. "Her interest in killing me ended on Boz Pity. She turned."

"Then why here, Dad?" Ani frowned.

"What?"

"When I asked this woman who she was, she gave no answer. When I asked her why she was trying to kill me, the only response she had was, 'because you're a Kenobi.' To me that speaks of obsession, and by all accounts, Asajj Ventress wasn't just interested in killing you, she was obsessed. The Force led me to this place; it also led our redheaded friend here. It seems rather obvious that there's some connection to Ventress."

"Don't be so quick to assume," Obi Wan advised. "You have a remarkable sensitivity to the leading of the Living Force, Ani, but it's far from fool proof."

"I think Dad's right," Luke spoke up, his tone suddenly decisive. "Whoever this woman was, she wasn't connected to Asajj Ventress."

"Which leaves Palpatine," Ani said pointedly.

"Not necessarily," Luke shook his head. "She may have wanted to kill us, but she wasn't evil."

"Well, that makes no sense," Ani argued.

"Why not? Things don't have to be so black and white, Ani," Leia said, moving instinctively closer to her twin.

"I didn't say they had to be black and white," Ani shook his head. "But think about it. Palpatine has scoured the galaxy for decades, exterminating Light Side Force adepts like the Jedi and absorbing or killing off anyone powerful in the ways of the Dark Side. Who else is left?"

"Palpatine hasn't managed to kill us," Leia reminded him. "Maybe he missed someone else."

"Dad said there were rumors of other Jedi who survived Order 66," Luke pointed out.

"Which doesn't explain why she's now intent on killing anyone with the last name Kenobi," Ani reminded him.

"She's angry; she's probably been misled…or…or…" Luke bit his lip.

"By whom if not the Emperor?" questioned Ani.

"Any number of people," Leia said, sliding her arm supportively through Luke's and taking his hand. "Jedi aren't exactly well liked or trusted anymore, and the name Kenobi is the one that people have begun to recognize and associate with the Jedi Order since the Death Star."

"_Maybe_," Ani allowed, though his tone clearly said that he wasn't convinced.

"Kids," Obi Wan inserted himself calmly into the argument, holding up his hand to quell them. "We're all on the same side here. We'll find these answers in time. Be patient, all of you."

"Yes, Master," Ani bowed in acquiescence.

"All right, Dad," nodded Leia, offering a smile that encompassed both him and her brothers.

Luke held out a moment longer, but finally he smiled in return. "Yessir."

"All right, good. Now, let's head back. There's not much more we can learn out here today," Obi Wan directed.

The little group followed him off toward the remaining speeder, but Qui-Gon didn't go with them. He watched them cram into the vehicle, smiling faintly at Han's sarcastic offer to let Leia sit on his lap, but his amusement quickly faded as the speeder disappeared into the trees. Asajj Ventress was not the only one whose feelings might have been called obsessive during the Clone Wars. Obi Wan's conviction that she was alive after her last duel with Anakin on Coruscant and his relentless determination to track her down had made the Force spirit highly uneasy. Padme hadn't liked it either; that search had taken him away from the family again when this time he might have stayed. She had supported him, of course, and in the end he had been proven correct about the potential for her redemption. Still, while he couldn't fault his former Padawan's intent, the extent to which he had pursued Ventress had been dangerous, and not simply because she was a skilled and volatile adversary. Ani seemed to have inherited not only his father's ideology in this respect but his stubborn refusal to give up a redemptive quest, even when that redemption might cost his own life. Luke was already making his own connections between Ventress and Mara Jade, though not the ones that Han had misguidedly suggested. The problem was that both brothers were correct in their statements about the young woman.

She wasn't evil, but like so many others, she had been twisted and misled by Emperor Palpatine. He was her Master, and all she knew of the Kenobis was that they were his enemies--traitors to the Empire which she had been raised to believe was the just and rightful galactic government. More importantly, she knew that Palpatine hated them, which was why she had been so willing to attack Ani despite the fact that he was not the objective of her current mission. Having faced him and Luke in combat once, she now had her own reasons to seek them out again. She was still proving herself, still being tested by the Emperor, and the gift of the Kenobi boys' deaths was something that she knew would both please him and secure her place in the order of things. If Luke was going to chase after her the way his father once had Asajj Ventress, and if Ani would not relinquish his need to save Vader, then all might well come to depend on Leia, making the bond of family that the Kenobis now shared a liability rather than an asset by forcing her to face Sidious alone.

He sighed. The choice, of course, had always been theirs. Despite his continued presence in their lives and the influence that he still had over Ani and Obi Wan, he couldn't interfere.

Mace appeared beside him, calmly waiting for Qui-Gon to look up. He did so, slowly, moving only his eyes, and he sighed again. Mace raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

"This was a disaster," Qui-Gon complained.

"It might have been far worse," Mace pointed out.

"It was still a disaster," replied Qui-Gon. "They are not ready."

"Were you?" Mace's eyebrows rose again.

"They're different," Qui-Gon said.

"No Jedi is truly ready to face the Dark Side before the time comes. Half of the trial comes in realizing that the darkness is not where--or what--the Jedi expects it to be," Mace reminded him.

"The Dark Side is not what concerns me," Qui-Gon shook his head. "The point of a lightsaber is. Ani's injuries have been--debilitating; he's lost both skills he's come to rely on as second nature and the confidence to regain them. Luke is still harboring too much guilt. Leia might complete the training in time, but too much is still uncertain."

"Ani didn't seem to be lacking confidence when he decided to come out here alone," observed Mace.

"Stupidity and confidence are different things," Qui-Gon rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Perhaps you should have more faith in your protégés, Qui-Gon," Mace told him. "I may be able to help Ani as much as Yoda on Dagobah."

"If he stays there long enough," Qui-Gon agreed.

"Wasn't it you who first told Obi Wan that until the possible becomes actual, it is only a distraction?" Mace asked.

"The possible maybe a distraction; the eventual is giving me a headache," said Qui-Gon wryly.


	106. That Which Stands

Obi Wan kept his word to Ani about making time for sparring after Padme, Isaly and the children were safely off of Yavin 4. He had meant the exercises to focus largely on re-developing Ani's lightsaber skills, but after the encounter with Mara, Ani seemed to feel that more basic lessons were in order. Bail had seen to it that Leia was well-versed in various forms of hand-to-hand combat during her time on Alderaan, and with Obi Wan's help she began to regain her knowledge of the Force without too much difficulty.

She wasn't always able to remain on Yavin 4, due to various recruiting missions and other responsibilities she had to carry out as a leader of the Rebel Alliance, but Obi Wan had given her enough of her own exercises which didn't require his presence that she was well occupied with her Jedi training no matter where in the galaxy she happened to be. That left her well able to work with her brother during the times that the both did happen to be on Yavin, especially since Ani and their father weren't exclusively using lightsabers in their work together.

Obi Wan was able to take advantage of having two students much as he had often done during Luke's youth on Tatooine. Again, rather than fostering a spirit of conpetition between the siblings--who had enough natural rivalry that for him to encourage more would have been a detriment to the training--he used the joint exercises to strengthen the already existing bond between them, calling them to a new level of teamwork with obstacle courses which both much finish in order for the exercise to be declared a success; scavenger hunts in which each of them were given an incomplete list of objects or assignments leading to a joint task at the end of the game. Only when all of the previous tasks were complete could they determine what the final "mission" actually was, and then that objective could not be obtained by either one alone. These were simple games; things that both Ani and Leia remembered from Tatooine, and that fact alone was enough to reinforce the sense of connection between them. The fact that the nature of the assignments also required an exploration and use of Force-related skills gave them the opportunity to help one another learn (or re-learn) rather than relying strictly on Obi Wan in his role as Master.

When the time came for actual lightsaber instruction, Luke quietly handed over Anakin's lightsaber to his sister. Obi Wan had hoped that Leia's interest in the training might rekindle Luke's hopes of becoming a Jedi Knight, but so far he was content to fly with the Rogues, though all of them did occasionally drop in to watch Leia and Ani. It was a simple matter to reinstate the old game of dodge-bolt--or rather, the re-created game that Ani and Luke had used for years--or to set them both against him using body target zones in a point system rather than having the goal to be simply to disarm or force him to yield. Given the destructive potential of the weapons involved, he also imposed certain limitations, although these were simply things he had learned in his early instruction at the Jedi Temple or with Qui-Gon Jinn. Though he employed target zones and marks of contact in the instruction, the aim that Obi Wan gave to his pupils during these drills was not contact so much as control. The purpose was to direct a strike a particular location while maintaining enough physical control over one's body--and by extension, the lightsaber--that no cut or burn was inflicted. In this way, they learned both technique and the Jedi mentality of discipline and reverence for life.

Ani continued to have difficulty feeling the Force in his limbs, but he gradually learned to at least compensate for the lack with mechanically enhanced reflexes, in the process becoming better acquainted with the mechnos and thus becoming able to make them do what he would have expected from his natural body. Leia was almost entirely new to handling a lightsaber. Obi Wan had placed lightsabers in the twins' hands and taught them enough to grasp the significance of the weapon and to feel comfortable holding one, but that was a far cry from being able to use one in battle. Ani's injuries put them on more equal footing and made it easier for their father to pair them together in instructional spars.

Ani's sudden loss of ability frustrated him to an extent, but while he had lost a certain amount of physical skill, he still had a lifetime of mental conditioning to fall back on. He was too much of a Jedi now to allow such setbacks to breed anger, and his sister's presence made it impossible for him to remain discouraged for very long. Between them, they managed to become so focused on supporting and helping one another accomplish what was set before them that they had little time or energy left to dwell on failure--which was, largely, their father's intent.

Bail attended most of the training sessions until he was called away to settle some dispute which had apparently erupted between Mon Mothma and Garm Bel Iblis. The former Corellian senator had been a long-time political adversary of Palpatine's, and after his family was murdered on Anchoron, he went on to assume the alias "The Commander," under which he led resistance forces in the Corellian sector in guerrilla raids against the Empire. Only a few years before what was becoming known as the Battle of Yavin, he had contacted Bail and Mon to suggest that the separate resistance forces of Alderaan, Chandrilla, and Corellia be consolidated into a single, unified Rebellion. All three had agreed that Mon should become the public face of the Rebel Alliance. Bail continued to work clandestinely within the Empire, providing the Rebellion with both financial resources and critical intelligence and Garm offered military support, strategic and tactical advice. Tensions, however, were sharp--especially between Mothma and Bel Iblis, with one favoring hard, decisive military action and the other seeking tactics that would minimize bloodshed. Bail and the Kenobis had hoped that Padme's return would assist in easing relations, but apparently Bel Iblis was now unhappy with the fact that Mon was being credited publicly for founding the Alliance, and the Kenobis (via Luke) were largely being hailed as responsible for the victory at Yavin.

Han apparently felt more comfortable when only one of Leia's fathers was present, because as soon as Bail was gone, he began appearing at the sessions as well. He tended to show up when the Jedi were engaged in some martial activity rather than when during meditation or other more contemplative endeavors, for which Obi Wan was most definitely glad. While he had certainly revised his opinion of the mercenary since their initial meeting, he was a distraction to Leia whether she wanted to admit that he was or not. He had sense enough not to heckle once the lightsabers were ignited, but beyond that, he had no compunction about attempting to irritate "her worshipfulness" out of the state of calm reflection that Obi Wan was attempting to foster in her.

The Jedi Master had briefly considered barring Han from the training activities, but he dismissed that idea as quickly as it entered his mind. The last thing he wanted was to create an imbalance of power between the couple before they even managed to overcome their own objections. Han had to be made welcome, and if Jedi related activities were closed off from him, held as some sort of private Kenobi bonding ritual, he would never truly feel included or on equal footing with Leia. Whether he professed to have any use for the Force or not, such practices smacked of an elitist mentality which could have no place in family life.

Obi Wan's problem then became how to include Han. The smuggler was content to sit on the sidelines heckling or telling Threepio to shut his metal trap, but Obi Wan knew that he couldn't simply allow that to continue. It was true that Leia would have to learn to maintain focus despite whatever other activities were going on around her, but Han's kind of distraction was not one that could be classified as "common." He well knew that he was being disruptive, and he was enjoying it. To Obi Wan, the whole affair seemed rather similar to the way that his offspring had used to test his and Padme's disciplinary boundaries when they were children. The difference, of course, was that Han was a grown man who wasn't about to accept paternal chiding--and in fact part of him was rather itching for a conflict that would give him an excuse to cut himself off from the Kenobis altogether.

Leia solved the problem for him one afternoon while the group was working in a clearing outside the base. Luke and the Rogues were there that day, lounging on the grass alongside of Han as spectators. Ani got the better of Leia in a hand-to-hand drill, dumping her rather unceremoniously onto her backside. Normally, she would have taken the maneuver in good grace, but both Luke and Wedge accidentally snickered, and Han overtly laughed.

Ani reached down to offer his sister a hand up and she glared so fiercely that he let it drop again with an uncomfortable cough. Climbing to her feet, she spun around and crossed her arms, fixing an even darker look on Han. He grinned back unrepentantly.

"Oh, and I suppose you could do better?"

"You bet I could, sister!" Han fired at her.

Leia smiled sweetly and gestured toward her brother with a graceful wave of her arm. "Then why don't you prove it?"

"Fine!" Han replied with a smirk. He sprang to his feet and shucked his vest, letting it drop to the ground behind him.

A minute glance passed between Ani and Obi Wan, unnoticed by the others but more than enough for two Jedi who knew each other so well. Ani wasn't above using the Force to play small pranks on Han; in fact it was just that sort of game which had sealed the two men's tentative friendship on the flight to the Alderaan system. At the moment, though, such a thing would give Han the perfect reason to storm off in a huff. With a look, Obi Wan told his son that humiliating Han was not on the afternoon's agenda, and a brief upward flick of Ani's lips assured him that the young Knight knew well when to exercise restraint.

The truth was that Ani had nothing but the highest respect for Han. The two might bicker and roll their eyes at one another, but that was simply the nature of their friendship. Whether Solo was trained in the ways of the Force or not, Ani had seen him fight often enough to understand that he was a more than capable adversary.

"No Forcey stuff," Han warned, jabbing a finger toward Ani's chest.

Ani responded with an amused smile and a solemn bow of acknowledgement. Then the two men began to circle one another, both cautious. Han stepped in with a quick series of punches, designed more to test Ani's response and gauge his reflexes than actually land a hit. The Jedi evaded them, falling easily and naturally into a defensive position. He didn't strike back, but rather let Han continue to press in, evading or blocking kicks and punches when he could, taking the hits when he couldn't.

"C'mon, hit me!" urged Han, confused by the non-aggressive tactic.

"I will," Ani promised easily.

"Oh," Han nodded. "Good then."

He feinted in with a jab at Ani's right shoulder, intending to use the distraction to score a kick to the Knight's knee. Although Ani had promised no overt use of the Force, it was simply not possible for him to "turn off" his Jedi senses. The Force flowed in and around them, whispering of intentions and guiding movement with gentle nudges which a Jedi learned to heed as naturally as he took in the sensory information given to him by his eyes and ears. He took a step back, completely ignoring the attempt at deception as he pivoted right to avoid the kick. Overbalanced, Han quickly found himself in the dirt, and now it was Leia's turn to snicker.

Ani followed him down, hoping to capitalize on the fall in order to end the fight quickly. Han had other ideas, and the combatants wrestled around on the ground, first simply grappling for dominance, then moving into a succession of arm, leg, and headlocks as each attempted to illicit surrender from the other. Han was in his element with this sort of scrapping, though. Ani had been trained in classical forms of combat, with a heavy emphasis on lightsaber technique. He was outmatched in a brawl, even where neither party had any real desire to harm the other. After a minute or two, he broke away and rolled to his feet again. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he danced back and gave Han a beckoning gesture. Han wasted no time in getting to his feet again, and he immediately rushed Ani, attempting a shoulder-block, which Ani neatly sidestepped, causing Han to rush past him and nearly collide shoulder first with a tree. Despite blunders like this, though, Han showed both startling reflexes and a propensity for finding and taking advantage of any lapse in Ani's attention or defenses. While Obi Wan had no doubt about who would emerge the winner of this encounter, the victory would not be as quick for Ani as Leia had assumed.

This point was driven home especially hard more than once by Han's left fist, particularly the time when it caught Ani off guard and rammed into his stomach with unexpected force. Ani had been using his hands to block a right-handed punch at his chest, and must have sensed the blow coming in enough time to tighten his abdominal muscles, but without the Force to aid him, there was little else he could do. Han's fist connected, and prepared or not, Ani doubled over, a gust of breath exploding from his lungs. Han pulled back his hand, shaking the fingers out with a painful wince, but the discomfort didn't keep him from aiming a swift follow-up kick at Ani's chin as the Jedi tried to straighten up.

Ani slid fluidly backward, his left hand coming up to catch Han's ankle with speed that, while not enhanced by the Force, was augmented enough by his mechanical reflexes to catch Han off guard. While the smuggler was still trying to balance himself on one leg in preparation for some kind of counter, Ani stepped toward him, his right hand closing around the ankle as moved. He raised his hands, forcing Han's leg still higher, until the smuggler was so far off balance that he spilled to the ground again. Dropping down with him, Ani kept a firm grip on his leg, planting his shoulder behind Han's knee to pin the leg above his head in a painfully over-extended position that would place far too much stress on his hamstring muscles.

"Give up?" he asked.

"I don't think so, kid," Han shook his head stubbornly.

Ani rocked forward further, increasing the pressure. "How about now?"

"Forget it."

"C'mon, Han. I'll give you a rematch tomorrow," offered Ani.

"Forget it, Ani," Leia spoke up, realizing that there was no way Han would admit defeat without another kind of persuasion. "He wouldn't give up, even if you broke his leg!"

"And what is that supposed to mean, Your Worship?" Han gritted.

She crossed her arms, smirking as she walked over to the pair on the ground. Circling slowly around them, she said, "It means you're just too stubborn to admit you're beaten, no matter how many of your bones snap…"

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, giving her a hard glare. "FINE, Ani. I give up!"

Ani hid a smile and backed off, climbing to his feet. Han struggled to sit up, trying valiantly to pretend that his leg wasn't killing him. Ani casually reached down to offer him a hand up. Clasping the Jedi's forearm, Han hauled himself to his feet, took a second to steady himself, and then released his grip. Then Ani did smile, stepping backward to offer his friend a deep bow.

"Thank you, Captain Solo," he said gravely.

"Sure, kid. Whatever," Han rolled his eyes.

Obi Wan shook his head, chuckling softly. "You can have that rematch in the morning, if you like, Han. For now, let's all get some lunch."


	107. The Demanding Memory

The rematch never happened. Ani had taken to spending whatever time he could in the cave where he and Luke had faced their new adversary. Her name was still unknown to them, and despite Luke's assertion that she was not evil, he continued to sense a pervading darkness around her--a darkness connected in some disturbing way with his daughter. He did his best to put aside fear and worry as a Jedi should, because he knew that these things would only skew his perception of whatever insight the Force might provide. However, he had also seen the danger of walking in complete darkness. He needed information.

He wasn't sure what he would find there, only that the cavern continued to call to him. As he contemplated this, a stirring began within him, triggered by whispers still imbedded deep within the stone and earth. He had never before sought a vision, though he had spent long stretches of time in deep mediation, communing with the Force. The dreams had simply come to him, completely without his seeking them, and although he had trained himself to recognize them even in sleep, they remained outside of his conscious control.

As a Jedi, he understood that this was the key, and the irony of that fact brought a faint smile to his lips. To go in search of a vision, his first step must be to release his own desire for one. For many hours, he simply sat on the cold dirt floor, open to the Force and waiting. He banished expectation, banished questions, slowly cleared his mind of all anticipation and even the need for the answers he sought. Only then did the Force truly begin to speak.

The answers it gave him were not the ones that he had come in search of. In fact, as the images rose up to swirl around him, they didn't seem to be answers at all. He held himself completely at peace, accepting and absorbing what he saw without attempting to interpret it. Understanding would come later.

_It began with the flash of lightsaber in his father's hand. Obi Wan and Asajj Ventress fought their way around this very cavern again, locked in combat long-since ended. She fought him back toward the wall, and Ani looked on as her lightsaber struck Obi Wan's leg, causing him to stagger backwards._

"You fought well. But not well enough. And now I'll kill you, Jedi--"

"Anakin!" Padme's voice echoed out of the past.

The black clad figure of Darth Vader rose up out of the shadows that swirled about the floor of the cavern. The rasp of his breathing filled the chamber, echoing through it as he advanced on Ventress with a red blade in hand. He struck her down without a moment's pause and then turned to Obi Wan, who had crumpled to the ground.

"This one is mine to kill."

"I don't think so!" challenged another voice.

Anakin Skywalker strode into the cave, a lightsaber in each hand. One blade was blue--the one that Obi Wan had rescued from Mustafar. The other was green--the one that Ani had lost on the Death Star. It had once belonged to Qui-Gon Jinn. Vader slowly turned, raising his weapon to engage Anakin. The Jedi held his ground calmly, raised the blades, and then turned to Ani with a grim smile.

"Stay there, Ani."

"Uncle…?"

"Stay there!"

He charged Vader, both blades whirling, and the warriors of light and dark collided once more. At first, the two blades and Anakin's speed and agility gave him an advantage. Vader's anger made him powerful, though, and the Jedi soon lost the offensive. The need to wield both blades meant that he couldn't put the full force of strength into a counter-offensive strike, which left Vader able to simply batter at his defenses.

Obi Wan reached for the wall behind him, using it to pull himself up. Then he stretched out his right hand to call back his fallen lightsaber. Ani sprang to his feet, reaching out himself.

"No, Dad! Stay there!"

His father's lightsaber flew into his hand and he leapt toward the Dark Lord. Vader spun away from Anakin to slash at his namesake's chest, but Ani blocked the blow. Given a moment to regroup, Anakin re-took the offensive, and together both Jedi beat back the specter of the Sith Lord. Finally, Vader fell to his knees, sinking back into the shadows from which he had come.

"I thought I told you to stay there," Anakin remarked, tilting his head at his nephew.

"Yes, well, I don't listen very well," replied Ani.

"I think it's the name," Anakin nodded. "Here. I kept this for you."

"What?"

Anakin gave a half smile and laid the hilt of Qui-Gon's lightsaber in his namesake's hand. "You should be more careful. This weapon is your life."

"I'll do better the next…" Ani started to say, breaking off as the images began to swirl and Anakin faded away. "Wait! Uncle, let me come with you!"

"Stay…"

The cave melted away, and the familiar squeal of clashing lightsabers picked up again. This time, they were above him. He craned his neck and gaped as he saw two Jedi, Master and Padawan, dueling a demonic black-robed figure on a catwalk above him. The enemy moved with stunning speed, and the Master seemed to be tiring. The Padawan pressed on, determined to find a way to end the combat, but as he drove his saber downward in attempt to pin one end of their adversary's staff, the Sith caught him off guard with a kick so sudden and empowered by the Force that it knocked him entirely off the bridge. He sailed downward, landing on the platform where Ani was now standing, but his momentum carried him clear across it and over the edge.

"Dad!" Ani cried, racing over to the edge where his father was now hanging on by his fingertips. He reached down to clasp Obi Wan's wrist, hauling him back up again.

The incredibly young Obi Wan gave a quick nod and clapped his shoulder. Then he looked up, scanning the platforms above for Qui-Gon and the Sith Lord. "Stay there, son."

"Dad, let me--"

Obi Wan leapt away, vaulting back up after Qui-Gon, who was now racing through a fateful set of doors with the Sith Lord. Ani followed his father up, although he knew what he would see when he did. If there was something that the Force had for him to see here, then he had no choice but to steel himself and accept it.

As one, they moved through the door and into the corridor beyond, where they kidded to a halt barely in time to avoid striking the glowing red wall of a security force field. Similar ones segmented the entire corridor, cutting off Qui-Gon from their adversary but also permitting him no means of escape.

They waited, watching as the man who had mentored both of them sank to his knees. Qui-Gon began to meditate, and Ani became suddenly and acutely conscious of his father's thoughts and feelings. Obi Wan's mind was full of anger and self-blame; helpless frustration. How could he have let himself be taken by surprise like that? Why had Qui-Gon not waited before pursuing their foe? Now the Sith was prowling just beyond their reach, waiting to pick off Qui-Gon in the elder Jedi's weakened state.

There was nothing that Ani or Obi Wan could do, though. Nothing but wait. So wait they did, until the force fields were about to shut down again. Then they charged through the corridor, Ani painfully aware of his father's desperation to reach Qui-Gon, who had already sprung to his feet and taken up the battle again. The force fields reactivated just as they reached the last point. They froze again, and Obi Wan grit his teeth as he stood watching the renewed struggle.

Qui-Gon's meditation had given him new energy, strengthened his connection with the Force, but Ani already knew that it would not be enough.

Please, he caught his father's silent, anguished entreaty. Please, Qui-Gon, hold on. Just a while more. I'm coming!

Even as Obi Wan thought the words, Qui-Gon's weapon came down on the hilt of their enemy's and the Sith shoved him back, pivoting to drive home a blade in a killing blow.

"QUI-GON!"

-----

It was nearly midday and Ani had not returned to the base. Obi Wan wasn't particularly concerned, but he found it rather amusing to note that Ani was missed by both Han and Leia--or at least, that was the excuse Han had used for hanging around all morning. They all knew quite well where the Knight had gone, and while his father didn't like it, there was little he could do to prevent Ani from spending his free time in the cave.

Han and Chewie arrived around breakfast time, and Han was already eager for his rematch. Learning that Ani hadn't returned from the cave the night before, he'd immediately suggested mounting a search. Obi Wan shrugged it off, assuring him that there was no cause for alarm just yet. Having arranged her schedule for the day in order to have the morning off for training, Leia curled up in a chair and quickly became absorbed in her mother's journal. Han prowled about for a while, not quite sure what to do with himself, until Chewie yelled at him to sit down and stop pacing.

"What'samatter with you?" Han asked, grabbing the nearest chair, which he then swung around and straddled.

Chewie grumbled in reply.

"Nervous? Whaddaya mean I make you nervous? Since when?" demanded Han.

Tilting his head, Chewie issued a loud and rather pointed groan. Then he folded his arms and stared at his friend as if daring Han to challenge him. Han, of course, was more than happy to do so.

"I was not pacing anyway. Just tryin'a work off a little energy," Han shook his head.

Chewie growled a question.

"Well, c'mon. Y'know, I was all pumped to beat Ani and now he's off sitting in a cave!" complained Han.

"I'll bet you were," remarked Leia without looking up from her data pad.

"Excuse me?"

"You just can't let anyone get the better of you," she shook her head, but a smile touched her lips, which Han was too busy posturing to notice.

"That's right, I can't!" he declared.

"Good," she replied.

"Huh..?" he deflated, tilting his head in confusion.

"Forget it," she laughed.

"Fine! I will!"

Obi Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed quietly but said nothing. He leaned forward in his chair, reaching automatically for the datapad on the table in front of him. A silence fell which was perfectly comfortable for him and Leia. Chewie folded his hands behind his head and leaned back on the couch, seeming content as well, but Han remained restless.

"What are you guys gonna do, sit around and read all day?" he asked.

"Try it sometime," suggested Leia. "You might learn something."

"I just don't see what's so interesting about sitting here reading an old diary," Han sighed.

"That's because you haven't read it," Leia told him.

"I haven't read it because it's boring," Han rolled his eyes.

"How do you know it's boring if you haven't _read_ it!" Leia's head jerked up.

_"Easy,_ Your Highness, don't get upset," Han smirked.

Leia gave a disgusted huff. "No one's forcing you to sit here, you know."

"I'm waiting for Ani, remember?" Han said.

"Right," she rolled her eyes.

"Leia, what are you reading now?" asked Obi Wan with a sigh at the pair. He knew that she had gone back and started reading the journal from the beginning, but he wasn't sure exactly how far she'd gotten.

"She's talking about the Battle of Geonosis," she said.

Han's eyes widened. "Your mom was at the Battle of Geonosis?"

"She fought in it," Leia replied.

"Why don't you read it to us?" suggested Obi Wan.

"All right," Leia nodded. It took a moment to return to the top of the screen, and then she began, _"13:5:22_

"Back on Naboo. The Military Creation Act is now a moot issue. The Senate has granted Chancellor Palpatine emergency powers, which he has used to create an army. It is being called The Grand Army of the Republic, but as far as I am concerned, it is anything but. It soldiers are clones, which Obi Wan discovered on Kamino. It would seem that a Jedi Master secretly commissioned the clones without the knowledge of the Jedi Council. Despite all my efforts, the Republic is going to war. Obi Wan is leaving the Jedi Order.

"Overnight it seems the galaxy has been changed forever. I should be frightened, but I can't be. Obi Wan tracked the bounty hunter who was trying to kill me to Kamino and followed him from there to Geonosis, where he also discovered a droid army about to be delivered to the Separatists. He was captured, but he managed to transmit a message to Anakin, so we left Tatooine to rescue him against Master Windu's orders.

"We fought our way through a droid production factory there, but we were discovered as well. Count Dooku--who was indeed behind the attacks--ordered us to be publicly executed in a Geonosian arena. Obi Wan was already tied up there, and I confess I have never been so relieved to see anyone.

"I thought, 'Even if we die here, he won't end his life believing I never loved him.'

"Of course, he couldn't cooperate. I called to him, but he cut me off to banter with Anakin about our botched attempt to rescue him. Then, I was tied too far away from him, and the first time I shouted to him, he couldn't hear what I said over the crowd. I kept trying, even when the three of us were fighting for our lives against the monsters they released into the arena to kill us. For a while, he still couldn't hear me. Then he kept interrupting me again!

"Finally, the Jedi arrived to rescue us, but Dooku released the droid army. We all continued to fight regardless. I have never seen anything as amazing as Obi Wan and Mace Windu standing back to back against that metallic onslaught. In the end, though, we were simply outnumbered. The droids began to press us into the center of the arena, and of the more than one hundred Jedi who had begun the battle, only a handful remained.

"Dooku offered us a chance to surrender, but Master Windu told him that we would not become hostages for him to barter with. I realized that this was going to be my last chance, so I took a deep breath, but before I could actually say anything, he called my name. When I turned to face him, he smiled, and all he said was, 'I know.'--"

"I know?" Han cut Leia off, raising an eyebrow.

Obi Wan smiled quietly.

"Not bad, old man," Han said with an appreciative nod. "Not bad at all."


	108. Points of View

_Ani fell to his knees as the force field came down, battered by pain and grief that was more his father's than his own. Obi Wan attacked the Sith, and Ani's reality began to waver again, but his father's guilt and suffering didn't fade. A cool breeze touched his face, and he looked up to find himself kneeling on the floor of a balcony. His parents were there, silhouetted in the silver light of the moon, but neither of them seemed aware of him._

"Are you all right?" Padme asked softly.

"I'm not sure I can do it," Obi Wan confessed. "I told Yoda that I would train Anakin whether the Council allowed it or not. I meant it--I gave Qui-Gon my word. But I don't know if I can train someone that Yoda himself wouldn't."

"You can only do your best, Obi Wan," she murmured encouragingly.

"I promised Yoda I would do that," he nodded.

"And what did he say?" she asked.

"That as long as I remembered that promise, it would be sufficient," he sighed.

"Then let it be," she told him.

"Padme, I'm afraid I'll fail him the way I failed Qui-Gon," he said.

She turned quickly to face him. "You didn't fail Qui-Gon!"

"I couldn't save him," Obi Wan said.

"No you couldn't," she shook her head. "But you did what you had to do. What he would have expected you to do."

"But is that enough?" he persisted.

"It has to be," she replied.

The air began to grow warmer. Then it became hot--stifling--sulfuric. Reality wavered and reformed as the ground beneath Ani's legs hardened and grew jagged. Despite the heat and stench, he sucked in a sharp breath, realizing in an instant where he was now. Their disembodied voices echoed around him, and though he couldn't see them yet, he knew that he soon would.

"I have failed you, Anakin. I have--"

"Palpatine was right about you. You were plotting against him all the time. Plotting with Yoda and Windu to take over the Republic!" Vader cut him off.

"From the Sith! Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil," Obi Wan exclaimed.

"From the Jedi point of view! From my point of view, it's the Jedi who are evil!" Anakin yelled back.

"Well, then you are lost!" Ani heard his father say. He grit his teeth against the statement, but the two combatants came bobbling into view on the raging lava of river. Anakin still balanced atop his confused worker droid while Obi Wan remained on a broken platform.

"This is the end for you, my Master. I wish it were otherwise," said Vader in a mock sad tone. He leapt across the lava, flipping himself onto Obi Wan's platform, where the battle resumed. Ani watched through a haze of tears until Obi Wan sprang away, sailing across the open lava to land on the bank beside him. This time, though, his father didn't seem to know he was there.

"It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground," he yelled back toward the man who had been his brother…and his son.

"You underestimate my power!" Vader shouted back.

"Don't try it," he said, but even as he spoke, he knew that the decision was made. His arm rose without hesitation, and for the second time in his life, Anakin Kenobi could watch because he understood that Obi Wan Kenobi loved Anakin Skywalker, even as Darth Vader fell back down the embankment, nearly rolling back into the burning lava. Vader struggled to pull himself up as his thin leather glove was burned away, but again and again, he slid down the slope…

"You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would, destroy the Sith, not join them! It was you who would bring balance to the Force, not leave it in Darkness!" Obi Wan cried. Turning, he picked up the lightsaber that had once belonged to Anakin Skywalker and started up the black slope.

A strangled sound called him back. "Obi Wan…?"

Slowly, painfully, Obi Wan turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Are you going to give that to Ani when you tell him that you left me here to die?" Vader spat.

"My son died in the Jedi Temple last night," he said. "You killed him as surely as if you'd driven this blade through his heart."

"No! You're lying!" Vader rasped. "He was alive when I left him!"

Obi Wan didn't reply. A shadow passed overhead and Ani looked up to see a shuttle he knew was Palpatine's. Obi Wan sprinted up the embankment, leaving Ani alone to watch the now helpless Darth Vader. His maimed body was still trying to worm its way up the impossible embankment. His clothes were beginning to catch on fire. Swallowing hard, Ani rose to his feet and skidded down the slope, stretching out his hand toward Anakin.

"Uncle, take my hand!"

"Ani…?"

"I'm here, Uncle Anakin! Take my hand!"

"I can't…it's too far…"

"Just reach up," Ani pleaded, stretching his fingers further toward the Sith. "Please, Uncle, before it's too late!"

But it was too late. The flames consuming Anakin's robes exploded, engulfing him in a ball of red-orange agony. He shrieked in horrible pain as the stench of charred flesh billowed through the sulfuric air, and Ani wretched as the mingled odors assaulted his nostrils. Somehow, Anakin was still screaming, and his suffering bored through Ani like the blade of a lightsaber burning its way through his chest cavity. He hung his head, waiting helplessly until the sound died away, becoming only a faint, wet gurgle as the air began to cool again.

-----

Leia finished reading Padme's entry about the battle of Geonosis, and Han reluctantly admitted that maybe the journal wasn't as boring as he had assumed. He still insisted he didn't want to hear any more, though. This spurred another round of bickering with Chewie, who evidently did. Han argued for a while, then finally capitulated and waved an arm at Leia.

"Please, Your Worship, do continue with the family chronicle," he said sardonically. "We wouldn't want Chewie to miss out on anything."

With a smile for the Wookiee, Leia resumed reading. She went back through the entry containing Padme's worries about snoring, then read another which was written a few days after Obi Wan actually arrived on Naboo. That one detailed the happy reunion, dinner with her family, and the unplanned marriage proposal afterward. Both Han and Leia stiffened slightly when she reached the part about Pooja and Ryoo's insistence that Obi Wan was about to become their new uncle. Chewie chortled happily, and Obi Wan hid a smile behind his hand, but the reluctant couple pointedly ignored the similarity to Han's first dinner with the Kenobis.

Leia cleared her throat and continued to read, though her body language was clearly uncomfortable now. She began to relax again as Padme's narrative moved from dinner to the proposal. She settled more deeply into her chair, and a soft smile touched her lips as she read Obi Wan's impromptu speech and Padme's written reactions to it. Obi Wan restrained a chuckle when he realized that his wife remembered what he'd said that night far better than he did himself.

"Dad, you're a romantic," Leia remarked.

He shrugged lightly. "I only told her the truth."

"I still think it's romantic," smiled Leia. "Down on one knee right on the kitchen floor like that."

"Yeah, you're a real romantic, old man," scoffed Han. "Never woulda thought you had it in ya."

"Shut up, Han," Leia sighed.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Nevermind," she shook her head.

"Whatever you say, Princess," he smirked. "Hey, come on. Can we go look for Ani now?"

"I haven't had a chance to finish reading your moth--Padme's last letter yet," Obi Wan replied.

Han stiffened slightly but decided to ignore the slip. "Why don't you two just send holomessages like normal people?"

"Well, we do, sometimes. Padme's always enjoyed writing this way, and there were times it wasn't always practical to make holorecordings," explained Obi Wan absently.

"Practical or private?" Leia asked in an amused tone.

"Either," chuckled Obi Wan.

"What am I missing?" Han wanted to know.

"You can put a datapad in your pocket and read a letter while you're supposed to be working on a speech or reading mission specs," Leia told him, still reading.

Han gaped. "You…?"

"Once or twice," admitted Obi Wan.

"Betcha felt guilty the whole time," Han rolled his eyes.

Obi Wan only shrugged again and went back to his letter. Han heaved a bored sigh and got to his feet, disappearing into the kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a glass in each hand and handed one to Obi Wan, who reached up to take it without looking up.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"Mom's going to kill you if she finds out you're drinking that," remarked Leia.

"Ah, a little Jawa Juice ain't gonna kill him," Han shook his head.

"Well, as my master once said, 'What the queen doesn't know won't hurt her,'" added Obi Wan.

"All right," Leia laughed, shaking her head fondly. "What does she say in the letter?"

"Bail's managed to patch things up between Mon and Bel Iblis for the moment. Isaly's volunteering on one of the medical frigates, and she seems to enjoy it. Little One's developed an aptitude for taking things apart, but she's not quite so good at putting them back together again," related her father with a laugh of his own.

"Hey, well, the kid's gotta start somewhere, right?" Han remarked.

"I suppose so," Obi Wan allowed.

"What about the twins?" Leia wanted to know.

"It seems they're driving everyone to distraction," smiled Obi Wan.

"Are they still being so cranky?" Leia asked.

"No, they've settled down now that emotions aren't running quite so high. They're not exactly happy babies, but that should change once we've evacuated and the family's back together. They're still responding to Isaly, your mother, and Shmi's feelings," said Obi Wan.

"So what's the problem?" Leia frowned, looking up from the journal.

"Darling, one six month old is enough to keep anyone busier than you can imagine. Two is enough to drive a person mad," her father declared.

"Are they crawling?" asked Leia, leaning forward a bit her chair.

"Not quite yet, but they can worm around on their stomachs already and they're constantly grabbing and snatching things. Junior's figured out how to roll from place to place, and I'm sure Obi-Wan won't be far behind."

Leia smiled at the fact that he had given in to the appellation of "Junior" for little Anakin yet still stubbornly refused to call his namesake "Obi-Too." The nicknames had become so ingrained now that it seemed odd to her that she had once found them irritating. Her father's reaction was a source of fond amusement for everyone in the family, and she suspected that he resisted now only because they would notice if he didn't.

"I hope we can see them soon," she said.

"It shouldn't be long now. General Dodonna's requested the Mon Cal cruiser _Defiance_ to cover our evacuating craft. She's engaged at the moment, but as soon as she's free, we'll be able to leave and rendezvous with the fleet," replied Obi Wan. "Oh, your mother says she has a surprise in store for us when we arrive."

"Surprise?" Leia asked. "What kind of surprise?"

"I haven't the slightest."


	109. The Past We Cannot Change

_The red sky dimmed, darkened, and Ani found himself once again on the floor of the cavern. He was not alone, though. The unmistakable figure of Yoda stood before him, both hands folded on the top of his gimmer stick._

"Hard to see, the future is," he murmured.

"Master Yoda," Ani frowned.

"Harder sometimes is the past we cannot change," Yoda continued. "Come, young Kenobi. More for you to see, there is. More you must know…"

Ani sighed and climbed to his feet again. Glancing down at his hands, he found a lightsaber in each one. In his right one was the weapon that his father had dropped while dueling with Ventress. In his left was the one that Anakin had returned to him--the one that had belonged to Qui-Gon Jinn. He took a slow breath, wet his lips and looked up at Yoda again.

"I'm ready," he said with a determined nod.

"So certain are you?" Yoda asked, but even as he spoke the question, he faded away, and the cave dissolved with him, transforming itself into the red-carpeted office of Chancellor Palpatine from more than eighteen years ago.

Anakin Skywalker stood there, rooted to the ground by his own terror as he watched his Jedi Master battle Darth Sidious for the future of the Republic. His eyes were all that moved as he looked toward Ani. He swallowed convulsively, and his namesake read a silent plea in his petrified countenance.

Help me.

Ani clipped the lightsabers to his belt and quietly laid his hand on the Jedi Knight's quaking shoulder. Part of him knew, of course, that the Anakin who stood here was only part of a vision, that in showing him these events, the Force was trying to reveal some greater truth. It made no difference. His need was real, no matter how it manifested.

Don't center on your fears, Ani told him.

"For all your power, you are no Jedi. All you are, my lord," Mace Windu was saying to the Sith Lord, "is under arrest."

"Do you see, Anakin? Do you?" Palpatine's voice was a frightened gasp. "Didn't I warn you of the Jedi and their treason?"

"Save your twisted words, my lord. There are no politicians here. The Sith will never regain control of the Republic. It's over. You've lost. You lost for the same reason the Sith always lose: defeated by your own fear."

"Fool," Palpatine spat. "Do you think the fear you feel is mine?"

Lightning surged from the Sith Lord's hands, and Mace angled his blade to shield himself from it. Palpatine screamed and snarled in pain as the lighting streaked back toward him, but his attack didn't lessen. In fact, the pain fed his anger--and his anger gave him strength--but it was not a strength that could dissuade Mace Windu, who edged closer, pushing him back even as Palpatine continued to lance him with crackling streams of pure hatred given form.

"Anakin!" Mace called. "Anakin, help me! This is your chance!"

"Anakin, I told you it would come to this!" cried Palpatine. This was never an arrest. It's an assassination! He is a traitor!"

"He is the traitor! Stop him!" Mace ordered.

"Come to your senses, boy. The Jedi are in revolt. They will betray you, just as they betrayed me. You are not one of them, Anakin. Don't let him kill me. I am your pathway to power. I have the power to save the one you love," Palpatine's words battered at Anakin's mind, shattering his senses, enflaming his fear.

His Master gave an inarticulate roar of pain and effort, pushing the Sith Lord through the window and out onto the ledge. A ledge from which there was a half-kilometer drop. Certain death, even for a Force adept.

"You must choose. You must stop him!" called Palpatine.

"Don't listen to him, Anakin!" Mace warned. He pushed further, and the Sith's lightning began to arch back on him. His eyes grew yellow, glowing like hot embers as he drew on his rage, drew on the Dark Side to intensify his power. His face contorted, twisted by his own power as the lightning scored his flesh and melted muscle and bone underneath.

He screamed, "Help me! Don't let him kill me. I can't hold on any longer. Ahhhhhhh --ahhhhhhh --ahhhhhhh--"

"Don't kill him, Master," Anakin pleaded, finally finding the will to move. Ani fought the urge to hold him back, knowing that nothing he did could alter these events. He was here as an observer and must let the vision unfold. He watched as Anakin edged closer, coming up behind Mace's shoulder.

"I can't...I give up. Help me. I am weak…I am too weak. Don't kill me. I give up. I'm dying. I can't hold on any longer…"

"You Sith disease. I know exactly what you're doing. I am going to end this once and for all--"

Sith disease…? Ani frowned. Where had he heard those words before?

"Wait--" Anakin grabbed Mace's lightsaber arm with a strength born of desperation. "Don't kill him--you can't just kill him, Master--"

"Yes, I can," Mace told him with grim certainty. "I have to."

"You came to arrest him. He has to stand trial--"

"A trial would be a joke. He controls the courts. He controls the Senate--"

"So are you going to kill all them, too? Like he said you would?" demanded Anakin.

Mace yanked his arm free. "He's too dangerous to be left alive. If you could have taken Dooku alive, would you have?"

Anakin sucked in a breath, cringing as if the purple blade had somehow pierced his chest. No. "That was different--"

"You can explain the difference when he's dead!" Mace declared.

"It's not the Jedi Way!" cried Anakin.

Mace raised his arm for the kill.

"He must live! I need him to save Padme!"

-----

After Leia finished the account of Obi Wan and Padme's engagement, she moved on to the account of the following day. Obi Wan noticed that several rather significant details had been omitted from this version of the journal, but he supposed that was probably a good thing under the circumstances. What was left in the entry dealt primarily with the couple's afternoon in Theed.

Although he had been more than happy to be with Padme wherever she wished to go, Obi Wan had been somewhat less than enthusiastic about their destination that day. When she had suggested going out, he'd assumed that she meant for a quiet, private tour of the city. It would've been a relatively simple matter for him to "convince" Captain Typho, and since his last visit to Theed had not allowed for sightseeing, he had been rather looking forward to it. Then she announced that they were going to see Theron Andrees, one of the tailors primarily responsible for her regnal regalia during her two terms as Queen of Naboo.

"Well, she did have a point, Dad," Leia remarked, hiding a chuckle. "If you were going to be married to a senator, you couldn't very well wear the same outfit every day."

"Why not?" demanded Han.

"Because," Leia sighed. "My mother had a certain political image to maintain. Hwe public attire reflected the traditions of her planet."

"So, why's she gotta dress up your old man to be like that? He's not from Naboo. Who cares what he's got on!" Han insisted.

"It doesn't work like that. At least in public. He would have to be seen with her--"

"So?"

"So, he would then become an element of her image. He had to dress the part," Leia explained.

"He's a _guy_, not a headdress," Han muttered.

Chewie barked agreement.

"I know that," Leia rolled her eyes. "Dad, you explain it to them."

"Well, darling, I hate to say it, but this time I agree with Han and Chewie," Obi Wan told her.

"_See?_" Han gestured toward Obi Wan with a satisfied smirk. "This time he's on my side."

"There aren't sides," Leia told him firmly. "This is a discussion, not a debate."

"Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Worshipfulness," Han replied mock-contritely.

She slapped the datapad down on the arm of her chair in annoyance. "You know, just _once,_ I'd like to hear you use my name!"

"Would you?" Han crossed his arms, grinning dangerously.

Leia's gaze flicked nervously from him to her father. Then she raised her chin in defiance and glared back at Han. "Yes."

His grin widened. "Well, all right then. _Leia._"

"Thank you," she practically hissed.

He inclined his head, still mocking. "You're welcome."

"Anyway," Leia said, quickly retreating into the safety of the earlier topic as she turned toward Obi Wan again, "Dad, you went to the tailor's, even if you didn't like it."

"Yes, I did," he nodded. "Your mother asked me to."

Han gave a derisive snort. "Nobody's gonna force me to do something like that--dress me and parade me around."

"Well, she couldn't have forced me, Han. All she had to do was ask," Obi Wan said.

"Right," Han rolled his eyes. He quickly downed the rest of his drink and stood up again, heading back toward the kitchen. "You want another one?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Obi Wan shook his head.

"All right," Han nodded.

Leia's eyes followed him out of the room. Then as soon as he was out of sight, she pulled her gaze down into her lap, seeming to notice for the first time that she had been staring at his back. Obi Wan smiled knowingly and went back to his letter. Leia picked up the journal again, but she wasn't really reading it anymore.

"Do you miss it, Dad?" she asked after a few moments.

"Naboo?"

"Mmm."

"Very much. It's a lovely world. We spent about a month there between when I first left the Jedi Order and when we were married. Three days after that, I was offered a commission in the Grand Army of the Republic. The only truly happy memories I have of that entire five years are the brief periods of time that I was able to go back to Naboo to see your mother and Ani," he related.

"I'd like to see it someday," Leia said.

"Your mother and I plan to go back when this war is over. You could always come with us," he offered.

Leia bit her lip in thought. "Ani says that Tatooine will always be home for him. Luke's at home wherever his X-Wing takes him. I don't know about myself anymore."

"Leia, you and Bail are both more than welcome wherever your mother and I are," Obi Wan promised. He glanced at Chewie and then moved his eyes toward the kitchen doorway, beyond which Han was clattering around in the refrigeration unit. "And so are our friends here."

"Oh, Han would never slow down long enough for that," Leia sighed

"I think he might if he had the right reason," murmured Obi Wan.

"Han keeps his reasons to himself," Leia said flatly.

Obi Wan massaged his eyes with the tips of his fingers. "If you say so."

"What?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "I'm going to finish your mother's letter."

"No, really. What?" she persisted.

Obi Wan set the datapad back on the table and crossed his arms. He gave his daughter a long, considering look, weighing his words carefully. "Leia, there was a reason that it was so important to your mother that I knew she loved me on Geonosis."

"I know. You both thought you were going to die," Leia frowned.

"One of the things she often regrets is how much time we lost between the Blockade Crisis and the Battle of Geonosis. Both of us, in one way or another, were hiding from what we felt," he went on.

"But she knew how you felt then," Leia said.

"It took me eight years to get up the nerve to tell her. And I had to be badly injured before I would do it. We're at war again. You may not have as much time as you think. And even if you do, you'll regret wasting it."

"I…don't know what you mean," Leia said.

"Don't you? Search your feelings, Leia. You will."


	110. Defining the Dark

_"No!" Ani cried as his uncle's lightsaber flew off of his belt. The crackling blue arc sheered off Windu's hand and sent his weapon tumbling into the night below. Mace stared at him in shock._

Palpatine leapt to his feet, his hands alive with hate--with death. The lightning struck Mace Windu with no buffer--nothing to absorb or deflect it--and in that moment, Anakin Skywalker knew only horror. He watched his Master fall. He fell to his own knees.

"What have I done?"

Palpatine's hand came to rest gently on the traumatized young man's shoulder. The gesture was a mockery of kindness that made Ani's guts roil with unadulterated hate. "You're following your destiny, Anakin. The Jedi are traitors. You saved the Republic from their treachery. You must learn to cast off the petty restraints that the Jedi have tried to place upon your power. Anakin, it's time. I need you to help me restore order to the galaxy. Join me. Pledge yourself to the Sith. Become my apprentice."

Anakin Skywalker planted one foot on the ground and pushed himself to his feet. He shook off Palpatine's hand and raised the blade he was still holding. "No."

The yellow eyes of the predator stared back at him in disbelief. "No?"

"I need you alive. That doesn't mean I intend to let you rule the galaxy," he said.

Palpatine cackled. "So be it."

The Sith Lord raised his hands. Lightning burst from his fingertips again, but when it struck, Anakin was no longer there. He dropped, swinging his weapon in a wide arc. Palpatine's lightsaber snapped off the ledge and lit as it spun into his hand. The two blades clashed, and the battle resumed.

Anakin's fury fueled each thrust, each parry, but his attacks met with fluid, smooth counterattack. The cackling continued, mocking, baiting him as they slashed and whirled and flipped through the room. They smashed each other with chairs--with lamps--with the desk. And he kept cackling! Anakin reached out--drawing more power into himself--drawing the darkness in the room--feeding it with the darkness in himself--and he slammed the cackling monster that was Darth Sidious into the wall with enough power to leave a man-shaped hole. His eyes blazed with hate--his whole body erupted with hate--and he closed the fist of his mechanical hand.

The cackling stopped. Sidious began to gag and gasp for breath. He clutched his throat, fighting to breathe, but Ani knew that the monster was dying. Then he heard a question spoken through the Force.

Why should I help you now, Anakin? Why should I help you save Padme?

Anakin froze. And in that moment of indecision--that split second of hesitation--the Sith Lord struck out. There was no time to prepare himself. Instinctively, he brought his lightsaber up, but fear had dissipated the anger that empowered him, and he didn't know enough to be able to gather it again. His mind was too embroiled in chaos to call on the Jedi teachings of Obi Wan and Mace Windu. He screamed in pain as the Force lightning blasted through his body, flinging him backward. Ani felt the pain with him-- pain and more than pain--cold that numbed and sapped his strength, darkness that crackled and oozed through his flesh, meeting the darkness within, calling to it.

Sidious pulled him up again, handling his body like an oversized puppet. Once the Sith had him off the ground, he forced the Knight back onto it, this time on his knees. He laid the hot point of his lightsaber bare centimeters from his throat, and then both Anakins understood. Sidious had never been out of control. Everything--the entire battle--had been as calculated as the Clone Wars, because although Anakin's raw power surpassed the Sith Lord's, his skill in the Force was beyond anything that any living Jedi had faced.

"Who will save Padme now, Anakin?" he mused lightly.

You don't need any more power, Uncle Anakin. You can save her from anything, all by yourself, Ani heard himself say.

"Who will save her when you are dead?" asked Palpatine, gently mocking. "I know! Perhaps her son…"

"No!" Anakin tried valiantly to force himself to his feet again, but Palpatine held him immobile.

"Oh, but she'll be dead by the time he's old enough, won't she?" said Palpatine in a tone of sudden realization. Then he became thoughtful. "Well, I will need a new apprentice, won't I? He'll be far less troublesome, I think. I'll be able to start so much younger."

No, Uncle. I love you.

"I'll do whatever you ask," Anakin promised.

"Good," Lord Sidious sneered down at him, and the lightsaber clicked off.

Another man might have chosen that moment to act--to make one final, desperate, self-sacrificing bid for victory--but Anakin's fear held him tighter than Palpatine's Force grip. Ani clearly heard its whisper.

What if I fail? Who will save her? Who will save them?

"Good," the Sith Lord said again.

"Just promise me you'll leave Ani alone," Anakin said.

"Me," Ani whispered, closing his eyes against tears. "You did it for me."

He opened his eyes again to see Anakin turn away from Sidious. Once again, his namesake was looking directly at him, but there was no smile on his lips this time. There was only profound weariness, hunger, terrible fear, and a desperate, half-crazed hope.

"You were all I had left to love."

"I'm here--Uncle, I'm still here--"

Emperor Palpatine began to cackle again. He too turned to look at Ani and his baleful yellow eyes were full of hate and mocking. "You will not save him, Kenobi. He was mine before you were even a thought."

"Ani, don't. Stay there!" Anakin warned.

Ani smiled darkly, unclipping the lightsabers again. "I told you, Uncle. I don't listen very well. Vader may be yours, Your Highness. But Anakin Skywalker is no one's slave anymore."

"As long as I live, he will be my slave, fool boy," Palpatine replied.

"Then I will kill you!" Ani swore, raising both blades in challenge.

"No, Ani!" screamed his mother's voice. He froze, then spun toward the sound but there was no one there, nothing but the darkness of the cave. They were gone. Both of them--Anakin, Sidious. The whole thing had simply vanished.

"Mother?" he asked, looking around in confusion.

There was still only her voice, but it was enough. "Not that way, Ani. Palpatine is too strong."

"But I have to save him!"

"Anakin. Together."

Padme's voice faded away, leaving Ani alone in the now icy silence. He vaguely realized that it should not have been this cold here. Even though his clothes were now drenched in sweat and the cave was several degrees cooler than the jungle outside, it was far too cold. He wrapped his arms around himself, shuddering with a cold which went beyond physical. Images swirled around him again, but these he locked deep in his heart and held them there, daring neither to dismiss nor examine them too closely.

After some time, the shaking abated. He remained utterly still, not even beginning to move until every physical tremor was gone and every emotional one had subsided into the calm tranquility of a Jedi's openness to the Force. Whispers began just beneath the surface of his conscious mind, where his thoughts could not touch them but his feelings might interpret all that he had observed.

Slowly, very slowly, he rose from the ground and made his way to the mouth of the cave. Even before reaching it, he sensed that he was not alone. Briefly, he tensed, but a familiar figure appeared, silhouetted against the sunset.

"You okay?" Luke asked.

"Not really," Ani sighed, trudging the rest of the way out of the cavern.

Luke had an armored speeder waiting a few yards away, and neither brother spoke as they walked over to it. Luke walked around to the pilot's seat and Ani climbed in on the front passenger side. He leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes, waiting wearily while Luke keyed the ignition and the craft rose from the ground.

"How long have you been here?" he asked finally.

"Since about midday," Luke replied casually.

"What were you doing?"

"Keeping an eye on you."

Ani opened his eyes, lifting one eyebrow in surprise. "Keeping an eye on me?"

"You need it sometimes," Luke shrugged.

Ani closed his eyes again without further comment on the statement. After a short silence, he asked, "Did you bring anything to eat?"

"Ration bars," Luke replied, pulling one from his vest pocket. "Here."

"Thanks," Ani said as he took the bar. Tearing off the wrapper, he bit into it and made a face, but chewed and swallowed hungrily. He took a second bite, bigger than the first, swallowed it, and then took a third. "I hate these things."

"I know."

"Dad know you're out here?" asked Ani as he finished the bar with a fourth bite.

"Don't think so," Luke shook his head.

"He'll be worried, then," Ani sighed.

"As long as we're back before full dark, he won't worry. He knows you can take care of yourself. Just--next time you're out here, do yourself a favor and take a speeder," Luke advised.

"Okay," Ani laughed.

"So, what happened in there?" Luke wanted to know.

"Visions," Ani closed his eyes again.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" asked Luke.

"No," Ani shook his head.

"What then?"

"I'm not sure I can explain it," Ani bit his lip. The statement was true in more ways than one. Some of what he had seen still made little sense to him. Of what did, there were portions that he couldn't explain to Luke without revealing the truth about Darth Vader. It was still up to Obi Wan to explain that to the twins, and Ani honestly didn't want the responsibility.

"So tell me what you can," Luke shrugged.

"Well, some of it was the past. I saw Dad and Uncle Anakin fighting Asajj Ventress. Then Vader was there, and I fought him with Uncle Anakin using Dad's lightsaber," Ani began.

"Huh?"

"Yeah. I told you I couldn't explain it," Ani forced a smile. "Then Uncle Anakin gave me Qui-Gon's lightsaber, and I saw Dad and Qui-Gon fighting the Zabrak on Naboo during the Blockade Crisis."

"The one who killed Qui-Gon?" Luke glanced at his brother in mild alarm.

"Mmm," Ani gave a troubled nod. "After that it just…became strange. Dad and…Vader fighting. Uncle Anakin and Palpatine fighting."

"Uncle Anakin fought the Emperor?" Luke stared.

"I guess so…I'm not sure how much was…the past and how much was…something else. The future, or--I just don't know," Ani shook his head. "But I guess Uncle Anakin realized who Palpatine was before…before he went back to the Temple on the night of the siege."

"Oh, _man_, Ani," Luke sighed, giving his brother's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. He had never heard the full story of the massacre in the Jedi temple, but he knew enough to understand how traumatic that night had been for Ani. It was enough to at least give him an idea why the vision had shaken the young Jedi.

"Luke, how long do we have now before the evacuation?" Ani asked suddenly.

"About a month or two, I guess. Depends when the _Defiance_ can get here," replied Luke. "Why?"

"Because there's something I have to do here before we go," Anakin Kenobi said. 


	111. Surprises

**Surprises**

It was traditional for a Jedi to build his first lightsaber in the caves of Ilum. The Force-reactive crystals there had been used as focusing gems in Jedi weapons for generations. However, anticipating that access to the caverns would most likely be cut off by the Empire, Obi Wan had constructed a furnace at the old house in the Jundland Wastes which he'd intended for his children to use when the time came for them to create their own lightsabers. At the moment, though, it simply wasn't practical for Ani to return to Tatooine, and although special stones were preferred by the Jedi in the old Order, he knew that commercially available gems could be used without any detriment to the weapons' functionality.

A private bargain with Han secured what he needed, and Ani slipped back to the cave. Intending to fast and meditate as part of the ritual of construction, he took with him only water and more ration bars which he was content enough not to eat in any case. In an emergency, a lightsaber could be built in as little as three or four days. Unwarranted haste was not the Jedi way, however, and Ani intended to take full advantage of the time that he had left on Yavin 4. Obi Wan had instructed him in the crafting of light weapons years ago, but this would be his first real test of those lessons--and he knew what an ambitious undertaking it would be. His meditations ran deep--deeper, in fact, than he had ever attempted to go, but this too was necessary for his purposes. The channeling and attenuation of the Force between the crystals, the metal, and the electronic components required intense concentration, but the balance had to be flawless.

There were visions again, but not the same ones he had experienced before. This time, he was required to face the Sith alone. On Naboo, he was Qui-Gon Jinn when the Zabrak struck him down. On Geonosis, he lost his arm to Dooku, the man who had once mentored Qui-Gon. On Mustafar, though, he was not a Jedi. On Mustafar, he felt the cut of Kenobi's blade and the heat of the planet's fire. He smelled his own flesh as it was charred to nothing. For the first time in his life, he truly understood what it was to hate as he watched his father turn his back and leave him to die. Slowly, he began to discern the flow of the Force which ran between all of them.

Weeks passed. Ani kept up his work both between the visions and through them, in large part allowing them to direct the pace of his efforts, just as he allowed the Force to guide his hands. He watched and listened even as he worked, waiting for the one confrontation which he knew must come. He allowed himself no expectation, no anticipation or fear, but oddly the battle he knew must be fought did not manifest itself.

He sensed it there--sensed Palpatine--just beyond the reach of his ability to see, but the vision was not his goal. He had not come seeking the future but to craft a Jedi weapon. Whatever the outcome of his inevitable confrontation with the Emperor was going to be, he certainly couldn't confront Darth Sidious without a weapon in hand.

------

Mace Windu, meanwhile, was keeping a careful eye on his former apprentice. Vader had taken to brooding over Qui-Gon's lightsaber. He carried it with him beside his own weapon, and if anyone had dared question him, he probably would have called it a war trophy. The Sith Lord didn't sleep, though, and after the Battle of Yavin, he spent long hours in the dark of night turning the hilt over in his hands or simply staring at it. When he did this, he would remain utterly still, and the rasp of his breathing would fill the otherwise silent chamber until the sound became deafening.

At first, it was only Ani that Vader sensed a connection to through the weapon. Ani had handled it the most in the last twenty years; he had learned the way of the lightsaber with it. The metal resonated with the Jedi's Force presence, stirring Vader's awareness of the bond that remained between them. One with the Force, Mace felt it happen, just as he felt the conflict which rose within the Sith Lord as Anakin Skywalker strained desperately after that bond and Vader fought to sever it.

Whispers began in Vader's mind, echoes of a past he had never seen, but which came to him now through his connection to Ani. The voices came first, faint but growing stronger as intrigue overcame the Sith's disdain. Finally, he stopped resisting and allowed sound to deepen into image, and image into feeling.

Three figures stood in the desert, two engaged in mock-combat while the third stood watching. For a few moments, they were all blurry, then they resolved into the unmistakable form of Obi Wan; a young Ani who appeared to be about eleven or twelve; and the oddly blue, shimmering shape of Qui-Gon Jinn, whose arms were crossed against his chest as he watched the spar. A measured twist of Ani's wrist suddenly sent Obi Wan's lightsaber twirling out of his grip.

_"Very good, Ani!" Qui-Gon laughed as the weapon thumped into the sand, stirring up a dusty cloud with its impact._

Ani stepped back automatically. Then his head swiveled from his father to the lightsaber on the ground and back again. Swallowing, he let his saber arm drop and thumbed off his weapon.

"Quite," agreed Obi Wan in obvious surprise. He turned and walked off to pick up the lightsaber, and as Ani watched him, Vader sensed none of the elation that he would have expected from the boy after his unexpected accomplishment.

"Thank you, Masters," he murmured with a quiet sadness which both shocked and satisfied Vader. Obi Wan may have been the first to lay a lightsaber in this child's hands, Qui-Gon may have been the first to encourage him in the ways of the Force, but Anakin Skywalker had given him his first intentional instruction in the use of a Jedi weapon. It was Anakin's approval he still longed for in his moment of success…  
  
"Interesting," Vader spoke into the darkness. "Very interesting."

Mace closed his eyes in disappointment at the reaction. Palpatine had taken advantage of Vader's feeling of disconnectedness from the Force to entrap him, convincing him that Sith teachings were the only way that he could surmount that limitation. In doing so, he had begun the process of finalizing Anakin's isolation from his former life. Believing that both Padme and Ani were dead, Anakin had no further motivation to remain Palpatine's apprentice. The suit then became one, but Sidious knew that it alone would not be enough to keep Vader in check once he had mastered the use of the Dark Side. What imprisoned Vader now was Palpatine's next machination--making him believe that by embracing the Dark Side, Anakin had cut off any hope of returning to the life he had once had. Therefore, in betraying Sidious, Vader would find himself completely alone. He knew by then that he had been manipulated; in fact, he continued to tell himself that he intended to one day betray his Master, but conveniently the opportunity had never presented itself.

Ani continued to hope that knowing he was alive would present Anakin with another option. The path to such a realization would not be an easy one, however. What remained of Anakin was still buried too far within Vader, and he had lived for too long in a world of constant psychological warfare. He may want Ani beside him, but he was no longer capable of accepting the honest devotion that his namesake held to him.

This was what made Qui-Gon so uneasy. Ani's emotional make-up was not something with which Mace was entirely comfortable. However, since becoming one with the Force, he--like Qui-Gon--had come to realize that the ideology of the old Jedi Order would be insufficient to equip the Kenobis to defeat Sidious. They had to be allowed to find their own way, even if Ani's way was currently leading him into the hands of a Vader still intent upon using his attachment to Anakin Skywalker against him.

Both Qui-Gon and Mace felt a certain obligation to help guide the Kenobis in putting an end to the menace of Darth Sidious. Both, in different ways, had contributed to Palpatine's destruction of the Old Republic. However, while Qui-Gon's interest lay more solidly in the investment he had made in the lives of the Kenobi children, Mace felt most keenly a responsibility both for and to Anakin.

He had taken on Skywalker's training when Obi Wan left the Jedi, and Anakin had rightly looked to him for both guidance and stability. He had been one of the first to recognize the danger in the boy's relationship to Palptine, but he had not seen the nature of that danger clearly until it was too late. Further, Anakin had not been wrong when he objected that killing Palpatine without trial was not the Jedi way. All of them had been influenced by the corruption around them, Mace included.

Now, he watched in silence as the Dark Lord clipped Qui-Gon's lightsaber back to his belt and strode from his quarters. Vader swept through the cold, stark white hallways of his new flagship like a Force-empowered hurricane, not stopping until he reached the bridge. The command crew of the Super Star Destroyer _Executor_ turned nervously toward the Sith, but Vader was not interested in them for the moment.

_Anakin,_ he called as he stared out at the glowing sphere of Yavin 4.

_Uncle._

Come to me. Now.

I can't do that. Not yet.

You will not have another chance, boy, Vader warned.

That's always been up to you, Uncle Anakin.

"Admiral Griff," Vader called aloud.

"Yes, Lord Vader," the ship's commander stepped quickly up beside him.

"Commence the assault."

-----

Han raced through the smoking halls of Massassi Station, almost colliding with Luke as they each rounded opposite sides of the same corner. Luke swerved with uncanny agility to avoid him, and Han pivoted to face him, reaching hurriedly to grab the pilot by the shoulder.

"Hey! Where you goin?"

"Ani's still in the cave," Luke explained.

"Where's the old man?" demanded Han.

"In the command center with Leia. Neither one of them will leave until I have Ani," Luke said as another blast shook the building.

"Yeah, we'll see about that!" Han declared, starting up the hall again.

"What are you gonna do?" Luke cried after him.

"Shoot 'em!"

In the command center, he found Obi Wan leaning over Jan Dodonna's right shoulder while Leia monitored communications with outgoing craft. All three turned to look at him, but the generals quickly turned their attention back to the holodisplay in front of them.

"What are you doing here?" Leia demanded.

"I'm getting your father outta here!" Han said, not stopping on his path toward the old man.

Obi Wan spun in surprise. "You're what?"

"You heard me!" Han glared. "Chewie's got the Falcon ready for liftoff. Let's go."

"Captain Solo, I'm not going anywhere for the moment--"

"Oh, yes, you are! I promised Mom that I'd get you off this rock and that's what I'm gonna do!" Han insisted, leveling the blaster in his hand at the Jedi.

"What…? You _promised…?_" Obi Wan's eyes widened.

"_Mom!_ Y'know--your wife?"

_"So you're going to shoot him?"_ Leia shouted.

"If that's what I gotta do to get him out, yeah!" Han snapped.

"Oh, that's so going to work," muttered Leia.

"All right," Obi Wan held up his hands quietly. "There's no need to shoot anyone, son. I'll…come along with you."

Han narrowed an eye in confusion. "Oh. All right. Good, then. That's good. You too, Your Worship. Move it!"


	112. Reunions

Despite their delayed start, Ani and Luke actually made it to the Fleet before the rest of the family. The _Falcon_ took damage before it could jump to hyperspace and was one of the last ships to come limping in to the rendezvous point. The boys in the hangar with Padme, Isaly, and the rest of the welcoming party when the ship finally docked. Padme shifted Junior into his father's arms and ran for the ramp before it had even fully lowered. Bail raced up along with her, and Obi Wan saw him reach for Leia just before Padme flung her arms around his neck.

"I was so worried when the boys got here and you didn't," she told him.

"Darling, the worst thing you had to worry about was Han shooting me," he winked.

"Han shooting you?" she blinked.

"Hey, you asked me to get him out. You didn't say anything about how!" Han broke in as he followed the couple down off the ramp.

"Well, at least there's one man in this family who does what I want when I ask him to," Padme grinned.

"Uh, family?" Han coughed. "Me?"

"You did call Padme 'Mom,'" Obi Wan reminded him.

"Twice," Leia piped up.

"Yeah, well, I--"

"It's really useless to resist them, Captain Solo," Bail chuckled.

"Listen--"

"Han!" Shmi cut him off, breaking away from Isaly to wrap her arms around the smuggler's waist.

"Someone missed her Master," Obi Wan remarked.

"Right," Han sighed.

Shmi paused and craned her neck to look up at him with a grin. "I miss you, too, Grandpa!"

He smiled and laid hand on her cheek, but before he could formulate a reply, he felt a presence which, after more than eighteen years, still had the power to set his teeth on edge. He turned just in time to see the tall, lanky form of Jar Jar Binks come bounding into the hangar.

The Gungan made straight for him, orange head wagging, ears and tongue flapping in excitement as he charged toward the astonished Jedi. As he ran, he shouted with an unrestrained joy that made the rest of the group dissolve into laughter despite themselves.

_"Obi, Obi, Obi!"_

"Padme," Obi Wan murmured while Jar Jar was still out of earshot. "Please tell me that _this_ was not the surprise."

"Oh, no, darling," she smiled. "Jar Jar was just an added bonus."

"Wonderful," Obi Wan replied as Jar Jar reached them, still bouncing with happiness.

"Obi, mesa sooo smilen ta seein' yousa!" he declared, engulfing the Jedi in an effusive hug. "Mesa tinkin' yousa bein' dead by now!"

"No, he's not dead," Ani called laughingly. "Not yet."

"I'm sure Han will fix that soon enough," Leia remarked.

"Hey!" objected Han.

Jar Jar pulled back and twisted his head to look at Ani. In the process, his floppy ear nearly smacked Obi Wan in the face, forcing the Jedi Master to duck out of the way. Just as he began to straighten, Jar Jar turned again, this time directing his attention toward Leia.

"Whosa dis?" he asked, then spun toward Ani again. "And dis!"

Obi Wan was busy ducking to avoid another assault by the Gungan's ear, so Padme stepped in, taking the excitable creature warmly by the arm. "This is little Ani, Jar Jar."

Jar Jar made no reply for a second, and Obi Wan hurriedly stepped closer to Ani and Luke to avoid being accosted by his ears again. As he did, he saw that Jar Jar wasn't talking because his mouth had dropped completely open in shock. Finally, though, he recovered enough to let out a cry of surprise.

"Wahhhhhhh! Ani??? Little-bitty Ani!"

"That's right," Padme laughed. "He's all grown up now."

"Nooooooooooooooooo!"

"I'm afraid so," Padme told him, then gently turned him toward Leia again. "And this is our daughter, Leia."

"And their future son-in-law, Han," Ani threw in.

"Ooooooooh! Yousa marryin' da Masta Jedi daughta?????" Jar Jar exclaimed excitedly.

"Well, I, uh--"

"See, he didn't say no this time," Luke grinned.

"I noticed," agreed Ani.

"Stop it, you two!" Leia glared at her brothers.

"What…?" the pair regarded her with expressions of innocent confusion.

"Jar Jar," Obi Wan interrupted before the bickering could escalate. He tilted his head to indicate Luke and explained, "This is our younger boy, Luke."

Jar Jar grinned widely and hurried to offer Luke a hand. "Yousa da famous rebel pilot!"

Luke ducked his head, raising one hand to the back of his neck while he clasped Jar Jar's hand with the other. "I guess so."

There were a few more minutes of small-talk before Bail began herding the group out of the hangar. Obi Wan slipped back to Padme's side and the couple linked arms around one another's backs as they walked. Leia hurried to hug Isaly and take Obi-Too from her, but as soon as she had the baby, it became clear that she wasn't through with her brothers.

"Just because the two of you are so determined to make Han a Kenobi is no reason to marry me off!" she told them.

"Well, we don't have another sister," Ani pointed out.

"That's just too bad, isn't it, Anakin?" she retorted.

"Hey, I happen to like bein' a Solo!" Han barked.

"Good, because when you marry Leia, she's going to have to take your name anyway," Luke pointed out.

Laughing quietly, Padme let her head come to rest on her husband's shoulder. "I've missed you."

"We won't be apart like this again. I promise," Obi Wan whispered, pressing his lips to her hair.

------

Much as they had at Massassi Station, Padme and Isaly began their stay with the Rebel Fleet in shared quarters, with Padme wanting to be as close by as she could in order to help her daughter-in-law with the children. Ani and Obi Wan joined them, while Luke billeted with the Rogues and Leia maintained her own rooms as this made it easier for her to attend her duties.

On the one hand, Padme felt relieved to be able to return to some sort of familiar routine now that the family was together again. On the other, she knew that the arrangement would only be temporary, and that knowledge left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach as she listened to Obi Wan move about the 'fresher that was adjacent to their bedroom.

The door slid open, and he stepped into the room, raising an eyebrow at the sight of her still awake in the chair opposite the bed. She smiled a little, and he moved over to the foot of the bed, tilting his head as he lowered himself onto it. She shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Thought you were tired," he said.

"I am," she admitted. True to his prediction, the kids had been eager to celebrate the family's reunion, and the two of them had been unable to sneak away for a nap.

"What's wrong?" Obi Wan asked.

"It's going to be so empty with the kids on Dagobah," she sighed.

"They're not gone yet," he reminded her.

"I know. Not very Jedi-like of me, is it?" she smiled.

"What?"

"Being sad about something that hasn't even happened yet," she replied.

"I suppose not," he said thoughtfully.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not a Jedi," she said.

"So, what's my excuse?" he asked with a smile of his own.

"I don't know. We'll have to think one up," she frowned in consideration.

He laughed quietly, and a companionable silence fell between them. After a few minutes, she moved from the chair to the bed and took his hand, holding it in both of hers. Idly, she traced a finger over contours of his palm for a while, then paused and raised her eyes to look at him.

"Why did you let Han pull you out like that?" she asked.

"You already know," he shrugged.

She shook her head.

"You wanted me to go with him or you wouldn't have asked him to do it in the first place," he explained.

"I didn't ask him to pull a blaster on you!"

"I know," he assured her.

"So, you went because you knew it was what I wanted?" she asked.

"Mmm. And I didn't particularly want Leia staying any longer, but she wouldn't leave the boys unless I went first. Besides, if I had tried a mind trick to disarm Han, he never would have trusted me again," Obi Wan replied.

"No, he wouldn't," she agreed.

"And I certainly wasn't going to get involved in a physical altercation with him in the middle of an Imperial attack," added Obi Wan.

"I still can't believe he tried to shoot you," she sighed.

He chuckled. "Han is not a man to be underestimated."

"I…told him that he reminds me of Anakin," she said slowly.

"In many ways, yes," Obi Wan nodded. "But I think that Han is a lot smarter about the ways of the galaxy than Anakin was."

"That's why he'll be good for Leia," she said.

"You know, he reminds me a bit of Dex," he smiled teasingly.

"Maybe I should have gone with you to meet Dex," she admitted.

"Maybe you should have," his smile widened into a grin.

"Do you have any idea where he is now?" she wanted to know.

He shook his head sadly. "No, but if I know Dex, he's not sitting still for the Empire's policies on non-humans."

"Good," she murmured.

"Padme," he began with a sudden frown.

"Hmm?"

"So, if Jar Jar is not this surprise of yours, what is it?" he asked.

Now she grinned. "You'll find out when the _Falcon's_ been repaired."

"The _Falcon?"_

"Yes, I asked Han to take us," she nodded.

"Take us where?"

"You'll find out, Obi Wan," she repeated.

"You know, this new tendency of you and Han toward conspiracy is very disturbing," he told her with a mock-stern glare.

"I'm sure you'll get used to it," she winked.

"You just hope your daughter gets used to it," he laughed.

"She seemed a lot more at ease tonight," Padme observed. "With the family, not just Han."

"She's been quite enjoying the journal," he related.

"Has she?"

"Especially if she's had a bad day or something. She's even read it to Han a few times," he nodded.

"What does he think?"

"Oh, he's ridiculous. He won't admit that he likes he likes it, but he pesters her when she reads it until she reads aloud to get him to shut up," Obi Wan rubbed his eyes with the fingertips of his free hand.

"I don't know what we're going to do with him," Padme sighed.

"She's no better," Obi Wan pointed out.

"I know. How is her Jedi training going?" she asked.

"Remarkably well under the circumstances," he replied with obvious surprise. "Oh, and she and I had a long discussion on the way here about lightsabers and their symbolic importance to the Jedi Order and by extension now the Rebellion."

Padme blinked. "Oh really?"

"Ani going off to the cave like that made her curious, I suppose. Made her start thinking," he said. "She's already been carrying Anakin's anyway."

"You want Luke to have it back," she observed.

"I can't put my finger on it," he said slowly. "I just know he's supposed to have it."

"Do you think she's ready to build one?" she frowned.

"Certainly more ready than Anakin was at thirteen when he built his first one," said Obi Wan pensively.

"And what about Ani?" she asked, having already gotten a look at what was now hanging from their oldest son's belt.

"Ani is a Jedi Knight," he replied without hesitation. "It's his decision now, not mine."


	113. Home And Family

The surprise, as it turned out, was a trip to the tailor's--or rather, having the tailor meet them half way. What little of both Padme's and Obi Wan's old wardrobes that she had been able to bring with them from Coruscant to Tatooine had long since been bartered away, either for supplies or clothing more appropriate to their new lives. Since coming out of hiding, she had been relying on Bail and Leia for clothing that suited her station as a former Senator of the Republic and a representative of the Rebel Alliance. However, Alderaanian resources were very limited and were more and more stretched as refuges who had been off the planet at the time of its destruction began to learn that both members of the House of Organa had survived. Obi Wan had been comfortable and quite content remaining in his Jedi robes, which were convenient and safe enough while on Yavin 4. The personnel there knew him and there was no possibility that his clothing would attract unwanted attention. Now, however, it was going to become necessary to wear something else, whether or not he particularly wanted to re-assume the public persona of General Kenobi.

While she and Isaly had been with the Fleet, Padme had reestablished contacts on Naboo, including some of the tailors responsible for her public attire. There might have been other ways for the Kenobis to acquire what she wanted for them, but they were also sorely lacking credits, and there was the added fact that most of the Naberries were still there. Staying in Theed would have been too risky for the entire family, so Han landed the _Falcon_ at Varyinko under cover of night.

Walking up the long flight of wooden stairs in the dark, it was impossible to really see the flower beds or the beautiful hanging vines that draped the walkway. Crossing the terrace, however, everyone paused to admire the silver shimmer of the moonlight over the smooth water of the lake, and Jar Jar had to be shushed several times to keep him from waking up Obi-Too and Junior. Artoo beeped and sputtered at him, inciting an argument with Gungan, to which Threepio responded with woeful exclamations about rudeness on both of their parts.

"All three of you, be quiet!" Shmi whispered, suddenly perking up from where she had been drowsing in Han's arms with her head on his shoulder.

Chewie yowled agreement.

"You too, bigmouth!" Han craned his neck toward the Wookiee. "Can't ya see the kids are sleeping?"

"Han! Shh!" Leia hissed from behind him.

"Just tryin'a help, Your Worship," he whispered.

"Well, stop."

"Oh, by the Force," Isaly sighed. "Mom, where are we going?"

"This way," Padme laughed, leading her and Ani inside. Han, Chewie and Leia followed them, since Han was still carrying Shmi. Obi Wan took Luke, Jar Jar and the droids down to the opposite end of the same corridor, where he knew there should be more bedrooms.

Once their offspring were all settled, Obi Wan and Padme met on the terrace again, where they leaned on their elbows against the balustrade. For a while, they neither wanted nor needed to speak but only to watch the water again and breathe the flower-perfumed air. The happiness he sensed from mirrored his own and mingled with it as she laid her cheek against his shoulder. Gently, he slipped his arm around her, drawing her against his side.

"Everything's just the way I remember it," he said quietly. "It even smells the same."

He felt her smile, even if he couldn't see it. "I'm glad it still feels like home to you."

"Home is in Theed. Your parents' house. But there are good memories here," he said.

"It's good to be back. Even if we're not staying," she agreed.

"We'll come back again someday," he promised.

"I know," she nodded.

"When do Sola and the girls get here?" he asked.

"First thing in the morning," she replied.

"And the tailor?" he asked with a poorly repressed sigh.

"After lunch, so don't eat too much," she chuckled.

"Yes, dear."

-----

Padme ran down the steps as soon as her sister stepped onto the dock. Obi Wan waved the kids back, and the two sisters met at the foot of the stairs. Though she had resolved not to cry, tears streamed down Padme's cheeks before they even reached one another. She wasn't sure which of them pulled the other into her arms, only that both were caught in some overwhelming mix of laughter and tears. They held one another tightly for a long time, and Padme's fiercest wish was that the moment might never end. Finally, it had to though. Sola drew back and pressed her hands to either side of Padme's face, then wiped her sister's tears.

"Welcome home," she smiled.

"Thanks," Padme whispered.

Both smiled, then Padme turned to lead the way up the stairs, keeping a firm hold on her sister's hand. Sola didn't hesitate, but Padme could feel some of her surprise at the number of beings on the terrace. Holding back a laugh, she decided that it was probably a good thing that the tailor wouldn't be here until lunch. Introductions would probably take that long.

"What a horde," Sola murmured. "Are they all yours?"

"In one way or another," Padme nodded.

Ryoo and Pooja had already gone up to the terrace, and when the two sisters reached them, Ryoo and Ani had just come to a halt in front of one another. Padme had expected a touch of hesitation from her son, who was generally quiet and reserved around those he didn't know well, but when Ryoo grasped him by the shoulders, it was as if all the years of separation dissolved. Both cousins broke into wide grins and embraced as tightly as Padme and Sola had.

"Little Ani, I can't believe how big you are!" Ryoo exclaimed.

"You'd think I could stop being 'little Ani,'" he laughed. "You know…eventually, maybe."

"Never," Ryoo shook her head.

Obi Wan walked over to kiss Sola's cheek. They hugged warmly, then all three parents turned to watch their children's interaction with mutually satisfied smiles. Pooja was busy hugging Leia and by extension Obi-Too, who was in Leia's arms. After a few seconds she stepped back and bent to peer at the grinning baby in astonishment.

"Wait! Obi-Too, you have teeth!"

"Four now," Leia nodded proudly.

Junior, unhappy with the amount of attention that his twin was suddenly getting, let out a little shriek. Isaly laughed and kissed the top of his head, but he wasn't so easily satisfied. Pooja turned apologetically.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Junior! How many teeth do you have?" she asked.

"Only three," Isaly replied, leaning forward to kiss Pooja's cheek in greeting.

"Now he'll be determined to cut a new one just to keep up with his brother," Ani sighed as he led Ryoo over to the rest of the group.

"Well, would you expect anything less?" Isaly asked jokingly.

"Not really," Ani shook his head. "Ryoo, this is my wife Isaly and our son Anakin. That's our other son, Obi-Wan over there with Leia…and…oh. That's our daughter Shmi hiding behind Luke."

"Am not!" Shmi declared as her head poked out from behind Luke's back.

"Then what are you doing behind Uncle?" Ani asked.

"Like it back here," she replied.

"Oh, of course," Ani rolled his eyes.

Luke turned and held out a hand to her. "C'mon, let's go say hello to Ryoo."

"Okay," she shrugged. Then she took the hand he offered and practically dragged him over to Ryoo. "Hi, I'm Li'l One."

"It's nice to meet you, Little One," Ryoo laughed. "I knew your father when he was littler than you."

"Daddy was never this small," Shmi shook her head.

"Yes, he was," Ryoo grinned. "But he wasn't as cute as you are."

"Oh, thanks, cousin," Ani sighed.

"Quite welcome, little Ani," she teased.

Ani covered his face with his hand. "I give up."

"And it's good to meet you too, Luke," Ryoo added. "We've been hearing quite a lot about you and your Rogues lately."

Luke smiled and gave her cheek a light peck, then Ani continued with the introductions. He frowned for a second, looking around to see who was left, finally directing Ryoo's attention toward Chewie.

"This is Chewbacca, a friend of the family. He helped us all save Leia before the Battle of Yavin," Ani said with a nod to the Wookiee.

He tilted his head, surprised at the credit for his involvement. Ryoo, of course, would have heard a bit of that story from her sister, as well as the fact that it was Chewie who had carried their cousin when he, Obi Wan and the twins had arrived on Yavin 4. She stepped forward with a warm smile, offering him her hand. He took it carefully, giving it a little shake and then backed off a bit self-consciously.

Ani smiled indulgently toward their big friend, then pointed at Jar Jar. "And this is a very old friend of Mom and Dad's, Jar Jar Binks. You'll remember Artoo and Threepio, of course--wait," he paused, looking over his shoulder toward Padme. "Mom, there's someone missing."

"There is," she agreed, having come to the same realization a moment earlier. She looked around for a few seconds, then not finding the elusive final member of the party, folded her arms and walked off the terrace. She found Han hovering in the shadows by the doorway, pretending to have developed a sudden interest in the molding there.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Uh…"

"Right," she held out her hand expectantly.

"Ah, c'mon," he protested.

She beckoned with her fingers and raised an eyebrow. "C'mon."

Han heaved a sigh and let his chin drop to his chest, but then squared his shoulders and walked back outside without taking her hand. Padme smiled and followed him, linking her arm affectionately through his as Ani finished the introductions. Amusingly, he stiffened more at the open show of acceptance from her than at the good-natured ribbing he received from Ani.

"And the late arrival here is Captain Han Solo, Dad's personal bodyguard and soon to be Leia's husband," he said with a wink to Ryoo.

"Ani, will ya cut that out!" Han exclaimed.

"Cut what out?" Ani asked innocently.

"You know what!"

"Ryoo, if you don't believe me, you can ask Shmi. She'll tell you," Ani smirked.

"Han's gonna marry Aunt Leia!" Shmi nodded emphatically.

Leia closed her eyes and gave her head a slow shake in exasperation. Notably, however, she didn't object. Sola shot a questioning look between Obi Wan and Padme, who replied with a mutual grin.

"Is this anything like the day you came to Grandma and Grandpa's house for the first time, Uncle Obi Wan?" Ryoo asked with a laugh.

"Something like that, yes," Obi Wan winked.

"Well, then, Captain Solo, I hope you'll allow me to continue Naberrie tradition and be the first to welcome you the family," Ryoo said smoothly.


	114. Tadpoles

After breakfast, Ryoo and Pooja wanted to take their cousins for a speederboat cruise around the lake. Han managed to extricate himself and escape back to the _Falcon _with Chewie in tow, so Shmi ran after him. Consequently, Ani and Isaly left the twins with Padme and Sola, promising to take the kids out later. Surprisingly, Jar Jar didn't want to come along, saying something to the effect that he remembered too well how Kenobis drove in the water.

It was soon apparent that his concern wasn't entirely unfounded. Paddy Accu, the old caretaker of Varyinko who used to take Ani and his older cousins for boat rides, was gone now, but he had instructed Ryoo quite well in how to pilot his favorite watercraft. With the speeder cruising above the water and a cool wind whipping over their skins and making the girls' hair stream out behind them, she called over her shoulder for Ani. In the back of the boat with his arms around Isaly, he momentarily deferred, reminding her that Luke was the pilot in the family.

"Oh, no, this is your territory, big brother," objected Luke.

"I've heard you're not such a bad pilot yourself, Ani," Leia added.

"Yeah, where'd you hear that?" he challenged.

"Han," she replied with a look that dared him to argue with the hot-shot pilot's assessment of his skills.

"Yeah, well, flying the _Falcon_ in a pinch is different from cruising a boat," Ani shook his head.

"Come on, Ani, you know you want to drive," Isaly laughed, disentangling herself from his embrace. She gave him a playful push, and finally he moved up next to Ryoo.

After a brief lesson, she slid out to allow him behind the controls. Piloting the craft came to him quickly, though he only vaguely remembered the times that Paddy had allowed him to take the wheel as boy. Much as he had learned to do with spacecraft, he made the speederboat an extension of himself, gradually coming to sense and feel its motion and response as it glided over the lake.

The downthrusters churned only a slight, barely discernable wake. Every so often, a wave clipped in, and a fine spray broke over the bow. They all laughed, reveling in the wind and the contrast of the warm sun and cool water on their skin. For Ani, it was the first time that he and the twins had truly played together since childhood. It was the first time ever that they had done so with Isaly, and having Ryoo and Pooja along for the ride made the trip that much more significant.

"Put her down, Ani!" Pooja urged, shouting over the wind.

"Huh?"

"You remember, don't you?" Ryoo asked, pointing to a small lever by his right hand.

"Oh!" Ani grinned devilishly. "Yeah, I remember."

"What…?" asked Isaly nervously. She'd gotten used to rain while on Yavin 4, but being out on open water like this was still somewhat unsettling. While he knew that she was enjoying herself, he could still feel an uncharacteristic level of tension in her.

"Don't worry, honey," he said reassuringly. Then he pushed the lever forward--and the speeder dropped into the water. He kicked in the accelerator, and speeder jetted off across the water, no longer smooth in flight, but bouncing across the rippling surface.

Leia and Isaly both shrieked. They raised their arms in a reflexive effort to shield themselves from the now-continuous spray thrown up by the ship's prow. Luke and their cousins laughed at the two young women's shock, and they let their arms drop. First Leia, then Isaly began to laugh, but Ani wasn't through with them. Zig-zagging a wild course around the lake, he pushed the accelerator as hard as it would go and began to flip the craft on edge. It would skim through the water with one side in the air, then crash down again, giving them all a jostling and soaking them with frothing waves. Then he whipped them around some more until the boat rose onto its other side. A few times, he took them so high that even Pooja and Ryoo began to fear they would tip over, but he never lost control, and before long all of them were lost in hysterical laughter.

Suddenly, he recalled a long ago conversation with Obi Wan, and he had to smile. Anakin Skywalker had been behind the wheel that day, and Obi Wan had admonished his former Padawan that, with Ani along, they needed to go slow. At the time, however, going slow had been the farthest thing from Ani's mind.

_I don't like to slow, Dad!_

Of course not. Your name is Anakin.

Perhaps there was more truth in that comparison than Ani had thought. For the first time in a very long time, he also found himself hoping he was now correct. He knew that his parents had been right to instill such a strong sense of duty in the their children, but Anakin had been right about some things as well. He had understood the value of living beyond duty and responsibility. He would have understood the simple, vibrant thrill of a ride like this, for no other reason than that the sun was warm, the lake was cold, and the boat was waiting.

_I will bring you home,_ he promised. _One way or the other, I will bring you home._

-----

Padme and Sola had decided on a picnic lunch. Obi Wan had offered to help them pack it--pleaded with them to let him do so, in fact. The sisters, however, assured him that they were quite capable of handling lunch without his assistance. This left him and Jar Jar babysitting the twins. Fortunately for him, though, they liked the Gungan, having apparently decided that his ears were their new favorite toys. With a twin in each arm because neither would consent to give the other access to Jar Jar without him, the Gungan was so busy having his head yanked from one side to the other and holding a discussion with the twins about the situation that he had little energy left over to pester Obi Wan.

The Jedi Master, therefore, spent a fairly pleasant morning on the terrace, where he could see the speeder boat that the kids were riding around the lake in. He leaned his arms on the balustrade with a contented smile, watching the cruise without any particular interest. Then it began to rock up and down on its sides.

"Who in blazes is piloting that thing?" he asked, though he wasn't really expecting an answer.

Jar Jar trotted up beside him and grinned. "Mesa give you three guesses. An' de first two don't be counten."

Obi Wan raised his eyebrows. "Ani knows better than that, Jar Jar."

"Mesa tinkin Anakin was knowin betta once too," the Gungan replied, then winced as the twins began yanking on his ears again. "OWWWWWWWWWW!"

"Oh, come on, Jar Jar, they're infants. It doesn't hurt that much," Obi Wan chuckled.

"Ha! How yousa liken yousa ears yanked 'round by de Jedi babies?" demanded Jar Jar.

"They pull on my beard all the time. It can't be that much different," Obi Wan shrugged.

"Gungan ears bein' muy, muy sensitive! Yousa beard no more den a fuzzy ting on de chin," Jar Jar argued.

"Well, you could put them down for a while," Obi Wan suggested.

"Den deysa cryin," sighed Jar Jar.

"They'll get over it in a few minutes," Obi Wan assured him.

"Kenobi babies muy stubborn. Mesa Gungan ears hurtin too much wid de screamin," Jar Jar replied.

"Well, I suppose your ears are just doomed, then," Obi Wan shook his head.

"Dat wat mesa tinkin," Jar Jar sighed. "But please. No tellin dis ta Threepio."

"Don't worry, I won't," Obi Wan promised. He turned back to the lake for a few moments, then frowned. "Jar Jar."

"Ow! Yes?"

Obi Wan looked thoughtfully at the Gungan, stifling another chuckle at his grandchildren's antics. "There's something I have wanted to say to you for a long time."

"Oh? Wat dat?"

"Padme was right about what she said when I met her. You remember, don't you? When you and she were talking and I walked in?" he asked.

"De Queen sayin' yousa deserve to be a Padawan learner," he nodded. Then he tilted his head, not following the Jedi Master's line of thought.

"I was very rude to you throughout the Blockade Crisis, and I shouldn't have locked you in the droid storage bay. I apologize," Obi Wan said.

Jar Jar's big eyes grew even larger, and he stared at the Jedi for several seconds, obviously unsure of what to say. Then he ducked his head in acceptance. When he spoke, his tone was unusually grave.

"Dem was bad times. Bombad times, Obi-One. Muy great weight on de shoulders of a young Padawan. Mesa forgiven dis a long-o time gone," he replied.

"Thank you," Obi Wan smiled, giving the Gungan's arm a squeeze.

"Yousa believe all dis time dat mesa still holdin' grudges?" Jar Jar asked lightly.

"No," Obi Wan shook his head. "You never held a grudge. I know that. But it still needed to be said."

Jar Jar was quiet for a moment, and his expression grew somber. "Bombad times wesa livin in now. Sometimes mesa feelin' dat mesa to blame for alla dis. De Empire."

"What…?" Obi Wan stared back at him without comprehension.

"Mesa propose da vote to give da Chancellor emergency powers. Makin' da Clone army," Jar Jar reminded him.

The Jedi shook his head. "Jar Jar, it wasn't your idea, it was his. Remember, in those days even Bail Organa supported Palpatine's politics. The Jedi couldn't see through Palpatine either. No one did until it was too late. You weren't any more responsible or any more deceived by him than the rest of us."

"Mebbe," allowed Jar Jar with a shrug. The two old friends then fell silent and turned their attention back to the lake, where the speeder boat was now turning tight circles.

"They're all going to be soaking wet," Obi Wan remarked.

"Nuttin wrong wit dat," said Jar Jar.

"Well, not for a Gungan, I suppose," Obi Wan said with an indulgent laugh.

"Yousa tadpoles reminden of mesa son," Jar Jar told him.

"Son?" Obi Wan blinked, shooting a surprised glance toward his companion.

"Abso Bar a bery great warrior. Serven in dis Rebellion," explained Jar Jar with a smile.

"Really?" Obi Wan gestured for the Gungan to tell him more.

"Wesa all believing dat Padme gone to da guds. Mesa bein' de new Naboo Senator. Stayin muy quiet like Senator Organa, ta make no trouble an watch on da Emperor. Dat how mesa escape alive when many Naboo ambassadors were dyin after Queen Apailana was found ta be hiden de Jedi survivors. Afta dat, mesa retire to New Otoh Gunga, soon ta marry.

"Most Gungans be stayin outa de way, hiden unda da water where deysa tinkin ta be safe. Abso and hesa friends goin on to be Rebels, serven on de beeg ship, de _Tantive V,_" related Jar Jar.

"You mean the _Tantive IV?_" Obi Wan frowned.

"No, no," Jar Jar shook his head. "_Tantive V_ da decoy ship. Stallin' Vader to make Leia time to be bringin' da big space booma plans to Alderaan. Vader catchin' de ship an' da Gungans fight da storm troopers 'til de bad boss Dark Lord comin' say Leia no onboard."

"Vader didn't kill them all?" Obi Wan asked.

"No," Jar Jar shook his head. "Troopers wanten to kill da survivors, but Vader set de ship loose driftin, locken da Gungans up."

"Strange," murmured Obi Wan.

"Yousa seemin' muy troubled, Obi-One," Jar Jar observed.

"It's nothing," the Jedi said dismissively. "Where is Abso now?"

"Hesa escape. Now widda big Fleet. Hesa senden word when Padme come, knowin dat mesa would make fast time flyin' to see mesa friend. Den yousa come widda tadpoles!" Jar Jar grinned, pointing with his chin toward the lake.

Obi Wan smiled and looked that way as well, noting that the speederboat was now on its way back toward the dock. Then he turned, resting a hand on the Gungan's shoulder. Jar Jar tilted his head again, waiting for him to speak.

"Jar Jar, it's very likely that Abso saved Leia's life when he helped stall Vader," Obi Wan said quietly. "She was scheduled for execution when the boys found her. If she hadn't been given time to send Artoo to us, we never would have been able to reach her before that sentence was carried out. We might never have known until it was too late. We owe you both our thanks," Obi Wan told him.

"Wesa happy to help friends," Jar Jar replied. "An' proud to be serven in dis Rebellion. Whenever de need comes, Obi-One, wesa ready to oursa part."

"I know," nodded the Jedi as the speederboat finally slowed and glided into the dock.

A few moments later, the Kenobi and Naberrie "tadpoles" all came clomping rather noisily onto the terrace. Ani was in the lead, with Luke directly behind, clapping his older brother on the shoulder. All of them were laughing and talking excitedly, appearing completely oblivious to the trail of water and dirty footprints they were leaving across the terrace.

"See, I told you Luke wasn't the only pilot in the family," Leia said.

"I think the space ways are safe enough," Ani shook his head. Then he caught sight of the Obi Wan and Jar Jar. "Hey, you two."

There followed a clamor of greetings, after which Obi Wan told them all to go inside and dry themselves off before lunch. Hearing that a picnic was in the works, they all scrambled to do so, leaving the Jedi and the Gungan to shake their heads. Jar Jar then turned back to Obi Wan with a knowing smirk.

"Mebbe yousa not knowin de boy so well as yousa tink," he remarked.

"Apparently not…" 


	115. A Day On The Edge of Forever

The thick, verdant meadow grass was sprinkled with flowers of every shape and color. Bordering it, shining waterfalls spilled into the lake, and from this vantage point, Leia could about the distant hills, all the way to the horizon. Puffballs floated by on the warm breeze, and puffy clouds drifted across the shining blue sky above. She knew from her mother's journal that this was the place her parents had spent the happiest hours of their honeymoon at Varyinko, and after being here for even a short time, she had to admit that it was easy to see why.

There were two large blankets spread in the grass. One of them was ranged with containers of food, plates, napkins and cutlery. The other was ostensibly for the twins to play and/or nap on, but neither of them were inclined to stay there, even with Leia and Isaly to keep them company. The rest of the family was lounging about in the grass, talking idly.

Han hadn't been able to escape this time, and now Padme was busy trying to instruct him and Shmi in how to make a flower chain. Leia watched them, but was careful not to keep her gaze on the smuggler for too long, since every time she glanced in his direction, she had the feeling that Ani and Luke were smirking. Once or twice, he accidentally looked up at her at the same time, and she would have to consciously remind herself to breathe.

A herd of benevolent creatures called shaaks grazed contentedly nearby, seemingly oblivious to the couple. They were curious-looking four-legged beasts, with huge, bloated bodies. Insects buzzed about in the air, as well, but they were too busy with the flowers to bother the Kenobis. Leia leaned back on her elbows, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face and bare shoulders. Her brothers were trading stories with Ryoo and Pooja, and she half listened to the discussion, her attention wandering toward the grazers.

"Mom?" she asked suddenly. "Aren't those the things that you and Uncle Anakin rode around on?"

"Yes, they are," Padme laughed.

The boys suddenly stopped talking. They both stared at their mother silently for a second, then Ani's mouth began to work as he sought for words. It was Luke who recovered enough to speak first.

"You rode them?"

"They're harmless," Padme assured him.

"Yeah, but they're huge!" Luke exclaimed.

"Why don't you try it, kid?" Han suggested.

"What?" Luke stared.

"What are you scared?" laughed Han.

"No!" Luke insisted.

"C'mon, Luke, you've ridden Eopies," Ani urged.

"Eopies have saddles. Besides, so have you. I don't see you running over there and jumping on one of those things," Luke retorted.

"I've had my adventure for the day. It's your turn," Ani shrugged.

"You can ride the shaak, Uncle Luke!" Shmi nodded eagerly. "I wanna see!"

Luke sighed, knowing that while he could have rebuffed Ani and Han, there was no way for him to refuse that request. He shucked off his jacket, looped it over his arm, and stood up, dusting his hands on his pants. Then, with the rest of the family laughing and calling encouragement after him, he ran toward the shaaks, waving his jacket to attract their attention. The usually passive animals snorted in surprise and looked up at him nervously. He picked one and waved the jacket again, running in close to bait it, and then backing off again, until it finally chased after him. They disappeared over the hill, and Leia laughed so hard that she fell over in hysterics.

She completely lost the ability to breathe a few moments later when Luke and the shaak reappeared. Now, her brother was indeed riding the beast, one hand clenched on a fold of its flesh, the other high and waving behind him for balance. Making it even more ridiculous was the fact that he was riding backwards, facing the animal's tail.

"Yay, Uncle Luke!" Shmi jumped to her feet in excitement.

"I don't believe it," Han muttered.

"When are you going to learn to stop saying that?" Ani laughed.

"Oh, dear! Master Luke, do be careful!" cried Threepio.

Luke and the shaak made several circuits around the meadow with the family whooping and yelling encouragement after them. Then, he began to get daring. Leia caught her breath, sitting up sharply as she realized that her twin was attempting to stand up on the back of the grazer.

"Luke, be careful!" she warned.

He made it to his feet, still using one hand to balance awkwardly and then slowly started to straighten. The shaak was moving at a full gallop, and Leia tensed, aware that at any moment it might buck and throw him off. The laughter died off as Luke released his handgrip and tottered on the creature's back. After a few precarious seconds, though, he gained his balance, and a triumphant cheer rose up from the onlookers as he rode around the meadow again, arms outstretched on either side.

Finally, he leapt off, using the Force to sail high into the air, clearing the grazer's path. He landed with a soft thud a few feet from the picnic and sprinted over to join the group again.

Shmi threw her arms around him, acting as if he'd just blown up a second Death Star. He laughed, swinging her up into his arms as the rest of the group began to applaud his feat. He grinned back with just a hint of self-consciousness.

"Way to go kid," Han laughed.

"I told you you could do it," nodded Ani.

"Luke the shaak-tamer!" Isaly added teasingly. "You should take that act on the road."

"Maybe I will," Luke shot back. "What do you think, Sis, you wanna be my assistant?"

"What?" Leia asked, eyes widening.

"I want to!" Shmi cried.

"Aunt Leia gets the job this time, Little One," Luke smiled, letting her slide to the ground again. She pouted for a second or two, then went and flopped down beside Han. Luke held out his hand to Leia, grinning expectantly.

"All right," Leia said slowly as she reached to clasp his fingers. He pulled her easily to her feet, and she followed him to the shaak, which had gone back to its grazing.

Luke climbed onto its back and pulled Leia up behind him. They rode off across the meadow with Leia's arms about his waist, her cheek resting lightly against the back of his shoulder. She drew a breath and closed her eyes, content to let him guide the shaak, perfectly at peace--entirely safe, not only with him but with this place, these people--all of them. Her family.

------

Padme sighed happily as the twins road off on the shaak. She leaned back against Obi Wan and closed her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her. She loved the way her children were reacting to this place. Their simple joy in Varyinko allowed her to see things as she had when she was younger, before the cares and responsibilities of her life had begun to crowd in and make her forget these things. It had been a long time since any of her kids had been able to be so carefree. Ani really hadn't been this happy since he was a small boy. Leia, although her life on Alderaan had been pleasant, had chafed under the societal demands placed upon her as a princess, and from the beginning she had been groomed and mentored by Bail and Mon Mothma to take her place in both the Imperial Senate and the Alliance to Restore The Republic. She had often been troubled feelings of isolation that she couldn't understand, while her twin brother comprehended that loneliness all too well. Despite Ani's attempts to protect him, Luke's youth had been fraught with discontent, and now he was commanding half of Red Squadron. He seemed happier while leading Rogue Group, but Padme could feel that he wasn't entirely fulfilled.

"Ah, that don't look so hard," Han scoffed, drawing her from her thoughts.

"So, why don't you go ride one?" Isaly suggested.

"Leia's doin' fine riding around with Luke. I wouldn't want to mess it up for her," Han said mockingly.

"Are you jealous?" Isaly tilted her head.

"No!"

"You are!" she laughed. "You're jealous of the twins!"

"I am not! What do I care if Leia wants to ride a shaak with her brother?" Han insisted.

"Why don't you try inviting her for a nice walk by the lake later?" suggested Ani. "I'm sure you'll get it."

"Yeah, but the question is, what will he get?" laughed Isaly.

"Very funny," Han sighed.

"I thought so," Isaly retorted.

Padme rolled her eyes and looked up at Obi Wan, who smiled down at her. "Why don't _we_ go for a walk?"

"That sounds like a marvelous idea," she agreed.

They rose together and walked off across the meadow arm in arm. As had happened so often on this trip, neither felt the urge to speak. It was enough to be here, to feel the sun and the breeze, and breathe the scent of the flowers, to feel the brush of the tall grass against their legs and listen to the buzz of the insects with their children's laughter in the background.

"I don't think I've seen you this happy in a long time," he commented at length.

"I'm happy wherever you are," she replied sincerely.

"But you're happier here on Naboo," he said.

"Maybe a little," she admitted. "Mostly I'm just glad to see Sola and the girls. And that our kids get to see this world with us."

"Next time we'll have to take them to your parents' house," he suggested.

"Sola and Darred had to sell it," she sighed.

"Did they?"

"Mmm, after my mother died," she nodded, a touch of sadness tightening her throat as she spoke the words.

Obi Wan stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger. "We'll just have to buy it back."

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Absolutely. Of course, we'll have to re-do the kitchen. Make it bigger," he frowned thoughtfully.

"I love you," she smiled.

"I know," he winked.

"We'll have to have trestle tables in the kitchen," she said.

"Trestle tables?"

"Two of them. So we can put them across from each other and make a circle. That way everyone can see everyone else while we're eating or talking," she explained.

"Whatever you want," he agreed easily.

"How long do you think it'll be?" she asked.

"I don't know. There's really no way to know," he replied.

"Well," she decided, settling her head on his shoulder. "It'll all be here when the day comes."

"Yes, it will," he nodded. Then he fell silent for a few minutes, before asking, "You knew about Abso Bar and the _Tantive V, _didn't you?"

"Of course I did," she replied.

"Well, why didn't you write to me about it before?" he wanted to know.

"Jar Jar wanted to tell you himself. Call it a father's pride," she shrugged.

"I suppose I can understand that well enough," he chuckled.

"I'd be worried if you couldn't," she teased.

"So would I," he said easily.

"Have you talked to Ani?"

He shook his head. "Not yet, but I will before they leave."

She sighed softly. "I still wish they'd agree to let the twins stay with us too."

"Darling, would have left Luke and Leia at that age?" he asked.

"I guess not," she admitted. "But I have a different perspective now."

"I know. I do too," he said. "But it will be good for Ani to be instructed by Yoda. At the very least, Dagobah will be a place where he can regain what he's lost without distraction."

Padme still wasn't sure. For her, Obi Wan had always been the person most suited to teach their children. She had no dislike of Master Yoda; in fact, she respected the ancient Jedi greatly. Still, Obi Wan was a husband and father. He understood the challenges facing the new generation of Jedi in ways that she knew Yoda could not. She also knew that her husband had never seen himself the way that she did, and she didn't want to push the subject now.

"Maybe when Ani's away, Luke won't feel so much pressure to live up to his brother's example," she murmured, subtly shifting the discussion.

Obi Wan paused, turning to regard her with a look of surprise that was almost comical under the circumstances. "Is that what it's about?"

"Luke's always felt like he couldn't quite measure up. That he couldn't compete with Ani," she explained.

"But he doesn't need to!" Obi Wan sighed explosively.

"You can't explain that to him. It's not how he feels. Think about you and Anakin," she pointed out.

Obi Wan's brow furrowed heavily. "Padme, that is not a comparison I want to make with our sons."

"I didn't mean it that way," she said, hugging him tightly. "The boys will be all right."

Obi Wan didn't say anything right away. Then he slowly relaxed, returning the hug. "Yes, they will. They have you for a mother."


	116. Known and Unknown

This is dedicated to my mentor and friend, Eric, for lessons in stone skipping and many other things over the years that we travelled Potato Road.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Han was walking by the lake. Alone. His hands were stuffed in his pants pockets, and he moved with a slow, slump-shouldered gait that was entirely uncharacteristic for him. Leia stood on the terrace watching, her mind a swirl of conflicting thought and feeling. The peace she had found earlier with Luke seemed to have evaporated--as it always did, especially when Han was thrown into the equation. The sun was setting now, its crimson-gold light reflecting off the lake. Han's shadow grew longer as he walked, but he showed no sign of wanting to come in. She sighed, wondering if she should go out after him--but what would she say?

She sensed her mother's presence before she heard footsteps. Tensing, she held her breath and didn't turn as Padme's sandaled feet sounded behind her. Padme slipped across the terrace and silently wrapped her arms around Leia from behind. Unconsciously, she relaxed into the hug and closed her eyes.

"You see that island out there?" Padme asked, settling her chin on her daughter's shoulder. Leia slowly opened her eyes again and looked in the direction that her mother was pointing.

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

"That's where I used to take Ani when we came here while your father was away. We'd go swimming, and then we'd lie out on the sand and let it dry us. He'd make up stories about what kind of animals he saw in the shapes of the clouds, and then I'd teach him the names of the birds singing," she related. "It's the same place I used to come when I was in school."

"It's in your journal," Leia smiled. "Ani said something about wanting to take Isaly and the kids out there tomorrow, too."

"I didn't know if you'd read that far," Padme said.

"Sometimes I skip around," explained Leia.

"Did you read the part about the old man who lived on the island?" asked her mother.

"No, I don't think so," Leia shook her head.

"He was very old, but he was still a wonderful artist. He used to make glass out of sand--and vases and necklaces out of the glass. They were magical," Padme told her.

"Magical?"

"You could look into the glass and see the water. The way it ripples and moves. It looked so real, but it wasn't," explained Padme.

"There are times I feel that way about my life," Leia confessed.

"That it isn't real?"

"I'm not sure what's real," she sighed.

Padme squeezed her tighter. "This is real. Right here. You and I. This place. This is the life you were born to, Leia."

"I'm glad we came here," Leia said softly. "I can see why you and Dad think of it as home. And I'm glad that we got to meet Aunt Sola and Ryoo. I feel more…grounded, now."

"Good," Padme replied. "Though it looks like someone else is feeling a little left out now."

"Han likes being left out," she sighed.

"Leia!"

"He's a loner. Well, except for Chewie," she amended.

"That might change if he felt a little more welcome," Padme said pointedly.

"What? You and the boys bend over backwards to make him welcome!" she scoffed.

"It's your welcome he wants. Why didn't you go for a walk with him when he asked you? What are you afraid of?"

She tensed. "I'm not afraid."

"Then go and talk to him," Padme prompted.

"I--wouldn't know what to say," Leia replied.

"Then let him talk," suggested Padme.

Leia didn't move for a few seconds. She drew a breath, trying to gather her thoughts, and slowly nodded, slipping out of her mother's embrace.

"All right," she said.

Her heart beat faster as soon as she spoke the words, but she ignored it, walking calmly off the terrace and down the steps. She was conscious of Padme watching above, but she wasn't sure whether that made her more or less nervous as she started toward Han. By the time she reached him, she was aware of very little besides her own dry mouth and sweaty palms.

_All right, what is my problem anyway?_ she asked herself.

Han stopped walking as she approached. He turned toward her briefly, then looked back at the lake. Leia crossed her arms and stepped up beside him.

"Hi," she said awkwardly.

"Change your mind?"

"About what?"

"Comin' for a walk with me?" he prompted.

"You only asked to prove a point to Ani," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"That ain't why I asked," Han said, stooping suddenly to pick a pebble off the sand.

"Isn't it?" she asked skeptically.

"No," he said flatly, emphasizing the statement by pivoting to send the stone in his hand skipping across the lake. "I don't give a damn what your brothers think."

Leia felt her face flush and stared down at the sand by her feet, unsure of how to react. She quickly recovered, though, and glared up at him in angry defiance. He ignored the look, concentrating on gathering up a large handful of pebbles from the beach around them. She opened mouth to demand what his reason had been, but abruptly realized that she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She snapped her mouth closed again, and Han smirked as he let loose another pebble. This one skipped at least half-way across the lake before it sank.

"How do you do that?" Leia asked.

"What?" asked Han, hurling a third stone.

"That," she gestured.

"This?" he raised his eyebrows and held out his cupped palm toward her, offering the pebbles.

She nodded. "Why don't they sink?"

"It's the way you throw 'em," he explained.

"Show me?"

He shrugged with a faint air of self-consciousness. Then he picked one of the stones out of his hand and held it up to her. Tentatively, she took a step closer.

"First you gotta find the right rock," he said. "It hasta be pretty smooth or it won't skip right. Not too big, either," he said.

She nodded. Han handed her the pebble and took another one, waiting until she had finished studying it before he continued. Once she had turned her attention back to him, he curled his right index finger around the stone and tucked the finger behind his thumb.

"Now make a hook with your finger and stick the rock in there like this," he instructed.

"Okay," Leia bit her lip in concentration. After the Jedi training she had received from her father, this seemed as though it should have been a simple task. Even so, it took several very long seconds of fumbling before she actually managed to do what Han had done so naturally.

She expected him to laugh, but he was surprisingly solemn under the circumstances. Once she had actually managed to curl her finger around the pebble without dropping it, he turned his wrist inward toward his chest and waited for her to mimic the motion. Blushing and feeling faintly ridiculous, she did so.

"When you throw it, you gotta move your wrist out toward the water and flick your finger at the same time. That way, the rock kinda spins off your finger. It's the spinning that keeps it on the surface instead of letting it sink," he explained, giving a quick demonstration.

Leia nodded in understanding. Taking a gulp of air, she let the stone in her hand fly. Then she and Han watched as it plunked unceremoniously into the lake without a single bounce. She stared. Han planted his hand thoughtfully on his cheek.

"Hmm."

"Hmm, what?" she asked.

"Didn't use the Force, didja?"

"No."

"Didn't think so," he said with a smirk.

"C'mon, give me another one," she urged.

"This time put your whole body into it," he advised.

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"Here," he said, offering her another rock.

She took it, and he stuffed the rest in his pocket. Then he stepped up behind her, so close that they were nearly touching. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck and froze.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously.

"Relax."

"What are you _doing?_" she demanded, glaring up at him. His eyes made her breath catch, but she forced herself not to look away.

"I'm gonna show you how. Relax," he repeated.

Reluctantly, she allowed her body to relax against his. He didn't move or try anything, so she busied herself with positioning the new stone correctly and tried to ignore her pulse-rate. He waited until she had it ready, then gently slid his hands onto her wrists.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

"Move with me," he instructed, pivoting first away from, then toward the lake, guiding her arm with his hand. "Let it go--now!"

This time, the stone bounded across the surface of the lake. Wide-eyed, Leia stared in open disbelief as it skipped twice--three times--four, and kept going, almost reaching the distance of Han's earlier throws before finally dropping under the surface. Han laughed in satisfaction, and she fought a shiver at the subtle vibration of his chest against her back. Her instinct was to pull away, but before she could actually move, he grinned down at her.

"Nice throw, Your Worship."

"Stop calling me that," she said shakily.

Han's smile faded, his eyes suddenly growing dark and intense as he lowered his head toward hers. "Leia."

She swallowed, "Han."

"What?" he whispered, still moving slowly and steadily toward her mouth. She could feel his breath against her lips now, almost taste him.

"My mother's up there," she protested.

"Too bad…"

------

Obi Wan walked onto the terrace with a drink in each hand. Stepping up behind Padme, he handed one over her shoulder. She reached up to take it, and he moved to stand beside her, following her gaze out toward the lake. Then, he frowned, taking a long, thoughtful sip.

"How did you get her to go down there?" he asked.

"I asked her what she was afraid of," she replied.

"Very good, darling. Very good," he said with an amused smile.

"I'm a politician, my love," she laughed.

"So is she," he pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm also her mother," Padme winked.

"It's good thing," Obi Wan said. "What are they doing down there?"

"Looks like skipping stones," she told him.

"That's not something I would've expected from Han," he commented.

"Didn't you tell me recently that Han was not a man to be underestimated?" she asked with a wink.

"That I did," he nodded. "I suppose I ought to take my own advice."

"He seems to be pretty good at it, too," she observed.

"He's usually good at anything he sets his mind to do," Obi Wan said.

"Look," Padme directed his attention toward the couple at the lake.

A slow smirk crossed Obi Wan's face and he turned to his wife. "It took them long enough, didn't it?"


	117. First Steps

Even putting all other work on hold, it was going to at least a week for Padme's tailor to be finished with all the work on the Kenobis' new wardrobe. Meanwhile, they planned to make the most of their time at Varyinko. Ani and Isaly, though, had no need of elaborate Naboo-styled clothing, and by their third day at the retreat, Ani was beginning to feel pulled toward Dagobah. Isaly suggested that they have one final talk with Shmi.

They found her in the dining room with Chewie, who was apparently attempting to teach her to play holochess. Realizing why her parents were looking for her, the Wookiee quickly told her that they would continue the game later and left. Shmi scowled after him, muttering something about sore losers.

"I'm sure you'll have time to beat Chewie later, sweetheart," Isaly promised as she and Ani slid into chairs on either side of their daughter.

"Okay," she sighed heavily.

"Right now, we have something to talk to you about," Isaly continued.

"What?" Shmi asked with a curious smile.

"You know that Mommy and Daddy are leaving for Dagobah tonight," Isaly began.

"Uh huh," Shmi nodded gravely.

"How does that make you feel?" asked Ani, lightly brushing his fingers through her hair.

She frowned deeply and didn't answer right away. Despite a growing tightness in her throat, Isaly very nearly laughed. The expression was so unmistakably Kenobi that even under these circumstances, she had to see the humor in it.

"Sad," Shmi decided after a few moments.

"It makes us sad, too," Ani said quietly.

"You have to go?" asked Shmi.

"Master Yoda has things to teach me," her father nodded.

"But," Isaly spoke up. "If you really want to, you can come with us."

"I thought it was better for me with Grandma and Grandpa," she tilted her head.

"We thought it would be. There will be a lot of work on Dagobah, and you'd probably miss Han and Grandma and Grandpa and your aunt and uncle. But we realized that you're getting to be a big girl now, so we decided that you should have the choice to stay with your grandparents or to come with us," Isaly explained.

Shmi frowned again. She planted her chin in her hands and pursed her lips in thought. Both of her parents hid amused smiles and waited.

"I miss Daddy when he was on Yavin with Grandpa," she said at length.

"I missed you too, Little One," Ani smiled.

"You have no kids to keep you company there no more," she said pensively.

"No, we didn't," Ani agreed.

"If I leave, Grandma and Grandpa have no kids with them no more," she said.

"That's true," Isaly nodded. "But Grandma and Grandpa have lots of other people here. You don't have to stay for them. Only if you want to."

"Other people ain't me. Grandma and Grandpa need me. Han too," Shmi told them.

Isaly swallowed against both the onset of tears and the reflexive urge to correct the use of the word ain't. "Are you sure, Little One? Once we're gone, you won't be able to change your mind."

Shmi looked down at the table, considering the matter again for several minutes. Then, slowly, she looked up at her mother with glistening eyes and nodded.

"I'm sure, Mommy."

------

Ani and his father went for a walk by the lake that afternoon. The day was bright and sunny, as all their time here had been so far. A light breeze blew in off the water, ruffling their hair, but it was warm enough not to chill them. They walked for more than an hour in silence, neither one in any hurry to begin the discussion they had come to have. It was a comfortable and familiar silence, one they both enjoyed, but the mood was somber, and Ani's mind strayed inevitably toward another walk on the beach.

"I remember the last time we walked here," he said softly.

"Do you?" Obi Wan didn't quite sound surprised.

"I've never forgotten any moment the three of us spent together," replied Ani.

Obi Wan accepted that with a slow nod. He smiled faintly, then paused and turned toward the rippling lake. Ani stopped beside him, waiting.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tonight. After dinner," he said.

Obi Wan nodded again, his gaze moving downward toward the weapons now clipped to either side of his son's belt. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about before you left."

"I thought there would be," Ani crouched as he spoke, idly doodling in the wet sand with his index finger.

"And?"

"Didn't you use two sabers against Asajj Ventress during the Clone Wars?" Ani tilted his head to look up at his father.

"From time to time, yes. I hadn't completely Mastered Soresu back then. My Jar'Kai was a tactic, not a reliance on two weapons as a combat discipline."

"Which is also true of most Jedi," Ani said.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Vader won't expect it. Especially since I don't intend to use pure Jar'Kai," Ani said. What he had constructed on Yavin 4 were not a typical matched set of Jar'Kai lightsabers. The hilts were identical, modeled on the weapon his father still carried. The blades, however, were different colors, which was in itself a marked departure from Jedi tradition, where the color of the focusing crystal was chosen with specific intent to be reflective of the Jedi who constructed the weapon. One of them was green, like the one which Anakin Skywalker had returned to him in his initial vision; the other was blue, like the ones that both Obi Wan and Anakin had once wielded in defense of the Galactic Republic. They were as close as Ani could get to the two weapons that he had carried in his visions, and they were more. Unlike anything he had seen through the Force, these weapons had interlocking hilts so that they could also be used as a single weapon--either dual-bladed or as a conventional lightsaber with an extended hilt.

"I don't like it, Anakin. It's too aggressive," Obi Wan said bluntly.

"I knew you'd say that," Ani replied. Lightstaffs were commonly frowned upon by Jedi of Obi Wan's generation for just the reason that he had cited. Beyond that, Ani knew that his father still associated that both dual-bladed lightsabers and the Juyo style of combat with General Grievous and the Sith Lord who killed Qui-Gon.

"Is that why you didn't ask my opinion?" Obi Wan asked.

Ani shook his head. "I didn't want to worry you."

"It worries me that you did something like this knowing I wouldn't approve," Obi Wan told him.

"Did you ask Qui-Gon's opinion of every decision you made?" Ani asked.

"No, I suppose not. But you are not me, and I am not Qui-Gon," Obi Wan said.

"No, I'm not you. I'm very much like you, Dad, but I'm not you," Ani replied.

"I don't expect you to be," Obi Wan said. "I thought that we valued one another's opinions and viewpoints."

"Of course I value your opinion. You are my Master. But I knew I had to make them."

"Had to?"

"I saw them."

"In a vision," Obi Wan frowned.

"Yes."

"Ani, the visions don't determine the future. You do. You know that," Obi Wan shook his head.

"Yes, I do," Ani said frankly as he straightened.

"Then I think I'm confused," said his father.

"Dad, you are a consummate master of Soresu. I am not," Ani reminded him.

"You will be, in time," Obi Wan assured him.

"That's exactly what Vader and the Emperor expect. They know you trained me. They'll expect me to keep emulating you, just as I did on the Death Star, and Vader knows your style as well or better than you do. I have to do something else--and if Vader anticipates that at all, he'll expect Anakin Skywalker's Djem So. We both know that I will never be able to beat Vader in his own Form," Ani explained. "I have to face him again, and if I'm going to be able to save Uncle Anakin, I have to survive the battle. The only way to survive a duel with Vader is to win."

"Yes, but the weakness of Jar'Kai is that a bigger, more powerful opponent can gain the offensive and simply wear you down. How do you expect to use it effectively against Darth Vader?" asked Obi Wan.

"Vader may be bigger, but he isn't physically stronger than me, not anymore. Once I've really learned to use my arms and legs, I'll be faster than he is, and I'll have the advantage in terms of reflexes and agility. I'm going to turn my weakness into an advantage. If it's not enough, he still won't be prepared for the lightstaff."

"You've never had any training in either Juyo or Jar'Kai," Obi Wan pointed out.

"I have the basic principles of Jar'Kai from you and Qui-Gon. I'm going to have to essentially re-learn lightsaber combat anyway. What Leia and I have been doing are little more than Form I exercises. There's no better time for me to learn a new discipline. And Master Windu used Juyo as the basis for his Vaapad. He's already agreed to instruct me on Dagobah," Ani said.

Obi Wan crossed his arms. "You didn't tell me this, either."

"I'm sorry. It was rather hard to tell you something when I couldn't explain my reasoning," Ani said softly.

Obi Wan sighed. "And were you going to tell me at all?"

"Yes, Dad!"

"When?"

"Today. If you hadn't asked me to come out here, I was going to ask you," Ani replied, offended by the very notion that he would have gone off without explaining his plans to his father.

"All right, let's not argue. I'm sorry I asked that," Obi Wan said.

"Well, I guess it was a fair question under the circumstances," admitted Ani.

"Son, you are treading dangerous ground here," warned Obi Wan. "The Emperor will use your aggressive feelings against you."

"That's why I'm going to Master Yoda. I recognize my vulnerabilities. I'm trying to do something about them," Ani said.

"Well, I'm still not certain that you're going about it the right way," Obi Wan frowned.

"I know you're not," Ani sighed.

Obi Wan gave a brief but genuine smile. "It's still your decision. It always has been."

Ani inclined his head respectfully, then laid both of his hands on Obi Wan's shoulders. "Master. It's been my honor to be your Apprentice. I've wanted nothing more than to learn all that you have to teach me and to stand at your side all these years. Everything I know, everything I believe about what it means to be a Jedi and a man, I have learned from you. I won't forget those lessons. But now I have to find my own way."

"You will find your way, Ani," Obi Wan nodded. "Only be sure that what you are looking for is not something you already have."

"Yes, Master."

"You have been my joy from the moment I first felt you in your mother's womb. Teaching you the ways of the Force has been an honor. Being your father has been a privilege. Save Anakin if you can, but don't sacrifice all that you are in the process. Be careful of Palpatine, son. Be wary of Vader, and be mindful of your own feelings."

"I _will._ I promise you," Ani nodded.

"May the Force be with you, Anakin."

"May the Force be with you, Dad. Always."


	118. Appointments

For Isaly, Dagobah was cold. Worse than that, it was damp. Everything was wet, including the air, which was oppressively laden with moisture. She guessed that most of the humans she had met since leaving Tatooine would have found the swamp uncomfortably hot, but growing up on a desert world, her first thought was to wrap her sons in blankets before they set out to find the elusive Master Yoda.

Mud was a new experience for her as well. Though Ani had been able to find ground solid enough to land on, they found themselves squelching through thick, oozing brown mud as soon as their feet left the boarding ramp. Within a few feet, a misstep sent her right leg sinking into the stuff up to the calf. Ani grabbed her arm to keep her from toppling over, and she suddenly felt very grateful to Padme for suggesting that they bring along carriers for the twins which could be worn on their backs. Not that she had any hope that such things would keep them clean, but if she was going to fall, she would much rather do so with Obi-Too on her back than in her arms.

"Do you have any idea where he is?" she asked Ani, pushing her hair back from her forehead as they surveyed the gloomy surroundings.

"This way," said Ani decisively, turning to the left.

"You don't have a clue, do you?" Isaly tilted her head.

"Not really."

"I didn't think so," she shook her head, but followed him in that direction anyway.

"He's not far," Ani told her reassuringly.

"How do you know _that?_"

"Isaly, I'm a Jedi," he reminded her.

"So, you know he's not far, but you don't know _where_ he is?" she arched an eyebrow.

"Give me a break, will you? I haven't been around Yoda since I was four," he sighed.

She laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The tension she felt there would have been telling enough, even if she couldn't sense his uneasiness. For the first time, he was beginning to doubt himself. He had always had the assurance of Obi Wan and Qui-Gon to guide him. Now, Obi Wan was far away on Naboo, and Qui-Gon was strangely silent, apparently feeling that this was a journey that Ani had to make without a guide. He was leading his wife and infant sons on a quest to a strange world in search of someone that no one had seen in almost twenty years. It would have been one thing for him to come here alone. Bringing his family added an entirely new level of responsibility to the affair.

"I'm sure we'll find him soon, and--" she broke off as he tensed further. "What?"

Rustling in the bushes nearby drew her attention before he could answer. She took a step back, then her eyes went wide as tiny, strange-looking green creature with long, comical ears came tapping its way out of the brush, leaning heavily on a walking-stick as it moved. Its appearance alone was not startling; Isaly had seen more than her share of non-humans while growing up in Watto's shop. What surprised her was its clothing--miniature robes which were other identical to Obi Wan's.

Ani stepped forward, offering a bow. "Master Yoda. We were looking for you."

"Hmmph. Late you are, Padawan. By ten years!" Yoda said.

"I…apologize for keeping you waiting, Master," Ani said uncomfortably. Isaly resisted the urge to rub her eyes with her fingers.

"Others you bring with you. Who are they?" asked the Master.

Ani smiled. "This is my wife, Isaly. And our sons, Obi-Wan and Anakin."

"It's an honor, Master Yoda," Isaly said.

Yoda leaned on his cane, peering back at her steadily. "Honored are you?"

"My father-in-law speaks highly of you, Master," she smiled.

"Mmm. A trial of being old, this is. Never can anyone meet Yoda when they meet him. Always his name have they heard. Change your mind, you soon may, young Isaly. Come. Come," Yoda directed.

He turned back the way he had come, tottering off through the bushes. Isaly shot her husband an uncertain look. His expression was every bit as perplexed as she felt at the greeting they had just received. Both of them had rather expected to have to explain toYoda that Isaly and the twins were going to be staying on Dagobah while Ani was in training. The Master had seemed to accept that without question. Ani shrugged and gestured after Yoda, then slipped his hand into Isaly's as they followed him. The ancient Jedi was muttering to himself as he walked, and she wasn't sure whether to laugh or frown at his comments.

"Enough I had of Obi Wan and Anakin the first time!" he was grumbling.

-----

Ani realized that they were going to have a problem as soon as they reached Yoda's house. The small dwelling was adequate for the Jedi Master, and probably would have accommodated a student comfortably enough if Ani had come alone. He had serious doubts, however, about whether the family would be comfortable here for an extended time, especially given the rate at which the twins were growing. Isaly saw the same difficulty, and both of them paused outside the low doorway. Yoda turned questioningly back toward them.

"Master, are we all going to fit in there?" Isaly asked.

"Another suggestion you have?" inquired Yoda.

"Well…no. But we wouldn't want to be an imposition on you. The boys tend to need a lot of room," she frowned.

"Thought of that before you should have," Yoda declared.

"Yes, Master," Ani said quickly, realizing that it would probably do no good to point out that there was no way they could have known what sort of living conditions they would find on Dagobah when they arrived. If he had tried to make that argument, Yoda would probably have said something to indicate that Ani should have come to him when he was thirteen as he had been supposed to. Isaly gave him a pointed look.

"Well," he scratched the back of his neck. "I guess we could stay on the ship for a while and I could build us a house."

"What…?" she stared.

"It shouldn't me that long," he said. Han had cashed in on a favor owed to him by an old smuggling contact in order to secure them the loan of a rather outdated freighter for the trip to Dagobah. Han's friend had supposedly had a recent upturn in business and no longer needed the ship for active duty, which wasn't hard to believe considering how sluggish it was and how often various minor malfunctions had cropped up on the way here. Ani had anticipated that much, but given that most of his personal assets were currently frozen on Tatooine, he had been more than willing to accept the arrangement. It had been adequate to their immediate needs, though he had not foreseen the necessity of living on it. He realized that it was neither roomy nor particularly comfortable, but it would be no more cramped than Yoda's house would be with five people in it.

"Ani…"

"Well, I don't know what else to do," he sighed.

"All right," she nodded.

Yoda's huge eyes had grown even larger. He stared at the young couple in disbelief. "Built a house before, have you?"

"No…" Ani admitted.

"Interesting, this will be," said Yoda slowly. Then he turned and walked inside without another word. Isaly turned to her husband with a raised eyebrow.

"Is he always this cranky?"

"I don't know," replied Ani. "He was a lot nicer when I was four."

"Maybe that's how he lures potential victims in and convinces them they want to be his Padawans," she suggested.

"Well, in the old Order, hopefuls had no choice," Ani frowned.

"I can see why," Isaly shook her head.

"Coming, are you?" Yoda's voice floated out to them.

"Apparently he doesn't like to be kept waiting," remarked Isaly.

"I noticed."

-----

Interesting was not the word that Isaly would have used to describe Ani's house-building efforts. Their two months or so on Dagobah saw him receive no Jedi training whatsoever. She made no progress with her planned study of medicine either, since both of them spent every day from first light until it was too dark to see laboring to turn the mud, stone, trees and moss that Dagobah had to offer them into a livable dwelling without anything approximating the typical tools which would normally have been used to accomplish such a task. Ani used the Force to help as much as he could, but manipulating the energy field was as taxing in its own way as the intensive physical labor of building.

Yoda came by to watch for a while each day, either leaning on his cane or sitting crosslegged on the stump of a tree that seemed to be his favorite location. Some days he stayed for an hour or two, then wandered off to do whatever it was that he had done for the last two decades alone on this world. Other days, he arrived at dawn and remained until the couple called it quits after sunset. In either case, he would occasionally offer a word of advice or warning, and he _did_ seem rather fond of the twins, despite his initial response to their names. At least insofar as having someone to keep an eye on them while their parents were working, Isaly was glad of the Master's presence.

She knew, though, that Ani was beginning to grow frustrated with Yoda's lack of empathy, as well as the continued absence of both Qui-Gon and Mace Windu. He felt rather abandoned by Qui-Gon, who up until recently had been a constant presence in his life, and he had started to wonder whether Master Windu would put in an appearance when the time came for him to begin his training in Juyo. Further, while he knew that Yoda was under no obligation to help them, it irked him that the being who was supposed to be the oldest and wisest of the Jedi couldn't be bothered to get off his stump and come lend a hand.

All of this came to a head the day that he fell through the roof. Isaly, who had been on the ground outside at the time, ran through the front door and found him flat on his back staring up through the hole he had just made.

"Ani! Are you all right?" she cried frantically.

He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and gave his head a shake as if to clear it. "Fine. Used the Force to break my fall. I guess I found the weak spot."

"I guess you did," she sighed, running her hand over her face. Then she walked over to him, offering him a hand back to his feet.

"Thanks," he said as he pulled himself up again.

"You're welcome," she shook her head, peering up at the hole. "Nice job."

He rolled his eyes. "C'mon."

"Where?" she asked, but he was already on his way back out the door.

He stopped just outside the door and crossed his arms, glaring over at Yoda, who was currently playing a three-way game of patty-cake with Obi-Too and Junior. Isaly touched his shoulder in a gesture that was at once a caution and a show of sympathy. He let the tension flow from his frame and dropped his arms, but still walked purposely over to the Jedi and his children.

"Master," he said pointedly. "I realize that this was my idea, but since you are sitting here, a little help once in a while would be nice."

"Supervising, I am!"

"Well, we might be done a bit sooner and with fewer bruises to show for it if you'd help out instead of supervising," Ani sighed wearily.

Yoda continued his game, unconcerned. "Haste a proper home will not build here. The Jedi Way, this is not."

Ani's shoulders slumped and he trudged back to the half-finished house. "Yes, Master," he mumbled mechanically.

Isaly's eyes narrowed. Ani may have been required by some Jedi principle to put up with whatever abuse the old Master felt inclined to dish out but she was not. She strode over to Yoda's stump and crouched down so that she would have been on eye level with him if he had bothered to look at her.

"I thought you wanted to teach my husband," she said.

"Mmm. Mmm. A long time have I waited to teach this one," he agreed.

"Then when are you planning on doing something besides sitting here playing with his children?" she wanted to know.

Yoda slowly looked back at her, his expression shifting subtly. "When a place to live you have, train Anakin I will."

Isaly shook her head, muttering, "In that case we're going to be here forever."

"Perhaps next time _on time_ he will be," Yoda replied without sympathy.

"Come on--can't you teach him while we're doing this?" she sighed.

Yoda's eyes narrowed to slits and his voice lowered gravely. "Teaching him, I already am."


	119. Hidden Within

The night that the twins turned one year old, the house was complete. What little it had in the way of furniture was scavenged out of the freighter that had brought the Kenobis to Dagobah. It was far from even the level of comfort that the family had known on Tatooine, but it would be warm and dry.

Ani and Isaly were simply happy to be able to get their children out of the cramped confines of the ship. They had planned to celebrate the occasion the following day, since both of them had been working to the point of exhaustion for months and dropped to sleep as soon as the twins did that night. Yoda, however, had other ideas.

There was no locking mechanism on the front door, so the Master simply let himself in the following morning before the sun had even risen. Ani and Isaly were asleep atop a blanket on their bedroom floor and received a rude awakening as Yoda brought his gimmer stick down hard on Ani's shoulder.

"Wake up!"

Both of them jolted awake, and Isaly moved instinctively to shield her husband. Ani pushed himself upright, murmuring some half-coherent reassurance as he shook his hair out of his face. Yoda stood glaring impatiently down at them.

"Come. Training we will begin," he said.

Ani blinked blearily. As hard a taskmaster as Owen Lars had often been, even he would have allowed a day of rest after more than two months of intensive physical labor.

"You've got to be kidding me," he mumbled.

"Kidding? Look like a joke, does this?" Yoda demanded.

"Master Yoda, we've been building this house for months. My entire body aches," Ani sighed.

"Ache, do you? Ache more you will if you do not--get--up!" he punctuated the last two words with more smacks about Ani's head and shoulders.

"All right, all right!" Raising his arms to protect himself, the Knight scrambled off the floor. Once on his feet, he practically ran out of range of the stick, which Yoda had continued using to beat him until he was actually standing. Gaping, Isaly followed him up. He stilled a momentary urge to duck behind her for protection and cautiously moved toward Yoda again.

The tiny terror spun and jabbed his stick toward the open doorway. "Out! Out with you!"

Ani shot an apologetic look at his wife and hurried to obey. Once outside, he realized that Yoda wasn't behind him. He frowned, half turning to look back toward the house. Yoda came strolling out a few moments later, leaning on the stick with a casual air that belied the use he had just made of it.

Thus began Anakin Kenobi's training under Master Yoda. After the initial wake-up call, Ani learned to be awake long before his new Master came looking for him. In fact, most days he was waiting in the swamp when Yoda came looking. This pleased the venerable old Jedi, as did Ani's willingness to accept Yoda's instruction and the pace he set without question. Ani had always been more than diligent in his pursuit of the Jedi arts, and this did not change under Yoda's tutelage. Thanks to Owen Lars, he was also well used to gruff and demanding mentors. Once he understood what it was that the Master expected of him and how their teacher-student relationship would differ from the ones he had shared with Obi Wan and Owen, it was a relatively simple matter for him to adjust his own expectations and attitudes.

By allowing him and Isaly to build the house themselves, Yoda set the tone for his instruction of Ani. In their own ways, both Obi Wan and Owen had treated him as a partner from a very young age. Owen had expected him to work the farm beside him and taught him largely through shared physical effort. Obi Wan's manner of teaching him the Jedi Arts had been its own kind of joint undertaking. He had been actively trying to correct things which he saw as mistakes in the way he had trained Anakin Skywalker. Further, he was still discovering for himself what it meant to be both a family man and a Jedi Knight. He and Ani were of similar temperaments, and his teaching had been a process of mutual growth. Obi Wan had encouraged him to develop and express his own opinions, and when the twins were old enough to learn, he had relied on Ani to help him teach them.

Yoda, however, had no interest in a partner, and did not see Ani in any way as his equal. For his part, Ani could easily see that the Master was correct. He had been teaching Jedi for hundreds of years. With the notable exception of Anakin Skywalker, there wasn't a single Jedi who had not been instructed at least once by Yoda in generations. To him, Ani really was no more than a Padawan--a boy playing at being something which Yoda had already been for centuries.

Despite the rather obvious fact that he did not like to be kept waiting, Yoda possessed phenomenal patience. For several weeks, they did little more than sit facing one another in the swamp, Ani shivering in the mud--which was as cold to him as it was to Isaly--while Yoda guided the Knight's meditation from atop his favorite tree-stump.

The first thing Ani discovered was exactly what Yoda had meant when he told Isaly that he was already teaching. Long ago, he had learned to love the land as a moisture farmer on the harsh desert planet of Tatooine. There, each day was a precarious struggle, and in that battle for survival, he had gained a new perspective on the Jedi Order's reverence for life. By contrast, the Dagobah swamp was teeming with living creatures of all sorts. It was so vibrant and strong in the Force that he often felt overwhelmed by it. Over the family's first few months on the planet, he developed a deep affinity for the place which was very much like his relationship with the desert of his adoptive homeworld, and yet quite different.

Building the house made it necessary for him to acquaint himself quite literally with the land on this world. Providing for the family required both him and Isaly to learn to recognize edible vegetation, and to trap and hunt for the table. Doing all of this had opened him to the Force in a new way, laying an unexpected groundwork for the task that he had come here to accomplish.

A connection had already existed in the Force between his body and this place, just as all things in the galaxy were bound by Force energy. That union had been strengthened by the work he had been doing, and under Yoda's guidance, he saw that it had come to be strongest centering around his hands, arms, and legs, which had done most of the actual labor. By focusing on that link, he was able to feel the mechnos in a way that he hadn't been able to before. From there, he knew that in simply shifting his perspective, turning inward, he would be able to achieve a complete synergy between his body and the machines.

The process was simple, but it was not easy. He had never had to turn his mind so far inward, nor become so acutely aware of the workings of his own muscle, nerve, and bone. He knew enough of the technology upon which his limbs were built to make minor physical or electronic adjustments, but he had never explored the mechnos like this, searching for and attuning minute traces of Force energy within metal, wire, and electronic components. Though he was familiar with the Jedi principles of passive meditation, the intensive effort of maintaining this level of concentration was taxing. Yoda had to consistently admonish him not to force the process, not to rush but to make himself a conduit for the Force to flow freely.

Dagobah was constantly wet and misty, but on days when it really rained, Yoda allowed them to conduct their training indoors. He seemed to have little interest in comfort, though. Rather than meditate in his house, which was at least furnished and had such things as cushions, he preferred to sit in the middle of the Kenobis' kitchen floor.

Isaly was annoyed by their presence, but her attitude softened somewhat once she saw that Yoda had no objection to the boys watching them. The Master's interest in her children was more than welcome as it allowed her a bit more freedom to focus on her own studies, which she usually had to accomplish while juggling household responsibilities and, feeding, changing, playing with, or generally running after the twins. This, more than anything else, served to bridge the gap that had developed between her and Yoda when the family had first arrived.

Obi-Too and Junior would mimic their father's posture on either side of Yoda, exhibiting an uncanny balance for children so young. Yoda would talk quietly to them, explaining what they were doing in simple terms, though his attention to Ani's meditation never slackened. How much the boys grasped was debatable, but they enjoyed Yoda's company in much the same way that their father had as a child. His manner was unfalteringly kind with them, and his presence was warm and calming, even on Junior, who tended to be more rambunctious than his brother. After a while, they would wander off to play, but as long as Yoda was there, they were uncharacteristically quiet and well behaved.

------

It was on one such rainy day that Yoda told his apprentice that the next phase of his training would soon begin. Mace and Qui-Gon were watching, but neither of them had revealed themselves to Ani. Qui-Gon was troubled by this, of course, but the Force Spirits had discussed the matter with Yoda and all three were agreed.

"Think yourself ready, do you?" asked Yoda.

"No," Ani shook his head, well aware that there was still a problem which had to be addressed.

"No," agreed the Master. "Much anger there still is in you. Hatred. Warned you, I did."

"Master Yoda, I was four years old!" Ani's voice broke.

"Old enough you were to understand!" Yoda jabbed a finger at him. "To know what was at stake. Saw the Dark Side you did. In the temple!"

Ani hung his head, shoulders slumping in defeated acknowledgement. "Yes, Master."

"Hid this from your father, did you?" asked Yoda.

"I showed him the truth after the Death Star," Ani said. "I wanted him to understand why I had to come to you now."

"Unfortunate this is. Helped you he could have once," Yoda murmured.

Ani closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Master, what must I do?"

"Face this darkness you must," said Yoda. He planted his gimmer stick in the dirt and hauled himself to his feet, gesturing through the door into the dark swamp. "Out there."

Slowly, Ani nodded in agreement and rose. Sensing a marked emotional shift in the room, Obi-Too and Junior whimpered and ran to Isaly, who was watching from the doorway with a growing frown. She stooped to pick them up, murmuring wordless comfort to them as they watched Yoda tap his way out of the house. Ani stood rigid, unmoving.

"Ani?" she asked uncertainly.

"It's all right," he said distantly, moving toward the door. He paused there to pick up his cloak from the wooden peg where it hung waiting, and Isaly stepped forward.

"No, it isn't. Anakin, what's going on? What was he talking about? What _darkness?"_ she shook her head. "I know you better than anyone. There is no evil in you!"

"Yes, there is," he replied hollowly.

"What?" she demanded. "Ani, _look at me!"_

He spun suddenly, his eyes alive with such intense fury that she gasped, instinctively stepping back. He grit his teeth, struggling to give voice to words that he had fought against for his entire life. His face became a mask of pain and rage, and Qui-Gon looked steadily and silently into it, resisting the urge to turn away.

"I hate Palpatine, Isaly. _I hate him!_ And if I could kill him now, I would!"


	120. Connections

Sorry for the brief delay, guys. Ani's vision is giving me a headache even though the whole thing has been planned for months. I hate fight scenes! So, I decided to do this now instead, having woken up with 5AM inspiration.

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Leia heard Han walk back into the lounge, but she didn't open her eyes. Though she was aware of him moving around the ship and conscious of Chewie and Shmi still in the cockpit, her focus was elsewhere. She stretched both inward and outward along a bond that she had begun to feel over the past year but which she had spent far too little time exploring. She now had only vague feelings of foreboding and pain to guide her, a pervading sense of heaviness which had been growing progressively worse all day. Han lowered himself onto the couch beside her and curled his arm around her shoulders. Reflexively, she leaned into him, and after a few more moments she gave a soft sigh of regret and allowed her eyes to open.

He pressed his lips against her temple. "What's going on?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. I think something's wrong on Dagobah."

"The kid don't sense anything," he said.

"Han, she's four," Leia replied.

"So? She knew when he was in trouble the last time on Yavin," he pointed out.

Leia raised her eyebrows, considering that. He had a point. Besides, she supposed that Ani hadn't gone to Dagobah for a vacation; he was bound to experience some unpleasantness under Master Yoda's instruction. Leia had already known a fair amount during her own Jedi training, and Obi Wan was a far kinder mentor than Yoda was reputed to be--at least from what her father had shared about his own time at the temple.

"Could you reach my father?" she asked.

"No, your mother said that he and your…uh…other father weren't gonna be back for another couple of days," he shook his head.

She smiled slightly at his stumble. Leia's real relationship to the Kenobis was no longer a secret, at least among their friends and the tight circle of Alliance High Command. It also wasn't largely advertised, since her status as Princess of Alderaan made her a unique and highly recognizable symbol of the Rebellion. She was already a highly visible target, as was Padme, since the Empire had recently confirmed that she was, in fact alive. Publicly exploiting their mother-daughter relationship would only have increased the Emperor's interest in killing them, especially since he would assume that Obi Wan was now training both her and Luke in the Jedi Way. If anyone had asked, she would have called herself the daughter of Padme and Obi Wan Kenobi quite readily now--but as far as most of the galaxy was concerned, she was still Leia Organa, and she was glad to be. She belonged to Alderaan and its people--to Bail, who loved and needed her now--as much as to her family.

"Well, I guess if there was anything really wrong with Ani, he'd know before I would," she admitted.

"You wanna turn around?" he asked. "We can be back at the Fleet before they are."

"No, it's all right. I want to do this. I need to do it. There," she said.

They had spent the last several days on a recruiting mission and returned to the Fleet that morning. They'd stayed only long enough to debrief and meet up with Padme and Luke, who was himself just returning. He and Red Squadron had just helped evacuate yet another installation that had been discovered by the Empire. Before they left again, Leia had returned Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber to her brother. Like Obi Wan, she had always had the inexplicable feeling that the weapon rightfully belonged to Luke. She was now going to Tatooine, to see the Lars' farm for herself and to build her own in the Jundland Wastes.

Han shrugged in acquiescence. "All right. I don't get it, but all right."

"I just need to go back. And…it was where my father meant for us to build them," she explained.

"If you say so," Han replied, his gaze shifting uncomfortably toward the holochess table where Leia had left her mother's journal. "Where were we?"

She smiled, "I think she was just about to find out that she was pregnant with Ani."

"Well, that should be good after all that time she insisted the old man was wrong and she couldn't be pregnant," he smirked.

Chuckling softly, she leaned forward to pick up the datapad again. She activated it, settling comfortably against Han as she began to read. He rested his chin atop her head to follow along, but she read aloud out of established habit now.

_"Obi Wan was right. I'm pregnant. Part of me can't believe it. Another part just thinks I should have known. He's almost always right. He showed me how to touch the baby in the Force. I've never experienced anything so incredible. It's magical enough just to consider it--that there is this life inside of me, this tiny being who is part of both of us. To actually touch that life is beyond my ability to describe. As close as I have ever been to Obi Wan, I felt profoundly closer to him in that moment._

"The idea of a baby is overwhelming in many ways. On the one hand, I have wanted a child for so long now, and to have one with Obi Wan is already the fulfillment of one of my deepest desires. On the other hand, I'm suddenly conscious of the awesome weight of such a responsibility. I don't know the first thing about parenting and neither does he. Of course, my parents and Sola and Darred give us wonderful examples to follow, but this is our baby. The responsibility of raising and teaching him lies with us. And in the back of my mind is a darker fear. We are at war. Where will he be in nine months? In one month? I try not to think about what could happen, but I have to now. I could find myself raising our child alone, and I already could not imagine my life without my husband.

"I don't know what I was thinking after Devaron. There was huge hole inside of me for that entire two years--a cold void where he was supposed to be. I never stopped thinking about him. For me there is no comfort or consolation in the thought that at least I would have his child. There's only the recurring and frightening question--how can I possibly raise a baby alone?

"Obi Wan doesn't seem to have any fear at all. I guess it's a Jedi thing, but it's disconcerting. I can say though that he's completely lost the reservations he had before about starting a family so soon. That's strange, too, but in a good way. When he first came to Naboo, talking about how much I wanted a family made him nervous. He said things were moving too fast and he needed time to figure out who he was outside of the Jedi Order before he became a father. We had planned to wait another year or at least until we had a place of our own, but the war has changed everything.

"He's happy, though, I know that. He's completely enamored with the baby already, even though he thinks that it's going to be a girl and I'm convinced it's a boy. He says he doesn't want to know the baby's sex because he doesn't need to. It'll be a girl and he wants to name her Leia. He even says that he doesn't care if she wants to follow me into politics. We'll see about that when he's holding his SON in his arms for the first time.

"Someday, I think we will have our Leia, though. I'm not afraid to admit that when we do, I hope that she will choose a career in politics. I don't think anything could make me more proud, but I don't care what our children do as long as they're happy and fulfilled.

"Obi Wan hasn't said so, but I know that at least part of him wants the baby to know the ways of the Force. I wouldn't mind at all if he wanted to teach our children, but I won't allow them to go to the Temple. I know that the Jedi Arts are important to him, and I want him to be able to share himself with our kids as much as I would be able to share the things that matter to me. I just can't abide the thought of sending them away from me, of allowing them to raised the way that he was. The temple is such a cold and emotionless environment for children. Besides, I believe that families should be together. I want them to know me. Is it selfish to want to hear someone calling me "Mom"?

"Well, she sure got that wish!" Han laughed.

"I guess she did," Leia murmured thoughtfully.

"Whatsamatter now?" he asked.

"I was just thinking," she shrugged.

"Thinking what?"

"Luke and Ani talk about that all the time--the family being together. Isaly too. I guess they all learned it from my mother. And it's strange thinking that they both knew they wanted me even before Ani was born. It must have been really hard for her to let me go to Alderaan. I remember knowing that she was sad, but I don't think I realized what a difficult decision it must have been for her," Leia mused.

"Your mom's a tough lady," Han said.

"I know. And she wanted what was best for me," nodded Leia.

"Course she did," Han shrugged. Then he fell silent, and she felt his emotions grow turbulent. She shifted positions, tilting her head to look up at him.

"Now something's wrong with you."

"Nah."

"Han, c'mon. This is a two way street here," she pressed.

"I never knew my mother," he said reluctantly.

"What happened to her?" Leia asked.

"I dunno," he shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't remember much before this guy Shrike found me."

"Found you?" Leia frowned.

"In a spaceport," he replied.

"Then what happened?"

He shrugged again, his gaze flicking uneasily away from her. "Shrike was con artist. Taught me how to run scams."

Leia gave a slow nod. She could tell that there was far more to it than that, but she could also sense that this was not the moment to press for details. It bothered her a bit that she knew so little about this man. It seemed as though everywhere they went, they met up with some "colorful" denizen of his past, yet this was the first time he had volunteered any meaningful detail about himself. He made himself out to be callous and the smuggler's life he lived a kind of carefree romp through the galaxy. She knew it was less appealing than he let on, though, and she had begun to realize that it was less what he really wanted than what he expected--or perhaps what he felt he deserved?

She laced her fingers through his and brought his hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss against the back of his knuckles. She found it telling that the first thing she learned about his past hinted at an unhappy youth and the absence of parental figures. Was a good sign that her mother's journal was what had brought about the revelation? He obviously cared for her parents more than he wanted to believe, but did he really trust them? Could he? 


	121. Floodgates

Isaly's eyes widened with fear, but after that first reflexive step backward, she held her ground. Much as she had learned to resist her instinct to flinch away from his physical touch, she held herself still in the face of her husband's anger. He could feel her struggling for composure, though she displayed only cool acceptance. She calmly laid a kiss on each of their sons' heads, then she lifted her gaze to look back at Ani.

"Of course you hate him, Anakin. Emperor Palpatine is evil. He's trying to destroy everything that's ever mattered to you. It's not wrong to feel what you do," she asserted.

"I am a Jedi," he rasped, spinning away again. "I am better than this."

"Yes," she replied. "You are."

He strode out into the swamp, throwing the cloak over his shoulders as he moved. Thunder cracked overhead and the rain began in earnest. He reached back to yank his hood over his head, but the water soon soaked the material, making it heavy, cold, and cumbersome. Heedless, he walked on, making no conscious decision of which direction in which to go. The Force pulled him onward in a way that he had never experienced. The usual gentle guidance was gone, as was the warmth he recognized as the Light Side. This power compelled him, becoming more demanding with each step he took, and though he had felt it before, he had never been so entrapped by its icy, irresistible current. It was as if by giving voice to his secret, murderous desires, he had unleashed the Dark Side within himself, and now that evil rushed outward, hurtling with the frightening and exhilarating force of a raging, storm-swollen river toward some place of darkness which lay hidden out here. Though he feared it, feared what he would find, Ani was powerless to resist the pull.

He walked on until he found himself staring into the gaping black mouth of a cave so rank with the Dark Side that, for a moment, his fear won out. He reached backward with one hand to grasp a low hanging branch on a nearby tree, instinctively searching for something with which to anchor himself. The sky flashed furiously, and thunder reverberated through the swamp. He shivered, slowly releasing his hold on the branch. Once he did, he found himself walking, again without any conscious choice to do so.

As he ducked inside and began to make his way through the dark, clammy interior, an icy mist rose to swirl around him. He raised his arm, pushing his way through into it. His heartbeat quickened as the now familiar rasp of Vader's breather filled his ears. His lightsabers flew into his hands.

_The Sith Lord strode toward him, red blade glowing in his hand. The mist melted away, and Ani saw that they stood at the foot of a tall staircase atop of which Emperor Palpatine presided over the confrontation as if it were some gruesome spectator sport. Vader struck quickly, but Ani caught the blade of his lightsaber deftly between the two he held, then forced him back._

"We killed you once already!" he shouted.

Vader came on again, but Ani beat his lightsaber away. Then he lunged, driving the Sith back with a flurry of quick strikes, shifting his attacks from one hand to the other so fast that Vader could mount no effective counterattack. Finally, he wrenched the red blade from the Sith Lord's grip. Vader faltered as it spun out of his hand, falling back. Ani stepped in, shifting from a left-handed attack to a right, and drove the green blade relentlessly through his chest. A hot spray of sparks erupted as the weapon pierced Vader's armor. Then a white light formed at the point of entry, fanning outward to cover first Vader and then Ani. He squinted to protect his eyes, and as the light faded again, the armor fell away. Anakin Skywalker crumpled to the floor.

"No!" Ani opened his hands, dropping both weapons as if they had burned him, and fell to his knees as Palpatine began to laugh. He lifted Anakin by the shoulders, cradling his battered body. "Uncle! What have I done?"

"It's perfectly natural, Anakin," Palpatine spoke up, rising from his throne. Ani ignored him, burying his face in Anakin's sweat-soaked hair.

"I'm sorry. Uncle, I'm sorry, forgive me," he pleaded.

"He dismembered you," Palpatine continued, coming down the steps. "You wanted revenge. Of course you did. It's not wrong to feel the way you do. Now. Fulfill your destiny and take your uncle's place at my side."

Ani's head snapped up. He grit his teeth, eyes narrowing as he stared into the hideous yellow-eyed face of the predator. Rage surged through him again as he sucked in a breath. The air itself was hot in his lungs, and he screamed, violently giving vent to the hatred which had festered within him for twenty years.

"It wasn't him! It was you! You destroyed_ him--you destroyed everything he was! And now I'm going to destroy you!"_

He sprang to his feet again, launching himself at Palpatine. His lightsabers flew back into his hands as he moved. Palpatine's hands shot up, claw-like, and blue death crackled from his fingertips. Ani screamed in pain, but it only increased his fury. He crossed his lightsabers in front of him, drawing on his rage and an agony that was both physical and emotional to push Palpatine back. The Sith Lord's anger grew as he realized that his opponent would not be so easily dispatched. He struck with another, more intense lightning surge, and Ani sank deep into his hatred, feeding on all the lives that this monster had already devoured to empower himself to withstand the onslaught. Slowly, the tide began to turn. The Force, cold and glorious now, pounded through Anakin Kenobi, amplifying his rage and directed by it. He edged Palpatine back until the Sith Lord stumbled against the stairs he had just descended.

His concentration broke as he fell. Ani slashed out again, slicing off both of the monster's arms at the elbows. Palpatine screamed, but Ani's other arm was already sweeping downward to take off his legs.

Then he stopped, staring down at the crumpled purple troll which had been the Emperor. His smile was cold and viscious.

"Now. You will die…"

The mist rose again. Ani whirled around as Palpatine's head tumbled to the floor. He stepped into the shroud and emerged in the Council Chamber on Coruscant. This was not the temple he had fled as a boy, however. This was a glorious new structure constructed by the office of the Chancellor to house the new Jedi Order. And it was his. The wide doors banged open, and he crossed his arms as his wife and siblings strode into the room.

"What's this?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same question, Anakin," Leia said coldly. "You've gone too far this time. Dissolving the Senate--"

"Your Senate was rife with corruption, little sister. I'm going to repair it," he said.

"Ani! Are you hearing yourself?" Isaly cried. "What is happening to you?"

"Happening to me?" he raised his eyebrows, waving his hand at them. "What is happening here?"

"Anakin," Luke stepped forward with the eerie calm of a Jedi to take the lead. "You must stop this. This isn't you. Your guilt and fear--your obsession with preventing another Palpatine from seizing power is destroying you. You are becoming the very thing that you've sworn to stand against. Look around you. You're betraying the Republic, the Jedi Order-- everything our parents fought to protect."

"I am the Jedi Order. And the Republic," he replied uncaringly. Then he let his eyes fall onto Isaly again. "Come with me."

She shook her head. "I can't. Ani, I will always love you, but you are going down a path that I cannot follow."

The words struck him like a physical blow. He winced briefly, his brow creasing in pain, but he showed no other reaction. Ruthlessly, he clamped down on the pain and crushed it, pulverizing it into oblivion and with it the last trace of his own weakness.

"Very well," he replied tightly. "Then you are a traitor."

"No!" she shook her head fiercely.

"If you're not with me, you're my enemy!" he roared.

"No, Ani, never--!" her cry was cut off as she grabbed for her throat, gasping for breath.

"Let her go, Anakin!" Leia ordered, drawing her lightsaber.

He tightened his Force grip. Luke charged at him, not bothering to issue the warning again. A green lightsaber sailed off his belt and Ani released Isaly to call his own weapons, locking them together as his brother came on.

"Luke! Ani! Stop!" Leia cried.

Neither brother listened, already leaping and whirling through the room. The light staff gave Ani a slight advantage at first, but Luke had grown powerful in the Force, and he was a gifted dualist. Like Obi Wan and Anakin Skywalker, these brothers had spent countless hours sparring together. They knew one another more intimately than either one had realized until this moment. Luke matched Ani blow for blow as they moved about the chamber, finally leaping over one end of his double-bladed weapon to avoid having his legs cut out from under him. As he came down, he leveled his lightsaber on the hilt of Ani's staff, using his downward momentum to empower the strike. The hilt was sliced in two as the green blade crashed into it, and a hard kick sent Ani sprawling onto the ground. He rolled to his feet still holding the blue half of his weapon. Lost in rage, he attacked again, beating off every blow his enemy delivered to hammer home his own. Planning and calculation were lost on him now. There was only fury and the intense desire to exact revenge on all of them--they had betrayed him, betrayed the bond of family in favor of some empty principle. With all the strength of his anger behind it, he leveled an overhead strike, and his blade crashed downward to lock with the green one. He grit his teeth, drawing on his anger to power the Jedi backward. Gradually, Luke fell back, his circle of defense shrinking, and Ani reached toward him with his other hand, closing mechanical fingers around the flesh of his brother's throat.

"Anakin!"_ Leia screamed as her twin's lightsaber fell from his grasp._

He lifted Luke off the ground, steeling himself against the horror and fear he heard in his sister's voice, closing himself off from the battery of her emotions. Luke's hands closed around his wrist, but there was no fear in the young Jedi's gaze, even as he realized that he lacked the physical power to force Ani's grip loose.

Pain. Sorrow. Profound disappointment. But no fear.

Stop, Ani. You don't want to do this. You'll never be able to live with it. __

He froze.

"Ani, please!" Leia sobbed.

Luke's eyes were sliding closed, his awareness fading. Ani stared at him, his gaze moving from his brother's expression of serene acceptance to his own hand, still locked around the boy's throat. Gasping, he released his grip and Luke crashed to the floor.

"Luke?" he asked, falling down beside him. "Oh, no…no…not you too…LUKE!"

His brother's eyes fluttered open. Ani grabbed him by the shoulders, then hugged him fiercely against his chest. "What am I doing? I'm sorry. Luke, I'm sorry!"

"Anakin," Leia called again, her voice dull and trembling now. He looked up sharply, his eyes moving from her to the still form of his wife on the floor beside her. His whole body went cold as he understood why Leia had not joined her twin in the battle.

"Isaly!" he surged to his feet, racing toward them. Too late. He already knew that she wasn't breathing. "No!"

You killed her. In your anger, you killed your wife… 


	122. Fault Lines

Isaly jolted awake, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. The pile of datapads on the bed beside her clattered to the floor, sending an eerie blue swirl of light and shadow over Ani's features as they fell. He didn't move, and a cold knot tightened in the pit of her stomach. Determined to ignore it, she swung her feet to the floor, but as soon as she started toward him, he glided backward, and she could just make out the darker edge of his cloak whirling around him as he turned away.

"Ani, what are you doing?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain calm.

"I have to see Yoda," he said mechanically.

"What are you doing?" she repeated, following him toward the door. "I mean here--watching me sleep?"

"Making sure you were all right," he said. "I don't know how long I'll be."

"Ani! We're not all right," she shook her head. "Stop."

He halted rigidly, gripping the doorframe as if to brace himself, but he didn't turn to face her. "What?"

"You've been gone for three days. The boys have been restless and upset. They know something happened to you out there, and so do I. You don't need to see Yoda _now_--"

"Yes, I do," he cut her off roughly. "I'm--sorry."

She stepped forward and reached for his shoulder shoulder, but his hand flashed up to catch her wrist before she could actually touch him. Though his touch was as gentle as ever, there was an uncharacteristic firmness in his grip, and a chill passed through her.

She drew in a shaky breath. "I'm your wife. And we've been through this already. If I can't touch you, we're going to have a problem."

He stiffened. Then a moment later, his shoulders sagged. Releasing her wrist, he ran his hand over his face and shoved his fingers through his hair.

"I love you," he whispered brokenly.

"I love you, too, Ani," she promised. "What happened?"

"A vision," he said evasively.

"I know that much, Anakin. What did you see?" she asked.

He pulled away and moved out into the hall, where he stared up at ceiling. "Isaly, you're going to die And it's going to be my fault."

"Wh-what?" she stammered, hugging her arms against her chest to keep herself from shaking.

"I killed you," he sobbed.

"What are you talking about!" she shook her head vehemently. "Ani, that's crazy!"

"I turned to the Dark Side. You and the twins came to talk to me--to try to get me to come back. I--" he broke off.

"Tell me," she whispered.

"I asked you to come with me, and when you refused, I…became convinced that you had betrayed me. I called you a traitor--I--Isaly, I attacked you. Luke tried to stop me, and I almost killed him too. I crushed your throat, and I almost did the same thing to my brother!" he cried.

"You would never do something like that," she shook her head again, scalding tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I don't know that anymore!" he insisted.

Isaly dragged in another breath and let her arms drop, stepping toward him. He started to pull away again, but she leaned in, stopping him with a determined kiss. He stood frigid, not returning it, but not trying to force her away. As their lips parted again, she could feel his conflict raging in the Force--desperate need and utter self-revulsion.

"_I_ know," she told him.

"I have to go to Yoda," he said.

"Wait. I need to know something else first," she laid a hand on his arm.

He paused, wordlessly waiting.

"Do you still want to help Vader?" she asked.

"Vader--what…?"

For Isaly, Vader loomed like a specter over everything they did here. Every accomplishment they made on Dagobah was soured by the knowledge that such gains were for the sole purpose of confronting him--and when the time came, she knew that whatever the outcome, Ani would never be the same again. Normally, she could put such concerns aside. She truly found the research she was conducting in neurobiology to be fascinating, and Ani's Jedi training was as much a part of who he was as the farm on Tatooine had been. Now, though, she had been brought face to face with the corruptive power of the Dark Side. She had been willing to believe Ani before when he said that Vader would not kill him--and she knew that the visions that both Padme and Ani had did not determine the future so much as they reflected the turmoil caused by uncertainty in the present. Yet, if Ani could be so deeply twisted by the power of the Dark Side, she wasn't so sure that she could rely on his trust in Anakin Skywalker.

"Ani, you saw what happened in your vision. You can't be sure that Vader won't kill you now," she pointed out.

He shook his head in confusion. "I just told you that I killed you, and you're worried about Vader killing _me?"_

"You're not going to kill me, Anakin. You're not going to turn to the Dark Side. You have three children who depend on you, and you know better than anyone what price they will pay if you choose that path. Now, do I need to continue trying to find a way to help your uncle or can we let this go now?" she asked.

"I can't let him go," Ani shook his head. "If our positions were reversed, he would stop at nothing to save me."

"You'd better go and see Yoda, then," Isaly said.

He nodded stiffly and then left without stopping to see the twins. She followed him to the door and stood watching until his silhouette disappeared into the trees. Then she slipped back inside and leaned against the wall, slowly allowing herself to slide onto the dirt floor, where she buried her face in her hands and wept.

-----

"I have a bad feeling about this," Obi Wan murmured as he and Bail stepped inside the dark, smoke-filled club and made their way up to the bar.

"It's too late to call it off now," Bail replied quietly.

Obi Wan nodded. Both men slid into empty seats and ordered drinks, then settled with their elbows on the bartop to wait. Their contact was supposedly a high-level Imperial defector. Their quarry, however was someone else. Intelligence reports indicated that the Emperor had explicitly ordered the deaths of all remaining Kenobis. Since Ani had gone to Dagobah, they'd had several run-ins with a certain individual who seemed to have made it her personal task to carry out those orders. A trap had been laid again…this time, though, the Kenobis had decided to spring it.

"Two men just moved in front of the door," Obi Wan said, keeping his voice low and casual. "There are three more on either side of the room. They'll start moving in any moment."

"Only eight?" Bail remarked. "Aren't you a bit insulted?"

"I'm sure there are more outside," Obi Wan shrugged. "From what the boys told me, though, our friend is a formidable adversary."

Bail nodded, sipping at his drink. Obi Wan did the same, making himself appear entirely at ease though he kept careful track of the men by the walls, waiting for them to close in. He could sense their nervous anticipation, but for a few minutes, they made no move.

"You know, I've never thanked you properly," he murmured to Bail in the same low tone.

"For what?"

"You took care of her. Gave her opportunities that were beyond our reach," Obi Wan said.

"And you gave us the child that we never would have had otherwise," Bail shrugged. "I would say it's a fair bargain and then some."

"Thank you anyway," Obi Wan said.

"You're welcome."

Obi Wan waited a few more moments, then remarked with a sigh. "Well, it seems we've been stood up."

Bail turned on his bar stool and started to his feet, but a magenta lightsaber hummed to life, flowing outward centimeters from his throat. The woman beside them shook back her hood, revealing the distinctive red hair that the boys had described from Yavin 4. Her lips twisted upward in a smirk.

"You're a bad actor."

"Well," Obi Wan sighed. "Can't have everything I suppose."

Bail shot him a wide-eyed look of worry. "Master Kenobi…?"

Obi Wan glanced at him with a reassuring smile. Then he moved his gaze to the young woman again. "I don't believe we've met."

"Mara Jade," she said in the same faintly amused tone.

"That's much better. Now, Mara Jade, perhaps you'd consider letting my friend go," he suggested.

"Or not."

"Look, it's not him you want. If you let him go, I'll come along quietly," offered Obi Wan.

"The Emperor has ordered the deaths of you, your wife, and all Jedi collaborators," she said.

"Not my sons?" Obi Wan asked with genuine surprise.

"He has other plans for them," she replied.

"We'll see about that, won't we?" Obi Wan muttered. "At any rate, my friend here is not a Jedi collaborator."

"Close enough," she shrugged.

He sighed again. "In that case, we're going to have to do this the hard way."

"You're going to stop me from killing him and fight all nine of us by yourself," she rolled her eyes as her companions began to close in on them.

Obi Wan glanced around the room and heaved another sigh. "It seems that way doesn't it?"

"You don't seem very worried. Last I heard Luke was halfway across the galaxy with Red Squadron and Ani hasn't been seen in months. You have another son I don't know about?" she asked flippantly.

"No, no more sons," Obi Wan admitted. Then a smile curved his lips as Mara Jade found herself with the barrel of a blaster pressed squarely against the back of her head. "This would be my daughter."

Mara Jade still didn't lower her lightsaber. Then Han leapt up from the floor behind the bar, leveling a second blaster at her, and her back-up, all troops garrisoned locally that she had "borrowed" upon her arrival, abruptly froze. They suddenly seemed very unsure of who was in control and who had just set a trap for whom. Obi Wan gave the smuggler a quick glance and a nod of acknowledgement.

"Oh. And my future son-in-law."

"Hey! Let's not rush things, _okay,_ old man?" Han cried.

"Sorry," murmured Obi Wan.

Mara Jade closed her eyes briefly. "No wonder the Emperor wants them dead."

She let her arm drop and gave Bail a shove in Obi Wan's direction. At the same time, she rammed her left elbow back into Leia's stomach and brought the heel of her boot down hard on the princess's foot. Han couldn't risk firing into the confusion, and Obi Wan was forced to grab Bail by the shoulders to keep both of them from being knocked over. Leia dropped her blaster as she staggered back, and she barely managed to call her new lightsaber to her hand in time to block Mara's slash at her neck.

Mara pressed the attack, driving Leia back further, and the two combatants began to move around the bar. Obi Wan called his own weapon, but as soon as Mara was out of their way, her back-up opened fire. Bail dove for Leia's fallen blaster, also pulling out the one on his belt as he rolled to his feet again. With a weapon in each hand, he returned fire while Obi Wan deflected the red energy bolts back at the Imperials. Meanwhile, Han vaulted over the bar to join them.

The three men cut down their assailants in a blinding red barrage of blaster fire punctuated by explosions and shattering glass. Then they ran toward Leia and Mara, who were moving steadily toward the door. The rest of the bar's patronage had ducked behind tables and chairs during the firefight and remained there now as they waited out the end of the duel.

Mara kept Leia firmly on the defensive, but Obi Wan wasn't particularly worried about this. Her blocks and parries were competent, with each exchange bringing Leia's darker, bluish-purple blade up, down, or around in a tightly controlled arc to meet Mara's lighter magenta one. The weapons flashed and spun until they became a blur of interwoven color, but for the moment at least, the two women were evenly matched in speed and agility. Though she was being driven back, Leia continued to hold her own without ever allowing Mara to breach her circle of defense.

The fight spilled out onto the street before the men could reach them. Han, Bail, and Obi Wan charged out after them and burst through the doors just in time to see Leia fall to the ground on the far side of the alley. She rolled out of the way before Mara could cut her in half, then to Obi Wan's astonishment, the _Falcon_, flying tilted up on one side, came barreling through the narrow alleyway, cutting off Mara's next attack.

Leia scrambled to her feet as the men reached her, and Han laid his hands protectively on her shoulders. She gave a hurried nod, assuring him that she was unharmed, then turned to stare at the ship, which had cleared the alley and was gliding off to land in an empty lot nearby.

The alley itself was now totally empty. The few seconds in which the ship had cut off Mara from their line of sight had been all that the young woman needed to vanish again. Bail, Obi Wan, and Leia heaved a collective sigh while Han gaped in disbelief.

"Where'd she go now?"

"I have no idea," Obi Wan told him.

"She can't have gone that far, c'mon!" he urged.

"Han, what for?" Obi Wan asked, laying a restraining hand on his arm. "I could probably find her through the Force, but we're not going to catch her now. We've lost our advantage."

"If we ever had one," he muttered. 


	123. The Shape of Who We Are

Yoda was waiting for him as he ducked inside the house. Ani bowed deeply before the Master and sank onto the floor, closing his eyes to await whatever his teacher would have to say to him. Yoda stood watching him for a long moment. He didn't speak, but whatever he saw in Ani seemed to satisfy him. At least, Ani could sense no disappointment or silent rebuke. As he listened to Yoda tap his way into the kitchen, he began to shake.

He thought he rainstorm had ended some time on the day after the vision. He'd been disoriented when he finally stumbled back out of the cave, and his ability to gauge time was clouded. He hadn't really been sure how much time had passed until Isaly told him that he'd been gone for three days. Even with the storm over, though, the swamp was always wet and humid. It took an interminable amount of time for his clothes to dry. He'd felt so numb that he wasn't even aware of how cold he really was.

Now, the room was warm, but instead of being a comfort to him, the heat only made him conscious that his entire body was frozen. It drew the cold out of him in waves, and as they passed, he shuddered from head to toe. His teeth chattered uncontrollably, but he felt too exhausted to even try to stop them.

Yoda returned a few moments later with a bowl of hot stew, which he accepted as much to be able to curl his icy fingers around it as to eat. The Master watched him gulp down the meal for a second or two, then turned and walked over to the couch, which he pulled himself onto and waited, staring intently at him but still not saying anything.

"Thank you, Master," Ani said, the tremors finally subsiding as he set the empty bowl down beside him.

"Seen the future, have you?" Yoda asked.

"I hope not," replied Ani.

"Oh?"

"I turned to the Dark Side in my vision, Master Yoda. I…murdered my wife. And nearly killed my brother," Ani explained, restraining the intense urge to spit the words from his mouth.

Yoda nodded, his eyes slowly closing as he considered the revelation. "Seen what you may become, you have. The truth of yourself have you faced. Already more than Vader have you accomplished."

"I don't understand, Master. What have I accomplished?" frowned Ani.

"Never could young Skywalker admit his fear. Yet afraid was he from the day Qui-Gon took him from Tatooine," explained Yoda. "Never could he face his own anger. Destroyed by it, he was."

"What was my uncle afraid of?" Ani asked, intrigued. He remembered Anakin's terror the night of the massacre in the temple, but that had been centered around Padme, whom he believed was going to die in childbirth. He couldn't imagine what else Anakin might have feared. Even as a boy, he had brave enough to compete in the pod races that his mother had so hated, and he had destroyed the droid control ship which allowed the Naboo to end the Trade Federation blockade.

"Failure," Yoda told him. "And loss--losing his mother. Being alone."

Ani inhaled sharply. "He blamed himself for Shmi's death. My mother told me he felt that he failed her because he didn't get there sooner."

"Yes," nodded Yoda.

"Then…his fear of _failure_ became bound to his loss. And the loss _became_ the failure," Ani mused. "So, when those fears were realized, they were compounded--exacerbated by one another."

"Yes."

"And the whole cycle repeated again with my mother," Ani sighed heavily.

"Yes," Yoda lowered his head. "Destroyed young Skywalker, it did."

Ani narrowed his eyes. "Wait. If you knew that--if you understood what was happening to him--why didn't you do anything? Why wasn't more done to help him?"

"Changed now it cannot be," Yoda replied, looking up again. "Here to help _you_ we are."

"But--"

"Named, your fear must be," Yoda interrupted.

Ani swallowed. Then he closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and reached for calm as his father had taught him. Only when he was centered did he look at Yoda again, and his voice was steady as he spoke.

"I'm afraid of the Dark Side. I'm afraid that the Dark Man was never in Anakin Skywalker at all, but in me," he said.

"Then choose, you must."

"What choice?" Ani asked.

"To let go of the hate you feel for the Emperor," Yoda said.

"I'm trying--"

"No. There is no try. Learned this you have, long ago from your father. Make a Jedi fall, the Emperor cannot. Only you can do this. Let go you must! Only then can you face him and succeed," insisted Yoda.

"Help me. Master Yoda, I choose to walk the path of the Jedi. I will do whatever you say," Ani promised.

"Begin tomorrow we will," said Yoda, sliding to his feet. "Sleep now, you should."

"Wait, Master, please," Ani scrambled up as well. "Tell me what happened with my uncle."

Instead of answering, Yoda made his way to the door, leaning heavily on his gimmer stick as he walked. He gave every indication that he hadn't heard the question at all, but Ani knew better. Yoda held the door open and looked back at him, the gesture clearly a dismissal. He glanced down at the floor and wet his lips, then looked up again. Having just promised to do whatever Yoda said, he would be laying a poor foundation if he pressed for an answer that the Master didn't wish to give. He already knew that Yoda was far less tolerant of willful students than Obi Wan, but he had come to Dagobah as much for Anakin as for himself.

"Yoda, I must know."

The ancient master seemed to shrivel, and he turned away, staring out into the darkened swamp. "Saw too late, I did," he admitted.

-----

Han, Bail, Obi Wan and Leia ran up the _Falcon's_ boarding ramp, their booted footfalls clanging heavily as they went. Chewie met them just inside the hatch with a worried howl for Leia, but before she could reassure the distraught Wookiee, Han pushed his way between them.

"Chewie! What were you thinking flying the _Falcon_ like that?"

Chewie growled back, shaking his head in vehement denial.

"Whaddaya mean it wasn't you? Who's flyin' this thing?" Han demanded.

"Oh, no…" Obi Wan moaned.

"What's wrong, Dad?" Leia asked.

"Where is Shmi…?" Bail frowned.

Han blinked. Then a slow smile began to form on his lips. "You gotta be kidding me."

"Shmi??" Leia's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

The whole group sprinted for the cockpit, where they crammed inside to find Shmi contentedly awaiting them in the pilot's seat. She craned her neck to peer at them and then turned briskly back to the controls.

"Everyone onboard?" she asked.

"Young lady!" Obi Wan exclaimed. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"Tryin'a get us outta here before the Empire shows up with more guys right now, Grandpa," she replied calmly.

"She has a point," Leia remarked.

Obi Wan glared. "Well, I think Han can handle getting us out of here, don't you, Leia?"

"You guys might wanna go strap in for take-off," Shmi interrupted smoothly, her small fingers working over the console in front of her with a distressing amount of ease and surety.

"She's already in the chair," Leia shrugged, turning a teasing smile on him before she slipped back through the doorway to the lounge.

"Nice flyin', kid," Han congratulated, squeezing his way past Chewie to take the co-pilot's station. The Wookiee added an approving croon and patted her hair, engulfing her entire head with his hand in the process.

"Thanks!"

Obi Wan raised his eyes to the ceiling and heaved a long, heavy sigh. "We are going to discuss this later, young lady. Do you understand me?"

"_Yes,_ Grandpa," she huffed.

"Good," he said, then turned to go back into the lounge.

Leia grinned at him as he walked in. "I don't see what the big deal is, Dad."

"She's four," he replied, giving her a pointed look as he sat down and started to strap in for liftoff.

"Are you sure this doesn't have something to do with how much you dislike flying?" asked his daughter.

"She took the _Falcon_ without permission. And a maneuver like that is very dangerous," Obi Wan said. "Especially at her age."

"Uncle Anakin was flying in podraces already by the time he was her age," Leia pointed out.

"How do you know that?" frowned Obi Wan.

"Mom talked about it in her journal," Leia said. "Shmi Skywalker told her that Uncle Anakin could fly almost before he could walk. And didn't he destroy the droid control ship over Naboo by himself?"

"Not exactly. Besides, he had no idea what he was doing in that battle. The Force was guiding him," Obi Wan said.

"The Force is strong with her," Leia said, glancing toward the cockpit.

"I know it is," he sighed.

"And she's not all that much younger than he was when you met him," added Leia.

"Little One isn't Uncle Anakin," Obi Wan ran a hand over his face in exasperation.

"Would you have scolded him if he'd tried something like that?" she asked.

"Yes, and a lot more harshly," he said frankly.

"She did help me," Leia reminded him, shifting tactics.

"Well, if your uncle had done it, it more than likely would have been in attempt to save me," Obi Wan heard himself admit. Then as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. "But I was right there, Leia. I could have helped you."

"She probably didn't know that when she realized I was in trouble, Dad," Leia said.

"It was still reckless."

"But she has Han teaching her how to fly this thing. Not to mention whatever else she picks up from him. He's not exactly known for thinking things through before he does them, but he _can_ fly. And he's a good teacher. I've seem with her," Leia asserted.

"So have I," Obi Wan sighed reluctantly. "But that doesn't mean I want her flying the Falcon through alleys."

"Granted," Leia smiled. "But it was my fault as much as hers, you know."

"What?" his eyes widened.

"I let Mara Jade catch me off guard in there," said Leia. "If I hadn't, there wouldn't have been duel, and there wouldn't have been a reason for Shmi to do anything except wait in the ship with Chewie like she was supposed to."

"You fought well," Obi Wan shook his head. Then he turned to indicate Bail before adding, "We're both proud of you."

Leia's smile widened, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. "Thank you. Both--"

Suddenly, the ship rocked with the impact of turbolaser fire, and she cut off the end of the sentence to crane her neck toward the cockpit. Bail and Obi Wan did the same, snapping off their restraints as Han raced inside. Shmi trailed close behind him, braids bouncing as she ran, which presumably meant that this time Chewie _was_ flying the ship.

"Looks like Mara's not givin' up so easy, and she brought some friends," he said. "I could use some help until we can get into hyperspace, old man, if you think you still got it in you."

"I think I can handle that," Obi Wan smirked. "Although, for the record, I hate flying."

"I can help, Han!" Shmi offered.

"No," both he and Obi Wan shouted, already running for the quad-laser access tube. Obi Wan half turned as they went, and pointed a finger at her. "You're to stay here with your aunt!"

"But--"

"Do what he tells you, kid," Han insisted.

"Yes, Master," she sighed.


	124. Always In Motion

Padme's eyebrow rose, and she slowly crossed her arms as she peered down at her unrepentant grandchild. Shmi smiled back, appearing not the slightest bit concerned with the chastisement she was about to receive. Her grandmother had to force herself to maintain a stern expression at the child's reaction. The truth was that she wasn't particularly upset with Shmi at the moment. Certainly, she didn't want to encourage reckless joyriding in the _Falcon_, but under the circumstances, she wasn't surprised at what her granddaughter had done. She'd lost count of how many times that Shmi had heard the story of Obi Wan and Padme's first meeting, the escape to Tatooine, the significance of the comlinks, and Anakin Skywalker's role in saving Naboo from the Trade Federation. Add to that the influence of her Uncle Luke and now her unexpected relationship with Han, Padme would have been surprised if she _hadn't_ started hearing about such exploits. After all, it was in Little One's blood. Whether he enjoyed spaceflight now or not, her grandfather had once garnered himself a reputation as an astounding fighter pilot. Padme knew that he didn't like it now, though, and they had long ago established a policy of supporting one another's disciplinary measures whether they completely agreed or not.

"Young lady," she said. "You are not to fly the _Falcon_ or any other spacecraft without permission again."

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded.

"And if I hear about any more reckless stunts like this, you are grounded from flying completely until I or your grandfather say otherwise. Am I understood?" Padme continued.

"Yes, Grandma," Shmi sighed. Then she turned toward Obi Wan, who was standing beside her, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "So, you don't have to worry anymore, Grandpa. Okay?"

Padme ducked her head, trying desperately not to laugh. Leia abruptly decided that she needed a drink and grabbed Han by the arm, dragging him off with her to the kitchen. Obi Wan looked down at his granddaughter with a deep frown. She turned an impish smile on him, and his brow reluctantly smoothed.

"At least until you grow up," he sighed in resignation.

"I wasn't gonna mention that," Shmi grinned.

------

Leia was still giggling against Han's chest when her mother walked into the tiny cubicle which now passed for the Kenobis' kitchen. Padme immediately dissolved into laughter, though she tried to smother it behind her hand. Han grinned as she walked up to them, and he slowly stretched out his arm to include her in the hug.

Padme didn't seem at all surprised by the gesture. She shook her head in amusement and ducked her forehead briefly against his shoulder. Leia wasn't sure quite how to react, but Padme took the concern from her by linking her arms around both of them.

"Oh, your poor father," she laughed.

"He better get used to it, that's all," Han said with a shake of his head. Then he stepped back, breaking the contact almost as soon as it had been established. He walked over to the refrigeration unit, peering inside as if nothing had happened.

Again, Padme wasn't surprised, and this time Leia wasn't either. She looked down, slightly disappointed, but she hadn't really expected Han to tolerate that kind of gesture, let alone be the one to initiate it. Padme's hand slipped onto her shoulder, and she turned to look at her mother with a genuine smile.

"Are you all right? Were you hurt?" Padme asked.

"No, Mom, I'm fine," Leia assured her.

"Well, I wasn't too sure I liked the idea of you carrying a lightsaber, Leia, but I'm glad now. And I'm proud of you, too," Padme smiled.

"Thanks," Leia nodded with both gratitude and understanding. Like her mother, she believed in the political system upon which the Republic had been founded. She preferred to find diplomatic solutions to any conflict, but she understood that the time for diplomacy had long since ended. She wasn't afraid to take up a weapon, and she knew how to use them, but lightsabers represented an overt and obvious tie to the Jedi Order. Many of Padme's contemporaries had not trusted the Jedi, and those sentiments had not completely faded. Also, she knew from reading her mother's journal that while Padme had always trusted Obi Wan and sincerely wanted to help him build a new Jedi Order, she had other hopes for Leia. Completing her Force training had been a decision that Leia had made in hopes of surmounting her feelings of disconnectedness from her family, but she would never entirely do that unless she could maintain commonality with both of her parents. Carrying a lightsaber, for her, was a symbolic action. By continuing in her role as a diplomat on behalf of the Rebel Alliance and keeping her title as Princess of Alderaan, she hoped that holding the visible symbol of the Jedi Order would send a message, both that the Jedi were and had always been loyal to the principles of the Republic and that it would not be one faction or approach that would win their freedom from the Empire now. Yet until she knew for certain that she had Padme's approval as well as Obi Wan's, the weapon had rested uneasily at her belt.

"What I wanna know," remarked Han, closing the door to the refrigeration unit without taking anything out, "is what _color_ that thing is."

"What?" Leia frowned.

"Well, it's kinda blue, but it ain't really blue," Han said.

Leia laughed softly, shaking her head. She had had to channel the Force into her lightsaber crystal as it formed, making sure that it was the right shape and completely free of impurities. The impartation of her own energy made the crystal entirely unique, including its color, which was far darker blue than the ones that her father and older brother had used for their weapons. There were even hints of purple in it, similar to the mineral labradorite, which had been a personal favorite of hers for years.

"What?" asked Han.

"Nothing," she said.

"May I see it?"

"Mmm," nodded Leia, quickly removing the weapon from her belt. She handed it to Padme, who looked the hilt over for a few moments and then bit her lip.

"You know, I don't think I've ever turned one of these things on," she remarked.

Leia grinned. She reached over to correct her mother's grip slightly, then walked around behind her to guide her into the proper opening stance. Padme glanced nervously back at her, and she nodded reassuringly.

"See, now, press that button right there with your thumb," she directed.

"The big one?"

"Mmm-hmm."

The blade hissed and flowed to life, eliciting grins from both Han and Leia at the sight of Padme holding it. Leia felt her mother tense a bit, but she turned her wrist experimentally, creating the familiar hum that accompanied the blade's motion.

From the doorway, Obi Wan cleared his throat. Leia looked up to find him leaning against the frame with Shmi at his side. He raised his eyebrows.

"You know, darling, if you wanted a lightsaber lesson, all you ever had to do was ask," he remarked sardonically.

"Well, maybe I was waiting for my daughter to give me one," Padme replied.

------

In the morning, Ani and Yoda went back to their habit of meditating for long hours. Months went by and physically, it seemed to Isaly that nothing was different. They sat in much the same way that they had done before Ani's vision in the cave. Emotionally, however, she knew that everything had changed. If he came in at all, Ani dropped into bed at night exhausted and he had little to say except that he was working to purge himself, with Yoda's guidance, of his hatred and desire for revenge against Palpatine. She did her best not to watch them. Even the air around them seemed heavier, charged with energy, and if she stood looking at them for too long, inevitably she would feel her skin begin to crawl and have to hug herself to suppress a shudder.

What bothered her the most was the distance that seemed to be developing between Ani and his sons. They sensed his emotional struggle, even if they couldn't understand it, and it made them uneasy. They gravitated naturally toward their mother, who was a source of comfort, and Yoda, who seemed to exist in a constant, steady, and unbreakable state of peace.

Some days, Yoda stayed with Ani. Then the boys were content to play near Isaly. Other times, the Master would leave Ani to meditate and take the boys to his house or lead them on an exploratory trek through the swamp. The practice made Isaly slightly nervous at first, given how young her sons were, but she knew that Yoda was well capable of protecting them. Also, she had of necessity become quite familiar with their surroundings, which helped alleviate her fears of the strange environment. For Obi-Too and Junior, Dagobah became what Tatooine had been for their father. It was by no means a safe playground, but they came to know and understand it along with their mother, especially with the guidance of Master Yoda, who taught them a healthy respect for the wildlife of the swamp but no fear.

They grew startlingly fast, seeming bigger and stronger every day. Watching them develop made her ache for her daughter, who she knew must also be changing profoundly. Leaving Shmi had been the most difficult thing that Isaly have ever had to do. Knowing that her daughter would be with grandparents who dearly loved her and that Luke and Leia would stay as close by as they could really hadn't made much difference to her. Even though she knew that it was for the best that Shmi remained with her grandparents, the maternal part of her cried out against leaving her child. She couldn't imagine how Padme must have felt when she had made the decision to send Leia to Alderaan. At least for her, there was the small comfort of knowing that Shmi would think of her; Padme had had to live with the knowledge that her little girl didn't even know who she was.

She tried not to dwell too much on how long they had been on Dagobah or to wonder how much longer it would be before Ani's training was complete. She knew that he had come here with the intent to re-learn lightsaber combat and that both Yoda and Mace Windu would be instructing him when the time came, but so far he had done nothing except sit in the mud. She didn't have to wonder what the answer to any questions she might have posed about this would be. Patience. Haste is not the Jedi Way. So, as much as she could, she focused on the twins to alleviate her loneliness.

Though younger, Junior seemed to be the more daring of the two. He was the first to venture away from Isaly, the one who tended to crawl into hollowed logs or pull things off of low shelves to see what they were. Of course, his brother was in no way blameless when it came to these sorts of misadventures. Not to be outdone, Obi-Too followed closely after his twin, throwing himself whole-heartedly into whatever disaster that Junior initiated. Isaly found it both endearing and telling that they were unfailingly more concerned with the other being hurt or scolded. If Obi-Too fell and scraped his elbow, he might sniffle. Junior, however, would wail. When Junior was scolded, he would look back at his mother with huge, penitent eyes, and perhaps whimper a bit. Obi-Too would sob and cling protectively to him, as if by doing so he could shield his brother from censure.

When they were about eighteen months old, it somehow occurred to them that it might be amusing to switch places. Yoda of course wasn't fooled by this new game, and it didn't take Isaly long to be able to see through it. She had already overcome the challenge of learning to tell the difference between her look-alike sons when they were infants. That left Ani to try to trick, and they attempted it one night when he unexpectedly finished his work with Yoda before they went to bed.

They scrambled off the floor and ran over to him, holding up their arms. He bent easily and swung them both into his arms, depositing a kiss atop their blond heads.

"Daddy!"

"Hello, Junior. Obi-Too," he smiled as he kissed them.

The twins stared at him with wide, surprised eyes and shook their heads. Ani raised his eyebrows and shot an uncertain look at Isaly. She shrugged, hiding a chuckle behind the datapad she was reading.

"What…?" Ani asked the boys.

"Daddy. I Junior!" Obi-Too pointed a chubby finger at his chest.

"I Obi-Too!" Junior added with an emphatic nod.

"No, you're not," Ani laughed.

"Yeeeeeeeees!" the twins chorused.

"No…" Ani shook his head at them.

Realizing that they weren't going to fool their father either, the twins abruptly lost interest in being held. They squirmed to be let down, and Ani bent to put them on the floor again with a faint sigh. They toddled back to the game they had abandoned, leaving him to trudge over to Isaly.

"How is it going?" he asked as he sank down beside her and kissed her cheek.

"I don't know, Ani," she shook her head dubiously. "I think I need to know more about just what extent of nerve damage we're dealing with.

He frowned and nodded. "Maybe I can help with that."

"What do you mean?" Isaly asked.

"There are memory recall techniques I can use. To bring back details from the Death Star. The duel, the way he moved, the things I sensed. We could extrapolate from that," he suggested softly.

"Ani, I don't want you to have to live through that again," she shook her head, bringing her hand to his cheek.

"We're doing this to help him," Ani replied. "I'll do whatever it takes."


	125. Always On The Move

The "scene" that Obi Wan is thinking about toward the end is a reference to the short missing scene fic entitlted _Unbreakable and Binding_ that I posted a couple months ago. This chapter is dedicated to my grandparents.

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Padme awoke to the familiar sound of her husband's snoring. She frowned as she pushed herself upright, troubled by the distinct sense of something amiss. Then she cast a quick, uncertain glance down at Obi Wan. Usually, he was the first to know if something was wrong, but was sound asleep, oblivious to even the fact that she had moved from his side, which would typically wake him, if only long enough for him to mumble a question or ask for a glass of water. Giving her head a slight shake, she swung her feet to the floor and reached for her robe, then slipped it on as she rose exited their bedroom.

In the main room, she found Shmi curled up in a chair by the viewport window, staring at the mass of gleaming starships which hung in the black void around them. Immediately, she felt the direction of her granddaughter's thoughts and smiled sadly as she approached.

"Little One?" she asked, slipping her arm around the child's shoulders.

"Did I wake you up?" Shmi asked without turning.

"Kind of," Padme nodded.

"Sorry."

"It's all right, sweetheart. Something wrong?" asked her grandmother.

"It's Mommy," explained Shmi.

"Something's the matter with Mommy?" A worried edge filtered into Padme's tone, and she felt her eyebrows shoot up.

"Mommy's sad tonight," Shmi said.

"Oh, I see," Padme murmured, letting her hand smooth gently over her granddaughter's shoulders. "Are you sad too?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

"Come on, sweetheart," Padme urged, turning toward the couch. Shmi followed her over and snuggled against her side with a deep sigh that was both sad and relieved. Padme rubbed her back for a few minutes, then said softly, "Sometimes I feel sad, too."

"I know," Shmi replied.

Padme smiled. "You know Grandpa does too?"

"Grandpa misses Daddy all the time," Shmi said quietly.

"It's all right to miss them," Padme assured her.

"Do you think Daddy will be okay?" Shmi peered up at her worriedly.

"Daddy will be fine," Padme promised without hesitation.

"Are you just sayin' that to make me feel better?" Shmi tilted her head skeptically.

"No."

"Han said he didn't know," Shmi sighed.

"Well," Padme said thoughtfully. "Han is your Dad's friend, but I'm still his mother. I know him a little better."

"Oh. Okay," Shmi settled her head back against Padme's side, chewing her lower lip in thought. "Grandma?"

"Mmm-hmm?"

"You remember before the twins were born when I didn't want to have to share Grandpa with them?" she asked.

"Yes," Padme chuckled quietly. "I'm surprised you remember it."

"I don't, really. Uncle Luke told Aunt Leia," explained Shmi.

"Oh. What about it?"

"It's funny but, now that I can have Grandpa to myself, I kinda wish they were here too," she admitted.

"I'm sure they'll be home soon, honey. Then you'll see them so much that you'll get sick of them," Padme winked.

"Did you get sick of Aunt Sola?" Shmi asked.

"Not usually," Padme replied thoughtfully. "But I was the younger sister. I'm sure that sometimes Aunt Sola was sick of me."

"If I get sick of the twins, can we send them away again?" Shmi asked with a winning smile.

"No."

"I didn't think so," she sighed.

"Are you ready for bed yet, sweetheart?" laughed Padme.

Shmi shook her head, slipping her arms tightly around her grandmother. "I'm not tired."

"How about if you come and lie down with Grandpa and I?" suggested Padme.

"Okay," Shmi nodded reluctantly.

Padme smiled again and stood up. She led the way into the bedroom with Shmi still attached to her side. Once there, the pair crept their way as quietly as possible into the bed, but Obi Wan stirred anyway. He half rolled over, giving them a comically confused look.

"Move over, Grandpa, we have company," Padme smiled.

"Little One, you all right?" he mumbled as he scooted himself closer to the edge of the bed.

She snuggled in behind him, appropriated his shoulder for a pillow and slipped her arms around him. "I'm okay, Grandpa."

"Good. Goodnight, Padme."

"Goodnight, Obi Wan."

-----

Obi Wan walked into the family's quarters to find Shmi on her knees beside Artoo. In her hands were a pair of model X-Wing fighters, which Luke had brought her a few days before. Artoo was apparently playing the part of the Death Star, and the X-Wing pilots were, in fact, Luke and Wedge. The scene, so similar to the one that he and Anakin had witnessed with little Ani on Coruscant, stabbed at him, but he showed no outward reaction, quickly bringing his emotions under control.

"Hi, Grandpa," Shmi looked up with a smile.

"Hello, Little One," he forced a smile as he moved toward the couch and lowered himself onto it.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing important," he assured her. "Go back to blowing up Artoo."

The droid let out a furious squawk of protest, and she smiled, setting the toys down. Reaching up to give his domed head an affectionate pat, she said, "I think I'll let him live this time."

"Oh, good. Wouldn't be the same around here without him," Obi Wan winked.

"Threepio wouldn't know what to do with himself," Shmi observed, wrinkling her nose thoughtfully.

"Probably not."

"How was the High Command meeting?" she asked, climbing to her feet.

Obi Wan rubbed his eyes and sighed. "It was all right."

"Now what happened?" she smirked, skipping over to the couch, where she flopped down beside him.

"They want me to take command of Echo Base when it's finished being built," he explained. Han and Luke had discovered the remote ice-planet of Hoth almost two years ago, shortly after the Battle of Yavin. High Command had quickly agreed to Luke's suggestion that the planet might make an ideal location for a new, permanent base of operations for the Rebel Alliance. Engineers had been contracted to plan and build the underground outpost, and with that work nearing its completion, debate had begun over who was to take command.

"Senator Bel Iblis, too?" she raised her eyebrows.

"No…well, he's willing to go along with it, I think, but he'd rather someone else," he answered.

"Because you're a Jedi," she sighed.

"Mmm. He didn't really trust me in the old days, either," nodded her grandfather.

"Want me to talk to him?" she asked impishly.

"What?" he laughed.

"I'm cute. Nobody can resist a cute kid," she grinned.

"Did Han teach you that?" he asked.

"Yep."

"Well, I don't think it's going to help in this case. Besides, I'm not even sure I want the command," he told her.

"Why not?" she asked.

"There are others more experienced in that sort of thing," he said. "Do you remember General Rieekan?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"He commanded covert operations in the Alderaan system for years. He's also had to evacuate huge numbers of troops or refugees under Imperial attack several times."

"You led big clone armies in the Clone Wars," she said.

"Yes, but that's entirely different from running a stationary installation like Echo Base," he said. "And it was a long time ago."

"I think you can do it just fine," she told him.

"Thank you," he smiled, bending to kiss the top of her plaited hair.

"You're welcome."

"Tell me something."

"Yeah?"

"When did my Little One get so big?" he asked.

"When you weren't looking, I guess," she shrugged.

"That's the truth," he murmured. She was almost five now, and it seemed to him that it had been only days ago that he'd held her for the first time.

"Grandpa?" she looked up with a thoughtful frown.

"Mmm."

"Uncle Luke and Red Squadron will get assigned to Echo Base, won't they?" she asked.

"Most likely. It's too early to know for sure, though," he replied.

"And Aunt Leia and Han would be there," she continued.

"Aunt Leia will. I don't know where Han will be," he said as gently as he could.

"He'll be wherever she is," Shmi smirked.

"I suppose you're right," Obi Wan allowed. "At least that's where he'll most want to be."

"Maybe my parents would be back from Dagobah and they'd come too," she suggested hopefully.

"Little One, it'll be another year before Echo Base is complete. Don't be so concerned with things beyond our control," he said.

"You were just talking about the future," she pointed out.

"Yes, because I have an immediate decision to make which will affect our future. As much as I would like all of us to be together again, there is no way to know. I can't base a decision like this on speculation and hopes that may not come to pass," he explained.

"What does the Force tell you, then?" she asked.

"I don't know. I sense no clear direction yet. I shall have to consider it, meditate. Ask Grandma what she thinks about it," he replied.

"Where is she?" Shmi asked, frowning.

"She's still talking to Uncle Bail and Mon Mothma," he told her.

"She didn't say anything about it in the meeting?" Shmi wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Darling, what your grandma says in those meetings is largely political," he said with a fond smile.

"She doesn't say what she really thinks?" Shmi blinked and stared at him without comprehension.

"Oh, no. She always says what she thinks. But from a political perspective, in this case aimed at keeping the Rebellion running smoothly and its leadership cooperating with one another. She knows where my loyalties lie, of course, and she won't sit still for anyone questioning them. She and your Aunt Leia and Uncle Bail have political reasons for supporting the notion of my taking in this particular command. But that doesn't necessarily mean it's what Grandma wants from a personal point of view. We'll talk about that when she gets home, and then we'll see what happens."

"Don't you know what she wants already?" Shmi's brow crinkled further.

"I have a good idea," he nodded.

"So why do you have to ask her what she thinks?"

"Well," he pulled his lower lip in thought. "I suppose because I've spent the better part of thirty years talking to your grandmother. I may not _have_ to, but it would feel strange if I didn't."

"Like not brushing your teeth before bed?" she asked.

"What?"

"Sometimes I don't. But it tastes yucky in the morning, and then I wish I had," she explained.

"Well--yes--I imagine it is rather like that," he said ponderously. "Wait a moment. Shmi, you know you're supposed to brush your teeth."

"I know, Grandpa," she sighed.

"If your grandmother hears about this, you're going to be on enforced tooth brushing," he told her. "She'll stand there watching you every night and make you."

"Come on, Grandpa."

"'Come on, Grandpa' what?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell her," she said, gripping his arm and peering up at him hopefully.

"I should."

"Please…!"

"I wouldn't have let your father get away with this," he grumbled.

"Grandpa…"

"_No_, now--"

_"Please!"_

"Oh, all right, all right," he looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes.

"I love you, Grandpa," she beamed, settling her head back on his shoulder.

"Of course you do, I let you get away with everything," he replied.

"That's not why," shook her head.

"Oh, then why?" he challenged.

"'Cause you're my grandpa," she shrugged.

"Well, I love you too. Now, you promise me that from now on you're going to brush those teeth before bed," he said with a stern look.

"Okay," she said easily.

"Why do I have the feeling you're going to forget that promise?" he asked.

"I'll try," she grinned.

"I'm sure."

"You know something?"

"What, darling?"

"I'm kinda tired of moving around. I mean, it's fun to go places with Han, but I liked it when we had a house. Or even…on Yavin 4, when everybody was there. Even if I'm not supposed to spend time wishing for stuff, it would still be good to have everybody back in one place. Grandma could make big breakfast again like she used to. And maybe Daddy would teach me the Jedi stuff now. Don't you think that would be good, Grandpa?" she asked with a touch of wistful longing that made his throat ache.

"Yes," he nodded. "I do."


	126. Foreboding

The room was entirely dark except for the small pool of green light in which the Dark Lord now sat contemplating the weapon which had once belonged to Qui-Gon Jinn. In it, he could still detect the resonance of Anakin Kenobi, but it was not the boy's memories which interested him now. The Emperor had ordered the deaths of all Kenobis and set Mara Jade to accomplish the task, but as of yet, the girl had been able to find no trace of Ani. Nor, incidentally, had she been able to eliminate the rest of the family, a fact which left Vader with a certain smug satisfaction. It seemed that his Master doubted his loyalties, and of course Palpatine had a good reason to, but the reason he feared was not the one he _should_ have been concerned about. The Emperor feared that there might be some trace of Anakin Skywalker left within him and that Anakin's loyalty still lay in some twisted way with Obi Wan rather than with himself. The fact was that Vader had a new plan, and Mara Jade's failure to secure Obi Wan would figure nicely into his scheme. Obi Wan would still be his to kill but not before he had discovered for himself where Ani was hiding and captured young Luke as well. Once he had the boys, Obi Wan would die. He had encountered Luke more than once over the past year and a half, and he knew that the younger son was both powerful and volatile. Witnessing the death of his father would propel him to a new level of hatred for Vader, while the older brother's loyalty to Anakin Skywalker would tear the bond between the pair apart and set them against one another. Vader was confident that it would be Ani who survived that battle, but even if it was not, Luke would make a powerful apprentice, and he could easily be manipulated into blaming Palpatine for the death of his father, believing Vader himself to be carrying out the wishes of his Sith Master. In fact, he thought he knew a simple deception that had the power to permanently sway the younger brother's loyalties in his direction. One way or the other, Vader would soon have the son that Obi Wan had denied him. That would leave only Padme. She would be his as well, and she would rule at his side, but before she did, she would pay for her betrayal… 

------

Yoda didn't approve of Ani's efforts to find a way of helping Vader. He felt that the Knight should be focused entirely on his own training and that Vader was an unnecessary and dangerous distraction. Ultimately, he did not forbid Ani to pursue his private goals, saying that the decision was not his to make. The immediate consequences of Yoda's attitude were that whatever knowledge of Jedi healing techniques that the ancient Master might possess wasn't available to Ani and Isaly. This left them solely dependent on extrapolations they could make from Ani's recollections of the encounter on the Death Star and Isaly's knowledge of neural healing. It was clear very early on that the already significant amount of nerve damage Vader had suffered on Mustafar had been exacerbated by the suit's poor fit and malfunctioning mechnos. The more that Ani delved into and examined his recollections of Vader's movements and fighting style on the Death Star, the more obvious it became that the suit itself had been designed as a deterrent to healing the human body trapped inside it. It was like a tower on a penal planet, meant as much to keep well-meaning healers outside as it was to keep Anakin Skywalker confined within it.

"It's just not going to work, Ani," Isaly shook her head in frustration.

"Don't say that," Ani responded with quiet, unwavering determination.

The twins were out picking moss with Yoda while their parents worked. Ani and Isaly were in their bedroom, he crosslegged on the floor while she was seated on the bed with one of the ever-present datapads in hand. She sighed softly and reached down to touch his cheek.

"I'm not giving up. But removing the mechnos isn't going to be enough. He was burned over at least ninety percent of his body. Legs and arms that fit right are only a scratch on the surface. If we're really going to alleviate his suffering, I need to get him out of the suit," she said flatly. "That's the bottom line."

"How? He can't breathe," Ani scrubbed his face with his hand.

"We'd have to start with a lung replacement, I think," she said.

"Is that even possible?"

"I think so," she nodded. "The lungs could be cloned, which should eliminate or at least drastically reduce the possibility of rejection. Cloned body parts were used during the Clone Wars because it was cheaper than growing whole new soldiers. The transplant itself could be done in a hyperbaric chamber."

"A what?" he frowned.

"A hyperbaric chamber," she repeated. "It's a sealed chamber where oxygen can be forced in at greater-than normal pressure and in higher concentration. Essentially a room-sized pressure-suit."

"Isaly, there has to be something else…"

"There isn't, Ani. I'm sorry, but there isn't," she shook her head firmly.

"There _has_ to be. We _have_ to find something. Even if it's nowhere near a full solution. I'll never get him to trust me that far unless I can offer him some sort of proof of our intentions first."

"Anakin, the simple fact that we're going to this extent to try to help him should do that," she sighed.

"He's not rational. He won't believe we're sincere, Isaly. He has no reason to," Ani shook his head.

"Wouldn't the Force tell him that he can trust you?" she asked.

"His ability to perceive intent through the Force has been twisted, corrupted by the Dark Side. If it hadn't been, Palpatine would never have been able to convince him that my father intended to betray the Republic. He's paranoid…Isaly, I don't think he's entirely sane anymore," Ani said, ducking his head.

"That doesn't make me any more confident in this plan, Ani," she replied pointedly.

"Trust in the Force," he said.

"No," she shook her head again. "Don't dismiss me like that. I'm not a Jedi. I need more than vague platitudes."

"I'm not dismissing you. The Force is not just for Jedi. It guides you as much as me. But if that's not enough for you, trust me," Ani said.

"I've always trusted you," she smiled weakly. "We'll find something. I'll…try to come at it from another perspective."

He smiled and nodded, "I think I need to do the same."

Her smile became a bit more certain, and she gave the datapad she was reading another look. Then she set it down, shaking her head a little. Pushing it aside, she closed her eyes, and Ani could feel her slowly clearing her mind. He lowered his head quietly. She may not have been a Jedi, but she had certainly picked up a thing or two in the years that she had lived with them.

He closed his own eyes, turning his focus inward. With a few slow breaths, he cleared his mind. Then he began to isolate himself from his surroundings, focusing solely on the Force. As he followed its flow, it led him outward again, beyond Dagobah, and the current grew cold--frigid. He resisted the urge to pull back, instead completely surrendering control. When there was no thought left of discomfort, no fear of what he might find, an image swam into focus before him. Gradually, he discerned the shape of hooded cloak, and the figure within it slowly raised its head.

The eyes were lurid yellow, smoking with the Dark Side of the Force. The face was chillingly familiar, and the ice it drove through Ani's heart was more agonizing than the arctic flow of the Force which now connected them. He looked back with the calm dispassion of a Jedi.

_Uncle._

Vader's lips curved in a slow, dangerous smile. _The resemblance is deceptive._

_I don't think so. Uncle Anakin, let me help you._

_Help me…? _Vader sneered. _You are the one who needs my help, Anakin. Come to me. Let me show you the true power of the Force._

_I've seen the Dark Side, my uncle. I want no more of it. Neither do you,_ Ani replied.

_Sentiment clouds your perception, Anakin. Compassion makes you weak. The universe and the Force have no place for such feeble emotions. This is why the Jedi continue to fail. Why your rebellion will fall and you will join me,_ Vader said, his cloak billowing as he moved closer.

_No. Uncle Anakin. Compassion is what binds you and I. What always has. It was your compassion which overcame death and saved my life all those years ago. Compassion for me, for my mother. For my father. Remember,_ Ani urged.

_I remember that Obi Wan betrayed me!_ roared Vader, halting his advance as his face twisted with rage and pain.

_You forced him to! He didn't want to fight you on Mustafar. They went to bring you home, not to kill you. Palpatine is the one who betrayed you. He's made you a slave and a prisoner. My parents loved you--they still do. And so do I. Don't force my hand the way you did my father's. I _can _help you, I promise,_ Ani said, holding out his hand in invitation.

_How would you help me, boy?_ Vader's tone was still mocking, but Ani thought he detected a slight shift in the Sith Lord's emotions.

There was only one answer he could give to that question now. He and Isaly had only been able to find one plan which had even a reasonable possibility of success. He knew that he would not be likely to have another opportunity to talk to Vader this way. Prolonged through the Force was difficult, and it had probably only occurred now because Vader had already been focused on him when Ani began his meditation. Immersed in the Dark Side or not, Anakin Skywalker was still far and away the most powerful Force user known to exist. Ani himself could not have initiated this discussion across the huge void of space which separated them.

_My wife and I have been studying healing since the Death Star. We think that we can repair some of the nerve damage you've suffered, Uncle, but we have to get you out of that suit first,_ he said.

_That is not possible,_ Vader said dismissively.

_Isaly thinks it is,_ Ani replied. _She thinks that we could clone new lungs for you and transplant them. Once you could breathe, you'd have no need of the suit. Then we could use a combination of bacta and Force healing to treat your other injuries._

_Isaly?_ Vader repeated, and Ani realized that it must have been the first time that he had actually heard his wife's name.

_I met her in Mos Espa,_ he offered, hoping that a simple revelation like this might encourage Vader to trust him. _She was working at Watto's shop._

_Your feelings for her are stong,_ Vader mused.

A new chill passed through Ani, but he held himself still in the Force. He felt Vader press his mind, searching, but he didn't resist. His initial instinct was to break the contact, to seal Vader off from anything which might be used to threaten or harm Isaly, but he also knew how much Anakin had longed for the kind of relationship that he and Isaly now shared. That longing might enable him to reach what remained of Anakin now.

_Yes, they are,_ he said simply.

_Yes…for her…and for…your children. _

_Uncle--_

_I see you are like your father in this way as well,_ Vader cut him off angrily.

_What?_

_You sought to hide them from me as he hid you,_ Vader accused.

_That's not true. Search your feelings; you know it isn't. I've never hidden anything from you, Uncle Anakin. My daughter's name is Shmi Skywalker Kenobi. My sons' names are Anakin and Obi-Wan. All of them were named for you in one way or another, _Ani said calmly.

_Bring them to me,_ Vader said with calculating coolness.

_What?! I can't do that!_

_The Emperor will find them if you don't. He is already scouring the galaxy for you. All of you,_ Vader said.

_So you expect me to deliver them to you instead?_ Ani asked.

_Bring them to me, and I will hide them. Just as I would have hidden you and your mother,_ offered Vader.

_Uncle, I can't._

_If you will not trust me, Anakin, why should I have any reason to trust you? Why should I accept your help?_ Vader asked, continuing to press his mind.

_I…_ Ani broke off, his thoughts whirling in confusion. Vader pressed in further, dissecting Ani's thoughts and feelings as if he were a specimen in some Force-driven experiment. Again, he forced himself not to resist, focusing instead on clearing his mind as he tried to figure out exactly what the Dark Lord was searching for--

Searching.

_No!_

Desperately, he closed off his mind and broke contact. His awareness slammed abruptly and violently back to the small room on Dagobah where he and Isaly were sitting, and he toppled backward, disoriented. For a few moments, he could only lay there watching the ceiling spin above his head. Isaly scrambled off the bed and knelt beside him, leaning over him worriedly.

"Ani? What happened?"

"Vader."

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My apologies to readers for the unexpected lag time between updates. As you might have guessed, the holiday season has snuck up on me, leaving me with less time than usual for One Path. I think this is an okay point to put the fic on hold; some tension with Vader, but not a real cliffhanger or anything. So, after talking with Aruna, I've decided to put the fic on temporary hiatus for the holidays. I had been hoping that we would make it to ESB first, but unfortunately, that is not going to happen. So, Aruna and I wish you all a happy and safe holiday season. Rest assured that One Path will return in 2008. Until then, may the Force be with you.

--Lionchilde


	127. Stranded

Notes specifically for this chapter:

The Ecarua and Aidea Systems will not be found on any map of the GFFA. I spent a considerable amount of time with the help of Aruna and some other readers researching what we know about planetary topography, locations, and other considerations that will become relevant during the ESB section of the story. My ultimate conclusion was that there were no two systems close enough together and with the correct topography to meet the needs of One Path. I therefore made them up. I know that some people object to "made up" planets in a galaxy as developed as this one, however, my only response to that is going to be, "somebody else made up those planets to begin with." Any questions about the made up systems in this story will have to be deferred until ESB is complete. At that time I would be happy to explain anything that is still a concern.

Extended Author's notes at the end of the chapter. Some recent reader concerns are addressed there. Reading them may answer certain questions, including "when is the next chapter coming?" I have had to make changes in my posting procedure. Thank you for your patience.

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"Maybe I should take the twins back to the Fleet," Isaly suggested, hugging herself against the sudden chill she felt as Ani finished explaining his encounter with Vader.

"Maybe," Ani said slowly. "I don't think he found us, but I don't want to take chances with the boys. Now that he's aware of them, he'll want to use them the same way he hopes he can still use me."

"Powerful, Vader is," Yoda murmured in agreement. "Far more powerful than you are in the Force, young Kenobi. Back to Obi Wan the twins should be sent, and with them Isaly should remain.

"No," she shook her head firmly. "I'm not leaving Ani alone here; we both have tasks to complete."

Yoda slowly closed his eyes and shook his head, and Isaly knew that once again, the ancient Jedi was at a loss to understand the stubborn refusal of the Kenobis to let go of one another. From what she had been told by both Padme and Obi Wan, Yoda had never understood what compelled them to remain together after the fall of the Republic, and the powerful emotional bonds that all of the Kenobis now had with one another would have been not only discouraged by the Old Jedi Order but seen as dangerous. It had to be quite confusing for Yoda to teach Ani now; he had seen enough to realize, much as Obi Wan and Padme had come to, that the Old Order's rigid adherence to its doctrine of nonattachment had been a contributing factor to its demise. He must have seen that Ani's love for his family was not what placed him in danger of temptation by the Dark Side, but after a lifetime of teaching the Jedi Arts according to the tenants of the Old Order, the Kenobis evolving philosophy of the Force often mystified him. Still, he was wise enough to realize that he couldn't make this decision for them.

"Yours the choice is," he said reluctantly. Then, apparently sensing that the young couple wished privacy, he turned and walked off into the twins' room.

Ani and Isaly watched him go, then regarded one another silently for a few seconds. Then Ani allowed one corner of his mouth to turn up in a half smile and reached out to touch her cheek. She didn't flinch at the touch, a fact which surprised them both given that Vader's role as a threat to their happiness had just reasserted itself in a powerful and undeniable way. She brought her own hand up to cover his, knowing without having to be told that he'd begun to think Yoda was right. For the first time, Vader had truly managed to frighten him.

"Mom would have wanted to come back," she said.

"And Dad would have told her not to," he replied.

"She wouldn't have listened anyway," Isaly assured him.

He smiled very faintly. "I know."

"If I don't come back, you'll be stranded on Dagobah for who knows how long," she said.

"I don't know how long I'll need to be here anyway," he reminded her. "Master Windu and I still have much to do before I'm ready to duel Vader again."

"All the more reason I don't want to leave you alone that long!" she shook her head stubbornly.

"I'll be all right," he promised.

"I won't."

"Isaly, no one is as important to me as you are. I need you _and_ the children to be safe," he said intently.

"And I need to be with you," she insisted. "Besides, if I go back I may be able to talk with the Fleet healers about what we've learned here, but I'm still going to need you. You're the only one who has any real first-hand knowledge of how Vader moves in that suit and what it might be doing to his body."

"My father was there. He can tell you the same things I could," Ani pointed out.

"Do you really want to put him through that?" she asked. Given a choice between the two, she would rather have asked Obi Wan to help her, but she knew that her husband would have chosen to explore his own memories further before ever asking his father to do what he had been doing on Dagobah. Obi Wan and Anakin had been closer even than Luke and Ani now were, and he had not only watched Vader dismember Ani but had to contend with the memory of his own actions on Mustafar--taking the same three limbs from his best friend and brother that Vader had taken from Ani, and then leaving him to live or die in the volcanic flows as the Force decreed.

He sighed. "No. No, I don't."

"And would you leave me if our positions were reversed?" she asked.

"Yes, if I thought that knowing I was out of harm's way would allow you to focus on your training," he replied.

"It's a good thing I'm not you then," she said flatly.

"Isaly…"

"Yoda did say it was my decision," she said.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," he shook his head. "You know I wouldn't."

"You need me as much as I need to be here, Anakin," she said. "You can't say you don't."

He lowered his gaze for a moment then looked back at her stubbornly. "And if Vader has discovered where we are?"

"Then the Force will have led him to us. Don't you keep telling me to trust the Force?" she arched an eyebrow.

"That's not what I--"

"What did you mean, then? Trust the Force when you want to do something I don't agree with and trust you when you don't agree with me?" she held his gaze firmly.

"I would hope that you trust me all the time," he replied softly.

"I do," she smiled. "And you trust me, don't you?"

"Always."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Obi Wan asked as he, Padme, and Shmi walked into the bustling hangar.

Padme gave his cheek an affectionate caress with the tip of her finger. "It's just a recruiting mission. Han and Leia will be there; I'll be fine."

"I know you'll be fine. I still don't see why it's necessary for you to go," he said.

"I want to go," she smiled as they neared the Falcon's docking bay.

Han ducked through the ship's hatch and clanked hurriedly down the loading ramp. He automatically reached to take her bag and she absently handed it to him, turning to Obi Wan while Shmi gave her grandfather a quick hug, then attached herself to Han's side. Having missed out on the last several missions that the former mercenary captain had been on for the Rebellion, she wouldn't be dissuaded from accompanying him this time. Obi Wan had considered overruling Han's decision to allow her to go, but doing so would have fuelled unwanted tensions and implied that he didn't take Han's role as his granddaughter's mentor seriously. The fact was that he had become quite willing to take the relationship seriously once Han himself had accepted the responsibility as more than a game he was playing to keep Shmi happy. He also trusted Solo to keep her out of harm's way, just as he trusted the man to watch over his wife and daughter whether they wanted his protection or not.

Still, as the unlikely pair disappeared up the boarding ramp, Obi Wan's expression shifting to reveal the worry that he hadn't wanted to let their granddaughter see. Padme smiled and slipped her hand into his.

"Be careful," he murmured.

"I will. Since when do you worry so much?" she asked gently.

"About you? Since Tatooine," he replied.

"I'm not going to Mos Espa this time," she winked. She was, in fact, going to Ecarua 4, which was being used as a neutral meeting place between the Ecarua system's three sentient species. One of those races was already covertly supplying the Rebellion; the second had thus far remained carefully neutral, but the human government of Ecarua 2 had openly supported Palpatine's regime until very recently, when an increase in taxes and restrictions on intrasystem trade had seemingly spurred them to reevaluate that stance. It was quite possible that the entire thing was an Imperial trap, but the felinoid inhabitants of Ecarua 5, the Lasishi, possessed weapons technology and other resources which made High Command feel that the potential benefits outweighed the risk of sending Padme and Leia.

"I know. But I have a bad feeling. Just--don't do anything foolish. And stay close to Han, all right?" he urged.

She nodded and kissed him, slipping her arms around his neck. He held her tightly for a long moment, then pressed his lips against her temple.

"I'll see you in a week," she said softly.

"I love you."

"Always have," she replied as she pulled back.

He touched her cheek gently and gave a half-smile. "Since Tatooine."

-------

Vader stood again on the massive bridge of the _Executor,_ staring out the viewport in front of him at the vast expanse of space beyond. Somewhere out there, his nephew was hiding--no. Not his nephew. Anakin Skywalker's nephew. Anakin Skywalker's namesake. The son of Obi Wan Kenobi, who like his father before him had turned on Darth Vader. He had no reason to trust Ani now, no reason to believe anything the boy said. He was a traitor--a Jedi--the enemy.

_From my point of view, it's the Jedi who are evil! _

Well then you truly are lost!

I don't think so. Uncle Anakin, I can help you…Uncle Anakin, please! I want to help you…they came to take you home, not to kill you…You can still take me home! 

Sound and image crashed through Vader's mind, a storm over which he suddenly had no control. Mustafar. Coruscant. The temple. The boy.

_He was alive when I left him! _

Let me help you. 

His eyes had seen nothing so clearly for more than twenty years, but the tear-stained face of four-year-old Anakin Kenobi rose out of his memory now. Standing amid the carnage in the temple--carnage that Anakin Skywalker had caused--no. Not Anakin Skywalker. Anakin was dead! There was only Vader--it was Vader's hand that massacred the children.

_I want to help you! _

You can still take me home!

They came to take you home, not to kill you.

Padme! Is Ani with you? Is he all right?

My son died in the temple. You killed him as surely as if you had driven this blade through his heart. 

But he wasn't. He never had been. The hood fell back and Vader stared into the tearful blue eyes of the young man who should have been his son.

_Anakin, I know that we have had our differences. I know that--you felt betrayed when I left the Jedi Order. I can only ask you again to forgive me for that," Obi Wan gave his head a slight shake. "You are the best friend that I have ever had--the best friend I will ever have. There is no one else I can ask such a thing, no one else I would I trust with my son. _

It would be my honor, Obi Wan. I give you my word, I will care for him as if he were my own son. 

Ani had lied to him too; they had all lied to him.

_That's not true. Search your feelings; you know it isn't. I've never hidden anything from you, Uncle Anakin. My daughter's name is Shmi Skywalker Kenobi. My sons' names are Anakin and Obi-Wan. All of them were named for you in one way or another…_

It had been almost a week since his mind had touched Ani's through the Force, and still that statement lingered in his thoughts. It remained there far more strongly, in fact, than any of the nonsense the boy had said about trying to help him. He didn't believe that in any case. The children, though…a few well-placed questions had informed him that that much, at least, had been the truth. Anakin and Obi-Wan were predictable enough given Ani's attachments to his father and Anakin Skywalker, but the girl's name…Shmi…?

"My Lord."

He whirled to stare into the distinctly frightened face of his flagship's current captain.

_Under the circumstances, I'd say the ability to fly this thing is irrelevant._

"Imperial intelligence reports that the Rebel Alliance is sending Padme Kenobi to Ecarua 4. Princess Leia, Han Solo, and the girl are with her."

"The girl?"

"The oldest of the Kenobi children, Lord Vader."

_Shmi._  
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Happy New Year everyone!

Welcome back to One Path. To kick off 2008, I would firstly like to thank my creative partner, Aruna7, without whom I can honestly say that One Path would not exist in the form that it is today. In fact, without Aruna's support, creative assistance, knowledge of the Star Wars galaxy, and willingness to brainstorm this project with me until all hours, One Path probably would not have made it any farther than the marriage of Obi Wan and Padme at the end of AotC. I could not have gone through the harrowing hours I spent writing RotS and certain parts of ANH without Aruna's support. (And cookies, and frying pans, and racks upon racks of Palpy clones.)

I would also like to thank all of those who have invested their time as beta-readers either officially or unofficially for this project: Profsilverback, Lhinneill, phantom-jedi1, and TheNRGBunny. I know that my grammar is less than perfect and I have a tendency to miss mistakes no matter how many times I re-read something, whether I read it out loud, backwards, upside down or whatever other strategies one might suggest. My hat is off to you.

Most of all, I would like to thank everyone who has been reading this monster. Whether you have ever left a comment or not, make no mistake, I am addressing you with sincere gratitude. While I would write One Path even if no one ever read it but myself, it means a great deal to me that the story has been well-received by my fellow Star Wars fans. Certain readers deserve special thanks as well.

To Polgarawolf on LJ, whose feedback is always both encouraging and challenging to me as an author and who, other than Aruna, probably understands what I'm trying to accomplish in this project most clearly, both in terms of the Kenobis and Vader. Your insights are always valuable to me, and our emails have provided hours of enjoyment, fodder for thought, and lots and lots of creative and unique ways to kill Palpy. I really could not have written a certain up-coming section of the story without your input.

Thanks also to phantom-jedi1 on ff.n for consistently catching my errors and honest feedback; to LealynnKenobi (aka Kenobifan) for reviewing even when LJ didn't want her to and for her unwavering enthusiasm for the project; to pronker for reminding me more than once to post chapters on ff.n once they'd hit LJ and steady, meaningful feedback; and to SexyScottishAccent who has been one of our most consistent and avid readers since the story was posted on ff.n.

I don't know exactly what is in store for you this year. I can tell you that we will finish One Path. I have several other projects in the works, some of which have been mentioned on my LJ and some of which have been kept secret by Aruna and myself (Mwhahahahahaha.) To the end of accomplishing something on each of them, this year, I have created a writing schedule. You can find a link to it on my author page. The next time you are wondering when a One Path update is due out, please check it.  
It is organized by week rather than by specific date, but the LJ post will give you a detailed explanation of why that is.

The only times that the schedule should change would be to accommodate TheNRGBunny, who has volunteered to be the official beta for the story. (Thank her, folks. I just sent her like four chapters in two days.) If that happens, I have decided that the only sane way to handle it would be to simply skip posting One Path that week and wait to do an update the next time one is due. I know this may make readers unhappy, but unfortunately Kim and I occasionally get sideswiped real life.

My goal is to have the story complete by the end of March, which means it will probably be finished around September if previous experience with this universe is any indication of what the future holds. (Hence One Path appears on the schedule after March) About all I'm sure of is that Anakin will be redeemed, which was always a given. Mara Jade will be returning, and we will be meeting a new face or two. Luke fans will be happy to note that we'll be seeing more of him in ESB and RotJ; after all, it wouldn't be Star Wars without him. And, as always, this is first and foremost an Obidala tale.

Other notes:

These have been added to the fic's introduction pages, but I know that not everyone goes to read those on a regular basis, and I really wanted to address a few things in a way that the readers in question (and others who might have the same feelings) would stand a chance of seeing.

I recently received some concrit from One Path readers in anonymous reviews. Since the reviews are anonymous, I can't respond directly to the feedback, but I would like the opportunity to do so. I always welcome and respond to all feedback on One Path, whether positive or negative. Feedback is what helps me to improve myself as a writer.

One reader writers:

"_They're all clueless. Jedi males are no exception." _

_**It's things like this that reinforce the negative stereotypes that plague  
women.**_

We of course have no desire to offend anyone with the writing of this story. However, that particular line was included with the purpose of injecting realism into the story and adding a bit of humor to what was otherwise a pretty harrowing chapter to write. I have no social agenda in writing One Path; it's a story meant to be entertainment and therefore fun for me to write. However, where both I and my partner live, women say things like this. In fact, I'm not in any way sorry to say that _I_ have said things like this, either to myself or to certain friends who would understand the spirit in which it was meant. If it reinforces a negative stereotype, then the issue is with the real women that the line was meant to reflect. Also, given the circumstances, the age of the characters, and the fact that the person whose line it was had a good deal of maturing left to do, the line was in character, and we felt it was appropriate.

A second reader feels that the children portrayed in One Path are inauthentic because they are too articulate for their ages. Again, this was a choice that we made specifically for this story and we felt that it reflected something genuine about who the Kenobi children are. Their parents/grandparents are Obi Wan and Padme Kenobi. She was the elected ruler of her world at the age of fourteen. She was serving in the Legislative Youth program at the age of eight, and was known to be a prodigious child. Her niece, Pooja Naberrie was said to have been even more articulate and followed in Padme's footsteps, also participating in the Legislative Youth program at an early age and going on to represent the Chommell sector in the Imperial Senate until Palpatine dissolved the body in 0 ABY. He was a Jedi Master and was also known to be unusually intelligent and articulate for his age. It stands to reason then that the Kenobi children would have a very high likelihood of inheriting that particular genetic trait. Also, studies clearly show that children who spend the majority of their formative years associating with adults rather than other children tend to speak sooner and be able to express themselves more clearly, especially when those adults do not talk down to them or use "special" language with them. My own personal experiences indicate that this research is valid, and while these children are far different from me, there is something of every author's personal experience in a story like this. Also, all of these children have grown up essentially in the middle of a civil war, which would by necessity make them more mature than counterparts in most countries on Earth today.

In regard to Jareth Tyrn, whom readers will meet in an upcoming chapter, while he is not a Kenobi and therefore does not necessarily have their genetic predisposition toward precocious behavior, he is only half human, and the development I have laid out for his mother's species indicates that he would be more mature in several ways than a typical human child of the same age.

We do, of course appreciate the feedback and I welcome further comments in the future. I just wanted to assure readers again that nothing in One Path is done without what we feel is sound reasoning. This project was not something that we undertook on a whim, and while we want it to be fun, we also want it to be a quality piece of writing. Quality, to Aruna7 and myself, means that characters, their behaviors, actions, and motivations, are always discussed and agreed upon long before readers see the chapter in question.

Again, thank you all for your patience during this latest hiatus. And now. This is where the fun begins.


	128. Priorities

Ani watched the ship lift off with mingled sadness and relief. He knew that it was best for the twins to go back to his parents. They would be safely hidden in the Rebel Fleet, beyond Vader's reach even if the Sith had managed to locate him. They would also have his father and mother to guide and care for them, not to mention Leia, Luke, and Han. It would be good for Shmi to be with her brothers again, good for the twins to get to know her. There was a part of him that even still wished Isaly would remain with the children. Yet, he was a Kenobi, and if there was anything that all Kenobis knew, it was that none of them would be quite complete unless all of them were together. He had felt the pain of forced separation already. He remembered it from the Clone Wars, even if he had only been a child, and all this time on Dagobah he had ached for the presence of his oldest child. He felt it more keenly now, as the only Kenobi left here. Isaly had been right to insist on coming with him here in the first place, and despite his desire to keep her safe, he was glad that she would be coming back.

He sighed softly and looked down at Yoda, whose green skin had grown slightly dull. His long ears drooped a little, too, and Ani hid a smile. The Master recovered his usual pose of Jedi serenity by the time he turned his head to look up at his student. Ani expected as much, but he was comforted by the brief display of emotion; he had begun to wonder whether he had imagined the closeness he had felt with Yoda as a boy or if Yoda's kindness to him then had been some sort of act. In his heart he knew better, but it was hard to keep believing what his feelings told him when he dropped to bed at night exhausted after spending the day with a Yoda who was as sympathetic as a tree-stump.

"Safe, they will be," murmured Yoda.

"Yes, Master," Ani nodded.

Yoda started back toward the houses, leaning on his gimmer stick more heavily than usual as he walked. Ani followed, frowning slightly at that, but as they reached the door to Yoda's and he would have ducked inside behind his teacher, Yoda stopped.

"With Master Windu I must speak," he told Ani, his tone faintly troubled.

Ani felt a spike of both excitement and trepidation at that statement. His initial interest in coming to Dagobah had been to learn what Yoda could teach him about his visions and his intuitive abilities. Once he had admitted to himself how problematic his feelings toward Palpatine had become for him, he had also known that Yoda was the only one left who might help him. His father, although a remarkably capable teacher, was too close to Anakin Skywalker, and in this case he was too close to Ani as well. He had also come to Dagobah to learn from Mace Windu, and while he wanted that training, he was not sure that he was ready for it now.  
Mace had been one of the most formidable swordsmen ever produced by the Jedi Order. His Vapaad had allowed him to stalemate Palpatine on the night that the Republic ultimately fell, but Ani had also heard time and again from Obi Wan how dangerous Vapaad could be. It was in a sense, the completion of the Juyo form of lightsaber combat, but it was also more. Vapaad was a philosophical divergence, a shift from the typical Jedi view of combat, wherein one is required to set aside aggression and excitement. It not only allowed but required a Jedi to use those feelings, to walk the edge between the Light and Dark Sides of the Force. This was why most of its practitioners had fallen to the Dark Side during the Clone wars and why only Mace himself had ever truly mastered it.

Ani knew that Palpatine would try to use his own aggression against him. He knew that if he allowed it to gain control of him, his own desire for revenge against the Emperor would be his own undoing. He wasn't sure he could learn from the Master of Vapaad safely without having fully dealt with the hunger for vengeance that still burned in his gut. There was little else that could have troubled Yoda in regard to Master Windu. If the two teachers needed to confer, then the discussion would most likely be about him. However, he also knew that Yoda had just dismissed him. What happened between his teachers was beyond his control, and if they determined that he was ready to begin his instruction in lightsaber combat, there was little he could do except to trust their judgment.

"Yes, Master," Ani repeated, turning aside. He walked across the narrow stretch of swamp between his house and Yoda's. Once outside his own empty home, he lowered himself to the ground and closed his eyes.

He wondered if this was what it felt like for his mother, waiting on Naboo while Obi Wan was off fighting in the Clone Wars. Of course, his grandparents' house in Theed had been far from empty, but he imagined that for Padme, the warmth and bustle of that house had only made her loneliness more intense. With Obi Wan gone, there was a part of her that simply wasn't alive. He had sensed that in her even as a child, and later when Leia was gone, he had felt it again. Now it seemed to him that his own experiences mirrored hers as they often had his father's or Anakin Skywalker's. Only for him, the pain of separation from his child had come first, before the oddly empty sensation left in him by Isaly's absence. The reflection wasn't perfect, of course. He had no immediate reason to doubt whether he would see his wife again, and his mother had never endured a forced separation from all three of her children. He wondered about that. The parallel didn't particularly surprise him; his study of the Force had led him to expect and even look for such patterns. Things repeated for a reason, and although there was no precedent that he was aware of for a Force-sensitive family like the Kenobis, it made an innate kind of sense to him that an intergenerational pattern of some kind would begin to emerge as the Force used the Kenobis as the seed of new kind of Jedi Order. The Force was not static, however. As life itself was not static, the energy field which both created and was created by life would shift and move. Patterns might exist, but they would never be perfectly symmetric, because the life around them would influence and alter them. What Ani wondered, though, was exactly what lesson he was supposed to learn from this pattern, both in the ways that his experiences mirrored his mother's and in the ways that they did not.

He took a breath and opened himself further to the flow of the Force, considering. He had always known that he was as much Padme's son as Obi Wan's. Because they were both Jedi, it was sometimes easier for him to see the similarities that ran between himself and his father. Still, Padme had easily been as big of an influence on him as Obi Wan, both genetically and environmentally. Unlike his father, Ani had no dislike of politics, nor did he immediately mistrust politicians outside of his own family. Like Padme, he was inclined to see the best in people, and he was as family-centered as any Naberrie. It had been Padme, not Obi Wan, who had initially accepted Anakin Skywalker, and despite the role that his feelings for her had played in his fall to the Dark Side, he believed that his mother would still be the key to reaching what remained of Anakin beneath Vader's mask. After all, she had been the one who sent Anakin after Obi Wan just before Ani was born, and she had been the impetus of Anakin's desire to save Ani.

Knowing all that, though, he still had no idea how he might be able to use Anakin's attachment to Padme to help him. Perhaps he wasn't supposed to. It was entirely possible that all he had to do was wait and watch for the Force to present him with the opportunity he needed. Yet if that was the case, why he did he continue to feel as if he was missing something--something important?

"Not everything the Force has to teach you is about Anakin Skywalker," Qui-Gon said suddenly.

Ani opened his eyes, a half smile forming on his lips as he looked up at his friend and mentor. "Haven't seen much of you lately. I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten me."

"I'm never far, Ani. But you aren't the only one I have to concern myself with anymore," Qui-Gon replied.

"I thought you said you weren't going to interfere in Shmi's upbringing," Ani arched an eyebrow.

"What makes you think I was talking about your daughter?" asked the Jedi Spirit.

"Who else?"

"There's a whole galaxy out there. You Kenobis don't have a monopoly on the interest of Force ghosts," Qui-Gon admonished lightly.

"Well, I know that," Ani sighed good-naturedly. "But I know you watch her, whether you interact with her or not. My father said once that she was special to you, but he didn't tell me exactly why."

Qui-Gon only shrugged. "All of you are important to me."

"But you weren't watching one of us," Ani persisted.

"Not this time. Not yet anyway," Qui-Gon smirked.

"What does that mean?" Ani frowned.

"You'll have to be patient," Qui-Gon replied.

"Qui-Gon, I'm always patient," Ani reminded him.

"Good, then it shouldn't be a problem in this case," he said.

Ani shook his head. "Okay, I give up. So what did you mean just now? About my mother and my Uncle Anakin?"

"Ani, you've become so focused on helping Anakin that you are forgetting yourself," Qui-Gon warned.

"Now you sound like Yoda," Ani shook his head in mild disgust.

"Yoda isn't wrong," Qui-Gon said firmly.

"He isn't right either!" insisted Ani.

"Not entirely," Qui-Gon smiled faintly.

"I _have_ to help him, Qui-Gon. You know I do," Ani said.

"But not at the expense of yourself! Remember what your father said to you before you left Naboo, Anakin," advised Qui-Gon.

"I haven't forgotten," Ani promised, raking a hand through his already unkempt hair. "So tell me what you meant."

"What do you think your mother would tell you about what is happening here? About Palpatine and your Jedi training?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I…" he blinked. "She…would probably say the same things that Isaly has been saying."

"Which is?"

"That…hating Palpatine for what he's done is a normal human reaction, and I shouldn't be trying so hard not to feel that way," Ani said slowly.

"And…?" prompted Qui-Gon.

"And what?" Ani frowned.

Qui-Gon massaged his eyes with the tips of his fingers. "Ani, there were reasons that the Force drew your parents together. Neither of them was a means to an end. Obi Wan had as much to learn from Padme as she had from him, and so do her children."

"Of course we do! But, Qui-Gon, I can't go to face Palpatine with the intent to kill him," protested Ani.

"What else do you expect to do to him?" asked Qui-Gon flatly.

"I mean for revenge. If I'm going to kill him, it has to be…because…because he's too dangerous to be kept alive, like Master Windu told Uncle Anakin that night," Ani swallowed hard against the memory.

"Then don't allow yourself to take revenge," Qui-Gon said.

"What?"

"Long before the two of them were married, your father learned to love without allowing his feelings to control him. Love is not the only thing that a Jedi must be able to feel without falling to the Dark Side, Ani," Qui-Gon told him patiently.

"But Master Yoda--"

"Didn't you just finish telling me that Yoda wasn't right about Anakin?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yes, but…" Ani bit his lip fearfully.

"Yoda knows that the ideas and philosophy of the Old Jedi Order weren't enough. That doesn't mean he's entirely sure what the new path of the Jedi should be. He can only teach you what he knows. Learn from him, Anakin Kenobi. But do not forget what _you_ know."


	129. Waiting

Obi Wan and Bail were waiting in the hangar as Isaly and the boys descended the ramp. She frowned, her heart tightening as she realized that Shmi wasn't with them. She assumed that her daughter must be somewhere with Han and Leia, and she wasn't particularly concerned, but she had been anticipating a full reunion with her family. The twins pulled their hands away from hers and ran the rest of the way down, not at all shy or hesitant to greet the grandfather that they hadn't seen in so long. She smiled as she watched him go down on one knee to hug them. Picking up her own pace, she hurried to meet them and slid her arms around Bail's neck while Obi Wan was still busy with her children. They hugged tightly, then turned to watch as the twins attempted unsuccessfully to pull their switching routine on their grandfather.

"I don't know what possesses them to try that; it never works," Isaly sighed.

"It would if we weren't all Jedi here, wouldn't it, boys," Obi Wan chuckled.

"Mommy not a Jedi," Junior frowned.

"No, she's your mother," Obi Wan winked. Then he straightened, his expression shifting to become serious as he placed his hands on Isaly's cheeks. "Are you all right?"  
She nodded, letting her father-in-law draw her into a tight hug. As he did, she wrapped her arms around him, trying to keep herself from trembling by returning the embrace just as fiercely. She hadn't dared break radio silence with the possibility of Vader searching for them; even if Ani didn't think that Vader had discovered their whereabouts, she had had no way to know for sure. So Obi Wan hadn't known that they were coming until they actually arrived. She knew that he could tell there was something wrong, even if he hadn't simply guessed by the fact that Ani wasn't with them. He was the closest thing that she had ever had to a father, and the simple feel of his protective embrace made her throat tighten with relief. She couldn't cry, though--not here, not now--so she buried her face in his shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply until the trembling passed and her tears receded.

"It's all right," Obi Wan told her in a low, soothing tone. "You're all safe now."  
Isaly nodded again and forced herself to pull back. Bail was reacquainting himself with the boys, who were no more shy with him than they had been with their grandfather, though it was clear that they didn't feel the immediate connection with him that they obviously did with Obi Wan. When they were through, her father in law rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Come on now, you all look exhausted and famished," he said softly.

"Isn't Mom here?" Isaly asked, ignoring the statement as she managed to get her emotions back under control and realized how many other members of the family were missing.

"No," Obi Wan shook his head. "She went with Han and Leia on a recruiting mission. They'll be back next week."

"Shmi is with them?"

He nodded.

Isaly couldn't say why, but the idea of Shmi on this mission left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach and a sour taste at the back of her throat. "When did they leave?"

"Early this morning," Obi Wan replied, steering her firmly toward the hangar doors. "Isaly, come on. We'll talk about it some more after you've all eaten something and rested."

"Yes, Dad," she smiled wanly. There was a strange comfort in letting him shepherd them all out of the hangar and down the stark white halls to the rooms that he and Padme shared. It wasn't the farm or even the familiar quarters that they had all shared on Massassi Station. Still, it was _home_ because he and Padme made it home, and being here meant safety, not only for herself but for her children. It also meant respite, and she was all too happy to allow her father-in-law to take charge.

He must have desperately wanted to know what was going on, where Ani was, and if he was all right. Yet he never asked, and as he and Bail went about the process of making them a late meal, he kept his tone and the conversation relaxed and light for the twins' benefit. Threepio was there, but she noted that Artoo wasn't. Obi Wan appointed the hapless protocol droid as a babysitter, and Isaly could almost laugh at his typically comical surprise.

She sank gratefully onto the couch and curled her arms around her knees, watching with a weary smile as the boys discovered what an interesting playmate the poor droid could make. Fortunately for Threepio, it didn't take Bail and Obi Wan long to finish cooking. By the time dinner was ready, Isaly felt too tired to even move off the couch. It was an unwritten law in the Kenobi household that everyone ate at the table with everyone else, but Obi Wan brought a plate over to her before she could even ask him to.

The twins must have been very tired too because shortly after eating, they both began to be cranky and irritable. Isaly automatically roused herself from the half-stupor into which she had fallen, but again before she could say anything their grandfather took them in hand. He wasn't stern with them--at least far less so than Yoda would have been in the same situation--but a few words was all it took before even Junior followed him obediently off to bed.

"Dad, do you need help with them?" she asked, starting to get up before he had actually answered.

"No, darling, I don't," he called back with just a trace of firmness in his voice, but she sank back down into the cushions so quickly that she didn't even realize she had decided to sit down again. She blinked then her brow creased in confusion.

"Oh…"

"It's easy to forget he's a Jedi Master sometimes, isn't it?" Bail smiled.

"Sometimes," Isaly admitted.

His smile widened, and he walked over to lay a hand on her arm. "It's good to have you home. I'm going to head on back to my quarters. I'll see you all in the morning."

"Good night, Uncle Bail," she nodded.

With nothing to hold her focus after he left, she quickly found herself drifting toward sleep. She tried to resist at first, but it wasn't just her eyelids which seemed heavy to the point of being unable to support themselves. Her entire body felt that way, and her limbs ached so much that she thought they might literally fall off if she tried to move. The only way she could realistically stay awake would have been to force herself to get off the couch, and she simply couldn't muster the will to do so. Finally, she allowed her eyes to close, but she jumped awake a short time later as Obi Wan wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

"Shh," he murmured as he slid onto the couch beside her.

"I'm sorry about the boys," she sighed, settling her head on his chest.

"No, no, don't apologize. They can sense that you're upset, that's all," he told her, rubbing his hand soothingly along her arm.

"I know. It's just hard to shield everything from them all the time," she said.

"Your mother-in-law had the same trouble with Ani when he was little," he nodded.

"Not you?"

"I wasn't there," he sighed with obvious regret.

"You would have been," she said, the bit her lip against the onset of tears.

"It's all right," he said softly. "They won't wake up, I promise."

"I think I'm just too tired to cry," she said, though she did allow a few tears to slip down her cheeks.

"What's happened?" he asked.

She drew in a breath and let it out again. Then she took another moment to collect her thoughts, trying to decide where to start. When she couldn't think of anywhere else that seemed appropriate, she simply started from the landing on Dagobah and told the entire story from there. By the time she was half way through, she was crying, sometimes violently. Obi Wan listened patiently, never interrupting except to offer quiet reassurance. When she finished, he still said nothing but only held her until her sobbing finally faded away and her tears subsided.

"I'm so scared, Dad," she whispered. "Scared Vader will find him and kill him this time--or worse."

"Perhaps Vader is meant to find him," said Obi Wan slowly. "Perhaps that will the opportunity that Ani needs to reach Anakin."

"Do you really think he can?"

"I don't know. I was closer to Anakin than anyone, and I couldn't get through to him. But he was in love with my wife. There was a barrier there that neither of us was equipped to get around. If anyone is capable of reaching Anakin now, it is Ani. And I know that, no matter what happens, he will never be content unless he tries," replied Obi Wan.

"He thinks Vader would have done the same thing for him," Isaly said.

"Vader? No. Vader is a Sith Lord. He cares only for himself and his own desires. Anakin Skywalker--my son, my brother, the best friend I will ever have besides your mother-in-law--would have done anything he had to do to save someone he loved," Obi Wan replied.

"Dad, they're the same person," Isaly pointed out.

"I didn't used to think so," confessed Obi Wan. "For a long time after what happened on Mustafar, I was convinced that Anakin had died in the siege on the temple. As far as I was concerned, there was only Vader. But there is something of Anakin left; the Emperor hasn't driven it from him fully. Anakin had a good heart, Isaly. He _loved_ people--more fiercely than anyone I have ever known. I don't know what went wrong. I don't know _how_ Palpatine managed to twist and corrupt and confuse him so much, but I know that he is there. I saw it on the Death Star. He could _easily_ have slain Ani and didn't. It's the very fact that he and Vader _are_ the same person--the fact that some small trace of the _good_ man I knew that might give Ani what he needs to turn Vader back from the Dark Side."

"And if it isn't enough? If Ani can't turn Vader back?" she persisted.

"Then we may lose both of them forever," Obi Wan said without flinching.

"And you can accept that!" Isaly cried, pulling away to stare at him in disbelief.

"Yes."

_"Why?"_ she demanded incredulously. She knew better than anyone--with the possible exception of Padme--how much Obi Wan loved Ani, how much Ani loved his father in return. "I don't believe what I'm hearing, Dad! How can you say that?"

"Because, Isaly. We _will_ lose him if we don't let him do this. It will eat him up a piece at a time until there is nothing left of him."

"He says he's afraid that he will fall to the Dark Side, that the Dark Man he sees in his visions was never Anakin at all--but I'm afraid it's his own fear that will do him in the end."

"That's usually how it works," Obi Wan said with a sigh. "You become so focused on your fear that you can see nothing else."

"Right now, he's too worried about the fact that he hates Palpatine to see anything else," she said.

"Because he thinks that hating Palpatine is the problem. He's afraid that that is what the Sith will use against him to turn him to the Dark Side."

"Well, why isn't Yoda telling him that he's focused on the wrong thing?" she sighed.

"Perhaps because Ani has to see it for himself--and in order for him to see it, he has to be able to let go of his desire for revenge. Right now, that is clouding his ability to reason and perceive in the Force. Yoda can only help him one step at a time, and _telling_ him will do no good."

"Why not?!" she snapped.

"Because he's Ani. And because sooner or later, Yoda won't be there to explain everything to him. Neither will I. He's going to be responsible for the next generation of Jedi Knights; he has to learn to find the answers on his own," Obi Wan told her.

"And meanwhile we just sit and wait?" she asked, still unsatisfied.

"Yes. Just like I waited for your mother-in-law after Devaron, and just like Ani waited for you when you had to tell him that you were pregnant with Shmi," Obi Wan replied.

"Luke didn't wait."

"No…Luke didn't. But Luke has always known how to find his own way. Ani has never had to do that. Until now." 


	130. The Meetingplace

"Grandma, you think we'll see Uncle Luke?" Shmi asked idly as she and Padme sat across from one another at the holochess table in the _Falcon's_ lounge.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Padme replied.

"The Aidea System is less than a parsec away," Shmi reminded her grandmother.

"I know. But there's no telling if Red Squadron will still be there when these negotiations are finished," Padme said.

Shmi sighed heavily. "Oh."

"Maybe he will," she allowed.

"Think we can make Han go?" she grinned.

"Probably," nodded Padme.

Han himself was coming out of the cockpit as she said it, and he stopped short. Folding his arms, he gave the pair a hard look. Both of them smoothly went back to their game, ignoring his presence.

"Make Han go where?" he demanded.

"Nowhere," Shmi smiled innocently.

"Y'know…"

"The Aidea System. Luke's there," Padme said.

"They're defendin' supply lines, kid. No place for you," Han shook his head.

"Come on, Han, I'm old enough!" Shmi exclaimed.

"No place for me, either. And you go where I go," he insisted.

"But--"

"Hey!"

"Fine," she glowered.

"Good," Han nodded firmly. "Anyway, we're comin' up on Ecarua. Should reach the system in another few minutes, Mom."

"All right. Thank you, Han."

Padme slid out from behind the table and walked back to the crew quarters where Leia was supposed to have been resting but was probably awake reading whatever it was that ambassadors read on missions like these. Shmi watched her grandmother go, waiting until she was sure that the door was shut behind her before looking up at Han. He leaned casually against the table, a half smile curving the left side of his mouth.

"You still got that blaster I gave you?"

She nodded and hiked up her dress to expose the butt of a small blaster pistol that was tucked inside her boot. He touched her hair briefly, and she let the hem fall again.

"I don't want you usin' that unless you have to, kid," he said, folding his arms across his chest.

"I know."

"First sign of trouble down there, you run for the ship," he instructed.

"But, Han--!"

He held up his hand. "Your grandma and Leia'll follow you to make sure you're okay. Once everybody's onboard, you get the ship in the air. Don't wait."

"But what about you and Chewie?" she protested.

"Me and Chewie will catch up. Don't worry about us," he said.

"You know what Uncle Luke would say to that, don't you?" she raised an eyebrow.

Han rolled his eyes. "I bet you're gonna tell me."

"He'd say we don't do that in this family," she said pointedly.

"Yeah, well, look. First off, I still ain't a Kenobi. Second, if the Empire shows up, I don't want the _Falcon_ impounded," he told her.

"The _Falcon!_" she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Yeah!" he glared back. "This ship is how we make our living, kid."

"Right, and it has nothing to do with wanting Grandma and Aunt Leia out of trouble," she rolled her eyes.

"They can take care of themselves," Han assured her.

At that moment, the two women in question made their way back into the lounge, and Shmi clamped her mouth shut on a sarcastic rejoinder. Leia and Padme glanced at one another and then eyed the pair suspiciously.

"What's going on?" Leia wanted to know.

"Not a thing," Han shrugged.

"Why don't I believe that?" sighed Leia.

"Maybe you oughta start trustin' somebody, Your Worship," he shrugged.

This sparked a debate which continued, both in the lounge and the cockpit, until the ship set down on Ecarua 4. Once there, of course, both Padme and Leia were models of elegance and decorum, but Shmi caught her aunt shoot more than one nasty look at Han.

The platform they landed on was attached to a slate gray stone structure which Shmi thought seemed about as ancient and stately as the Massassi Temples on Yavin 4. The landing platforms appeared to have been built onto it much later, in a ring around the apex of the tower itself. Narrow, transparent corridors which allowed for a view of the lush green treetops below, connected the landing ring to the tower like spokes reaching inward toward the hub of a giant wheel.

They were greeted on the platform by three dignitaries, one of whom appeared to be human, while the second was a brownish-hued reptilian, and the third was a tall, elegant-looking felinoid with soft orange fur. All of them had their own contingents of security. A quick appraisal gave them three guards each, though she wasn't sure what additional personnel might be waiting inside.

Padme and Leia exchanged pleasantries with the Ecaruan ambassadors, introducing Han and Shmi as they talked. Then the entire group moved into the tower, which was oddly warm given the altitude. The stone floors were polished to a high sheen, and Shmi noticed tiny, glittering gold flecks in the stone itself. Several droids milled around the huge open area they were led into or moved through adjoining passageways, but they seemed to be programmed as caretakers of the tower rather than attached to the ambassadors. If the landing platforms and the entryway were any indication, they did their jobs well. The place was utterly immaculate, but warm and inviting in a way that the sterile white interiors of the Mon Calamari cruisers that Shmi was used to entirely lacked.

Negotiations were set to start in the morning, so the Kenobis and friends their were shown to some rooms for the night. Han and Chewie were given a room across the hall from the one where Padme, Leia, and Shmi were supposed to stay, but the pair doggedly followed Leia and Padme. The catlike Lasishi Ambassador who introduced herself as Keelin Asl accompanied the Kenobis to their chambers, where she, Padme and Leia talked for some time.

Shmi was used to watching her grandmother interact with Alliance leaders like Mon Mothma and Garm Iblis. Bail Organa was one of the first people that she had ever known outside of her own family, and due to his relationship with Leia, he might as well have been family anyway. Political discussions were therefore nothing new to her, and she had long since learned to observe without being obtrusive. Still, this particular exchange was something new to her. The politicians with which Padme usually spent her time were familiar not only to Shmi but to Padme herself. They were people that she had known, in some cases, even before her election as Queen of Naboo. Others had been colleagues and associates from her days as Senator for the Chommell Sector. Ambassador Asl and the rest of the Ecaruan representatives, on the other hand, were strangers. Padme knew nothing about them personally, and from what she and Leia had said on the trip here, they also knew relatively little about the culture and politics of the star system. Shmi had never seen this aspect of her grandmother. She had also never seen Leia and Padme working together as a diplomatic team, and she found the situation both odd and intriguing.

"I wouldn't have expected there to be so many droids at work here, Ambassador Asl," Padme was saying. "Isn't this planet uninhabited?"

"For the most part, yes," the Lasishi ambassador replied, trilling her r's in a way that Shmi found oddly soothing. "Legend tells us that this tower was constructed by a race of powerful gods who brought all three of the Ecaruan peoples to this system."

"Another hokey religion," Han rolled his eyes from the corner.

Leia shot him a dark look. "I apologize for Captain Solo's manners, Ambassador."

"Hey, don't apologize for _me_, Your Worship!" Han said hotly.

"There is really no need, Princess Leia," replied the Ambassador quietly. "Few Ecaruans in these times actually believe those stories. The tower simply serves as a reminder of the commonalities between our peoples, as do the colony settlements here on Ecarua 4."

"How so, Ambassador?" Padme asked.

"Ecarua 4's colonies are jointly governed by all three of our ruling bodies," she explained.

"Well, that makes everything nice and cozy, don't it?" Han spoke up again. "Specially since you folks all have such similar views on avoiding Imperial entanglements these days."

The Ambassador smiled again, taking his cynicism in stride. "Quite, Captain Solo."

She slid out a few minutes later, after inviting them all to a formal reception later in the evening. Once she was gone, both Padme and Leia whirled on Han. Leia crossed her arms.

"What was that about?"

"I don't like this!" Han responded with a harsh glare. "It's all too nice and friendly."

"Well, I happen to think it's a nice change," Leia said pointedly. "I don't sense any deception from Asl."

"What about the other two?" Han asked.

Her brow furrowed. "I don't know. They're difficult to read."

"Don't that tell you something?"

"What is it supposed to tell me, Han?"

"Come on!" Han sighed. "Think about it. These guys shouldn't even trust each other, let alone be running joint colonies."

"Trust isn't necessarily required to run a government. Especially when you're dealing with colonial settlements rather than the actual planetary or system governments. Still, it's too early for us to be assuming anything," Padme said, looking from one to the other of them. "Trust your instincts. And each other."

------

Padme didn't sleep well after attending the Ecaruans' reception. Obi Wan's warnings lingered with her, and Han's uneasiness made her all the more unsettled. Han may have been suspicious by nature, but he was not stupid, and whether Leia admitted it or not, his mistrust of the Ecaruans may well have been founded. She lay awake for a long time, staring at the unfamiliar stone ceiling above her, and she was just starting to drift off when a shrill claxon pierced the pre-dawn silence. She bolted upright in bed, swinging her legs to the floor as the building suddenly shook with the impact of canon fire.

She hurried to the closet and hastily pulled clothes on over her nightgown, then raced into the main room. Shmi was running out of her bedroom at the same time, hair askew but instantly alert as only a child raised in wartime could be. Han came charging through the door with Chewie a step behind, but there was no sign of Leia.

"Where's Leia?" Han demanded.

"I don't know--" Padme started, whirling toward her daughter's room. Even before she reached the doorway, she knew that the room would be empty. She felt her throat begin to close with dread, but Han grabbed her arm, pulling her back out.

"I'll find her," he said, shoving Padme roughly at Chewie. "Get them back to the ship, pal."

Chewie howled, reaching to steady Padme when she would have stumbled into him. Then he gestured to Shmi and barreled out into the hall. Padme turned and swept her granddaughter into his arms, following after the big Wookiee, who was busy smashing his way through some frantically running droids.

"No, Chewie!" she cried as soon as she had stepped out into the chaos. Ice shot through her veins as she realized what--who--had been the real reason for the ominous sense of threat which had kept her awake tonight. He was here now, somewhere ahead of them, though she couldn't distinguish his heavy footfalls from the clatter of the stormtroopers which were already approaching from the maze of corridors ahead of them.

Chewie half-turned to growl a question at her, and as he did, a red stream of blaster fire lanced toward him. The shot struck him in the side, but rather than stagger him, it only infuriated the Wookiee, who turned and batted the storm trooper responsible aside. Others came pouring out of the next hall, weapons raised, and Padme knew that Vader would not be far behind them.

Ducking behind an ornate statue, she loosened her grip on Shmi, letting the girl slide to her feet. Then she crouched, drawing a blaster pistol from a hidden pocket in her dress. Peering around the corner, she saw Chewie racing toward them, but the storm troopers fired again, and he fell, howling in pain.

"Run," she told Shmi as she took aim.

"No, Grandma--"

"I said run!" she repeated without turning toward the child. "Don't look back, Shmi, do you hear me? Run!"


	131. Escape Routes

Shmi ran. She scrambled back through the hall that Chewie had just led them down, unsure where she was going except that Han had gone this way. In her mind, she could still hear his admonishment that if anything was to happen it was her responsibility to get the _Falcon_ in the air. He'd gone after her aunt himself, so she wasn't concerned about making sure that her aunt made it back to the ship, but her grandmother was an entirely different matter. She skidded down a narrow passageway off the main hall, and pressed her back against the stone wall, panting heavily as she fought to bring her racing pulse under control and find calm enough to think.

_Don't look back, do you understand me?_

Tears burned in her eyes, and she pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to cry. Already there were other voices echoing through her mind--lessons half remembered, mostly fragments she'd picked up from watching her grandfather teach her Uncle Luke on Tatooine.

_Don't center on your fears. Listen to the Force; let it guide you._

"I don't know how!" she half whispered.

"Don't try so hard," said a voice beside her. It was familiar, though she couldn't quite say why.

Gasping, she turned her head toward the sound and found a translucent man in old-style Jedi robes, his long hair loose and flowing down to broad shoulders. His whole form was outlined in a blue white glow.

"Qui-Gon?"

He gave her a half smile.

"What do I do?!" she asked urgently.

"Calm yourself. The Force is there to help you. You don't have to find it, just reach. Like putting your hand out to touch a stream," he said.

The sound of blaster fire and running footsteps was getting closer. She gave the Jedi Spirit an exasperated look. "No offense, Qui-Gon, but we're a little short on time. Which way?"

His smile widened, and he moved away from the wall, taking a half step back. "You know already. Follow your heart, Shmi."

"Right," she rolled her eyes as he vanished. She wasn't sure whether his little gesture was supposed to have been a hint or not, but she didn't have time to debate the matter. The passage he'd stepped back into was even narrower than the one in which she was standing, but it was dark, which would hopefully mean that it would escape notice.

Slipping into the shadows, she stretched out her hand, pressing her palm against the rough wall to guide her way. She moved as fast as her legs could carry her, following the corridor blindly. After a few moments, she became aware that its twists and turns seemed to be leading her around in a circle.

_This is the last time I listen to a dead guy,_ she promised herself silently.

As she finished the thought, she heard voices ahead of her and skidded to a halt. Cautiously, she approached the sound, and the passageway began to lighten. Finally, it opened into one of the glass halls that led back to the landing platforms. She hung back, peering slowly into the hall, hoping against hope that it was the one that the Falcon was attached to.

Craning her neck, she saw not the Falcon at the end of the connecting passage but a trio of Ecaruan ships. One was a large transport, which she presumed had carried one of the ambassadors; the two others were fighters of a design that she had never seen before, long and narrow like X-Wings, but without the characteristic S-foils. These were two-man craft that looked more like arrowheads, tapered to a point at one end with short wings curving out and downward from the rear of the craft.

She sighed. "Of course it can't be a ship I know how to fly. Why would it be?"

She bolted out of the shadows, racing down the transparent tunnel toward the platform, but as she was about to reach the far end, something caught her eye that made her blood suddenly freeze in her veins. She stopped short, spinning to peer out of the transparisteel wall. In the tunnel across from hers, the massive, black clad specter of Darth Vader was leading a phalanx of Imperial Stormtroopers toward another landing platform. Beside him, her held high, shoulders back in regal defiance marched Padme Kenobi.

"Grandma!"

Shmi turned again, running with a new determination toward the Ecaruan craft. As she moved, she reached down to pull the blaster from her boot. Reaching the nearest of the two fighters, she scrambled up the ladder one-handed and vaulted from the top step into the cockpit.

"You can't help her now, Shmi," Qui-Gon's disembodied voice warned.

"Shut up," she muttered, tossing the blaster down on the seat and picking up the helmet that rested beside it. Her sharp eyes were already scanning the panel of lights and buttons in front of her. In a few seconds, she found the hatch control switch and flipped it up, sealing the cockpit.

"You have to get away," Qui-Gon said. "There are other ways to help your grandmother."

"I can't leave her!" she shouted, stabbing at a large red button on the left side of the control yoke which stood a good chance of being--ignition!

"What would she expect you to do?" attempted Qui-Gon.

"I don't care…?"

The fighter lifted off, and she banked hard and to the left, scorching the platform as she wheeled it around toward the one that Vader and her grandmother would now be on. It was far lighter than the _Falcon,_ and she nearly scraped the wall of the tower as she struggled to gain control of it.

"The Force!" urged Qui-Gon.

She gave a faint nod of acknowledgement and closed her eyes, taking a moment to clear her mind. It had been a long time since she'd sat in her Uncle Luke's lap while he flew his old T-16 back home, but she could almost feel his hands over hers on the yoke.

_Don't fight the ship. Let it be part of you._

The fighter steadied, but she didn't open her eyes. Instead, she simply let her hands move over the panel in front of her, correcting the attitude and putting a bit more distance between her and the tower. Then her hands slid up the yoke until her thumbs discovered the blaster buttons. When she opened her eyes again, she was angling straight toward the landing platform. Grinning, she triggered the blasters, and the stunned stormtroopers scattered.

Vader and Padme were almost all the way up the boarding ramp of the Imperial shuttle, but the Sith Lord whirled around, caught off guard by the intrusion. In his moment of confusion, Padme yanked her arm out of his grasp, delivering a sharp elbow with the full force of her body weight behind it. The impact sent the top-heavy Sith toppling sideways off the ramp, while Padme broke and ran. Vader regained his equilibrium mid-fall, righting himself with the Force, but Padme was far enough away now that he had lost his advantage. Shmi pushed the narrow fighter forward, positioning it in the widening gap between her grandmother and the Sith. Then she popped the cockpit hatch, grabbing her blaster to give Padme cover fire.

The stormtroopers had recovered from their shock, and they were training their weapons on the escaping pair. To Shmi's surprise, however, Vader shouted at them to hold their fire. Padme pulled herself quickly up the side of the ship, but Vader strode menacingly toward the other side of the ship.

_There is nowhere you can go, Shmi,_ she heard him say in her mind. _Come down, you have nothing to fear from me._

"And then you woke up," she muttered half under her breath as Padme reached the cockpit.

"What?" she asked.

"Hold on!"

She punched the thrusters before the hatch had even completely descended on the cockpit again. The little ship screamed off the platform, dropping lower as they cleared it. Shmi hugged the tower for a moment, trying to get her bearings, but a cluster of TIE fighters were already swarming toward them. She veered away and spiraled still lower, skimming the treetops in an effort to evade them.

"How many are there, can you see them?" she asked.

"Six on the scope, but I only see four," Padme replied after a moment.

"What do we do?"

"Don't panic. Just keep trying to lose them," Padme told her calmly.

"I wish Grandpa was here," Shmi said, biting her lip.

"Me too…"

_Take the ship between the trees,_ urged a voice in her mind. _Don't let them get a weapon's lock on you._

"Qui-Gon?"

"What?"

"I heard something--I thought it was--never mind," Shmi shook her head, angling the fighter's nose downward.

"Shmi, what are you doing?" Padme cried as they plunged into the trees. Branches clattered heavily against the hull and blue-green leaves were all she could see as they fell.

"Sorry, sorry," Shmi winced as she leveled them off again, now weaving the little ship through the space between the close-growing trees.

_Use the Force. Think yourself through, the ship will follow._

"I thought I wasn't supposed to think?!?"

"You'd better start thinking if we're going to get out of this!" Padme called, clearly confused as to who her granddaughter was talking to.

_Visualize._

"Pretend you're already through," said Qui-Gon.

_"Who--"_ she broke off, gaping at the sudden realization of who had told her to try this crazy stunt in the first place. "Oh, no…!"

"What?!" demanded Padme.

"Vader told me to come down here!" Shmi explained, then yanked the ship hard to the left and right, trying to shake the Imperial fighter that had followed them down. "I'm sorry, Grandma, I thought it was Qui-Gon."

"It's all right," Padme said quickly. "Those pilots have no idea who's in this ship. He hasn't had time to get them on the comm and tell them not to kill us yet."

"What?"

"He doesn't want to kill us, Shmi. Do whatever he tells you for now," instructed Padme.

"I'd really rather not," Shmi said. "Hang on."

The TIE was still close on their tail, and Shmi could see only one way to escape its pursuit. She banked again, this time coming around to aim the nose of her ship directly at the broad trunk of a tree.

"Shmi, no!"

"Don't worry, Grandma," she said, calmly closing her eyes. In the Force, it wasn't a ship that flew through the thick forest of Ecarua 4. It was Shmi Skywalker Kenobi, and in sudden, glorious clarity, she could feel the tree ahead, the fighter behind, and even, to a lesser degree, the rest of the Imperial ships that were still closing in on their position. She didn't try to calculate, didn't even tighten her grip on the yoke in anticipation of the pull up. She didn't have to. The Force tightened her fingers and hauled back on the yoke, sending the fighter shooting straight up, parallel to the tree while the TIE crashed into the trunk.

The resulting fireball, however, rocked the tree, and the needle-pointed fighter was caught on edge of the concussive blast and went tumbling out of control.

As Shmi struggled with the unresponsive controls, two more TIEs shot out of the trees, vectoring in on her from either side. Both ships fired, but Shmi's craft chose that moment to stall, and as it dropped lower, the Imperial ships were obliterated in friendly fire. She jabbed the ignition frantically, trying to restart the engines, and finally, seconds before they would have crashed, the ship bucked and whined, shooting toward another tree. She swerved around it then pulled up again, trying to regain some altitude.

As soon as she leveled off, two more TIEs streaked down on them. This time, they tried a different tactic, positioning themselves above and behind her in an attempt to keep her from maneuvering past them. A warning flashed on the targeting computer in front of her, first yellow, then red, and she didn't need to be able to read the words on the screen to understand that the fighter behind her had just gotten a weapon's lock.

They were nearing a large clearing in the forest, and she desperately accelerated toward it, hoping that with more room to move, she could shake the Imperials, but it was too little, too late. Blaster fire clipped the right wing, shaking the ship, and they dipped dangerously. Rather than fight it, she kicked the ship into a right wing-over, a trick Han had taught her which would use the damaged wing's immobility to whip the fighter about at the end of the roll. Then she jammed her thumbs down on the blasters, firing entirely blind. The shots hit home, and the two Imperial ships exploded in balls of flame.

The sixth one veered down as well, firing a barrage of shots which she managed to evade with more break-neck weaving. The damaged wing made the ship sluggish and hard to control, but she managed to keep from taking a second shot. Finally, they burst past the forest's edge, and she found herself skimming a shallow, rocky canyon. At the far end, her scope showed a small, flat outcropping with a roughly cylindrical hole in the center, like the eye of a needle.

"Hang on, I've got an idea," she told Padme, pushing the ship into a dive. It took all of her strength and concentration to maintain control, and she didn't see the targeting computer's warning light until a bare second before the back of the ship rocked with the impact of another shot.

They careened downward, Shmi battling to keep the ship on course for the needle. The cockpit began to fill with smoke, but the ship held together, and they barreled through the hole, metal and stone screaming against one another as the narrow craft barely squeezed through to the far side. The TIE pilot, in close pursuit, saw too late that his wings wouldn't clear the opening and collided with the outcropping.

Shmi's fighter continued its descent, until finally slamming into the ground. It didn't stop, but slid along the rocky ground, digging a deep swathe in the canyon floor as it went. Fortunately, its momentum was slowed enough by the ground that it came to a halt just as its needle-like nose touched the canyon wall.

Slowly closing her eyes, Shmi let out a deep sigh of relief. Then she passed a shaking hand over her face. For a second, she could only breathe, but as she reached up to remove the helmet she was wearing, another realization dawned.

"I am _so_ grounded," she sighed, turning to look over her shoulder at Padme. "Listen, Grandma, can we--Grandma!"


	132. Kenobi Girls Kick

Han raced back through the smoking halls, unsure where he was going, but sure of one thing--whoever had grabbed Leia was about to meet the business end of his blaster. He pushed his way past droids and wended his way through the maze of corridors, until suddenly he collided with a slim, white-clad figure running in the opposite direction. Small hands shoved at him, and he took a reflexive step back, instinctively bringing up his blaster.

"Leia!"

"What are you doing?"

"What am _I_ doing? What are you doing?"

"Trying to find you!" she replied hotly, then sighed and raised a hand to her face in exasperation.

"What?" Han roared. "Listen, don't you _ever_ do that to me again!"

"What!?" she shot back.

"I thought somebody grabbed you!"

"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk!"

"You shoulda come and got me!"

"We don't have time for this, Han. Where are Shmi and my mother?"

"I told Chewie to get them back to the ship. They should be there by now."

"Well, let's go," she pushed past him, heading back the way he'd just come.

"Yes, Your Worship!" he responded with a gusty sigh, spinning to follow her.

They moved swiftly back toward the Kenobis' rooms, picking off any Imperials they came across with well-placed blaster shots or swings of Leia's blue lightsaber. Pausing at the familiar door to get his bearings, Han looked around for a second then gestured for her to follow him. A few minutes later, though, he stopped short, feeling his entire body go cold at the sight of Chewbacca's still body on the floor. Leia skidded to a halt beside him, and Han swallowed hard, dropping to his knees.

"Chewie," he said hoarsely, reaching to touch the Wookiee's big shoulder.

A faint, pained whine answered him, and Han sucked in a relieved breath. He released it slowly, then moved to try to position Chewie's arm around his shoulders. The Imperials must have assumed that the Wookiee was dead and left him. Leia knelt to help him, and together they hefted their friend off the ground.

"C'mon, Pal," Han said in a strained tone. "We gotta get you out of here."

Chewie whined again, shaking his head vehemently.

"Whaddaya mean, _no_?" Han demanded, though he didn't stop to find out.

"Han," Leia said with soft urgency, although like him she continued toward the landing ring with steady determination. "Mom and Shmi."

"They'll be there," Han told her.

"I don't think they are," Leia protested.

"I told Shmi before we landed that if anything happened, she was supposed to run for the _Falcon_. She'll do what I told her. They'll be there," Han promised.

But they weren't. Heading through the transparisteel tunnel to the _Falcon_, they saw why. Leia froze at the sight of her mother being led aboard an Imperial shuttle by none other than Darth Vader. Suddenly, an unfamiliar, needle-nosed fighter came careening onto the platform, laser cannons firing. Padme landed a hard elbow on Vader, sending the mechanical monstrosity toppling off the loading ramp, and then ran for the ship.

"Yeah, Mom!" Han cried.

"Shmi," Leia said as the fighter's canopy popped open.

"C'mon, c'mon," urged Han, pulling them once again toward the _Falcon._ The stormtroopers guarding the ship immediately turned and fired on the approaching rebels. Leia ducked quickly out from under Chewie's arm, her lightsaber in her hand before Han could even blink.

"Get to the ship!" she shouted.

Blaster shots flashed toward them then ricocheted back at the stormtroopers in a blinding series of flares and explosive crackles. Leia's lightsaber was a blue blur, and for a second, Han could only watch in amazement as she moved in to cut down the second line of white-armored figures blocking their way. Then, pulling himself together, he wrapped his free arm around Chewie and dragged the Wookiee as fast as he could toward the ramp.

He ran for the ship's cryo chamber and hefted Chewie into it. Leia followed him aboard and made immediately for the cockpit, so that by the time he had started the cryo-cycle, the Falcon was lifting off. He hurried through the lounge and came up beside her, sliding into the co-pilot's seat as she steered the ship through the atmosphere.

"I can't see them," she said worriedly.

"This place is crawling with Imperial ships. Nothing we can do for them if they're still down here," Han muttered, slamming a fist angrily against the console.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't wanna leave them," he said, shaking his head, "but Chewie's hurt bad, and if we don't get ourselves outta here alive, we can't do them any good later."

"Where?" asked Leia.

He grit his teeth, rapidly casting around for an answer. "Aidea. Luke's in the Aidea System. If they got out, Shmi would head there--" he started to say. The sentence was cut off by cannon fire as a swarm of TIE fighters swooped down on them from the clouds. "Executor's gotta be in orbit somewhere. I need you on the guns."

Leia nodded without comment and got to her feet. She slid back out of the cockpit, and her footsteps raced toward the gun turrets. Han whipped the ship into a series of hard dives and rolls, trying to keep the TIEs off their back. They followed closely for a few minutes, and the _Falcon's_ shields began to fluctuate dangerously. Then, Leia's cannon blazed into action, picking off the closest ones to give him some room.

He angled the ship higher and started to climb, keeping a wary eye on the sensors and hoping that they wouldn't come out of the atmosphere within range of the Executor's turbolaser cannons. TIEs moved in on either side, trying to force him back down, but he doggedly kept on while Leia did her best to take them out. Finally there were only three left: one on either side of the ship and a third which suddenly vectored in on them from the tower. That one flew in high, trying to position itself over the Falcon.

"There's one tryin'a get above us," he called to her over the comm.

"I know; I can't get him!" Leia replied through clenched teeth. "He's moving around too much."

"Hang on, I'm gonna try something," Han said.

"Try what?" she demanded.

He didn't bother to answer but instead pushed the _Falcon's_ nose straight down and kicked in the thrusters, causing the ship to shoot toward the ground. The ships on either side of them were caught in their own crossfire and exploded instantly. Han expected the third fighter to be shaken off, but whoever this pilot was, he realized that it was not the average Imperial starpilot. The TIE dropped down with him, maintaining a tight pursuit that gave him little room to maneuver as he tried to pull out of the dive.

"Well, that worked!" Leia shot.

"I don't see you takin' 'im out, Princess!" Han fired back.

"Maybe I could if you'd hold still for five seconds," she retorted.

"If I keep this ship still for five seconds we won't have to worry about it! We'll be dead!" he told her hotly. Then he rolled the ship right again, swinging back toward the tower as they came out of the spin. The TIE matched his spin and stayed on him tight as the panel in front of him began blink a warning.

"Han, he's too close!"

"I know, I know!" he responded as the ship shook with the impact of another hit. "One more like that and our shields are gone."

He rounded the tower with the fighter still tight on his tail. It swerved and weaved after him, matching every move he made. At the rate both ships were moving, Leia couldn't get a clear shot, but fortunately the TIE couldn't lock on to the Falcon, either. Han knew that such a stalemate couldn't go on indefinitely, though. This guy wasn't alone, and all he had to do was keep them in the atmosphere long enough for more of his buddies to show up and finish them.

Han swore softly and punched the thrusters again, trying to stay far enough ahead that the TIE couldn't get another shot. It wasn't working. No matter what he did, the guy stayed right on his tail. Now he was trying to climb above them again, always keeping himself just ahead of the cannon's movements as he tried to get into the blind spot that was directly above the turret.

"Okay," Han muttered, clenching his teeth. "You wanna play this game? Fine, let's play."

He jammed his thumb down on the thrusters for a third time, only now instead of simply keeping the ship on a horizontal course, he pulled back on the controls, taking her higher, then arched the ship back so that, for a brief moment, it was flying upside down, perpendicular to the TIE fighter. It leveled off again behind the smaller craft, and Leia fired off the shot that finally nailed his engines.

"All right!" Han cheered. "That's my girl. Now, let's get outta here."

More Imperials fired on them as they exited the atmosphere, but Han evaded them with relative ease until he could make the jump to hyperspace. Once they were safely out of Ecaruan space, he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. A heavy weight settled on his chest, and he let out a long sigh as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.

His best friend was lying in cryo. Not only had he just _lost_ Padme and Shmi, he had no way of knowing where they were or if they were going to make it past the Imps. He shook his head angrily, the fingers of his right hand curling into a fist again. For the second time, that fist came down hard on the console in front of him.

"I shoulda got them out last night. I _knew_ something wasn't right here. No. I shoulda listened to the old man!" he berated himself. "Never shoulda let them come here!"

He closed his eyes. Ani and the old man had trusted him to keep Shmi and Padme safe. Once he would have said that they were crazy to do that--maybe they were--but they _had_ trusted him. A cold sensation spread out from the pit of his stomach, and he felt an icy hand begin to close around his heart. He was going to have to go back and tell both of them that he had lost their wife and daughter. A moment of panic gripped him, and he swallowed hard as his mind began to work.

There was nowhere he could run, though. Nothing to do but face the music this time. Chewie needed help; Leia was still on board the _Falcon._ Leia. Swallowing again, he let his hand fall away from his face. Her footsteps were coming back toward him now, slower because they were in no immediate danger, but they were still moving steadily and inexorably toward the cockpit.

"Han, it wasn't your fault," she said as she came in.

"Yeah, it was," he waved a hand in dismissal of her reassurance.

"Fine," she replied, moving to stand next to him. "I still love you."

"You…what?" he gulped.

"You heard me. And we're going to get them back."

"You bet to hell we are."


	133. The Meeting

Jareth Tyrn watched from his perch in the high, gnarled and intertwined branches of a tree on the canyon's edge as two fighters streaked toward him. The Lasishi ship headed straight toward a familiar outcropping and looked for all the world like it was going to try what pilots in the colonies called threading the needle. The smaller, round ship--an Imperial TIE, he thought, although he had never seen one up close--stayed in hot pursuit, but he knew already that even if the other ship made it through the small hole in the rock, the TIE would not. To his surprise, the Lasishi ship did make it through, and sure enough, the TIE tried to follow. It smacked the outcropping and blew up in a splendid fireball that made the young boy's eyes widen in delighted appreciation. Then, with a small gasp of realization, he turned and scrambled out of the tree and bounded across the floor of the canyon. Whoever was in that ship was going to need help, and while Jareth was not as big or strong as a full-blooded Lasishi boy might have been, his mother was the resident healer of the three settlements, and he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

When he reached the crash site, he stopped short, his sharp eyes going wide with surprise. The fighter had left a long gouge in the canyon floor, and it looked to him like it really should have struck the wall, but it had in fact stopped only centimeters from doing so. That alone was a big enough shock, but what really gave him pause were the two beings who were now stumbling away from it. He twitched his sensitive nose and sniffed, unsure what to make of them. One was definitely an adult female, but the other was a kid who looked about the same age as him. Neither were Lasishi--so what were they doing in a needle-nose fighter? The big one was leaning heavily on the little one, who was really too small to support her weight, and she looked like she'd gotten a bad bump on the head. Blood was streaming down the woman's forehead as badly as he'd ever seen it after a cantina fight.

"Hey, my Grandma's hurt! Can you help us?!" the little one yelled toward him in Basic.

He abruptly realized that he was standing there staring and rushed over to help support the lady. "Gotta get away from the ship in case," he said, gritting his teeth.

The little one nodded agreement, and together the two children half-guided, half-dragged her semiconscious grandmother further into canyon. They pulled her behind a small stand of trees and she slumped to the ground.

"Grandma! Grandma, don't go to sleep!" the girl called urgently. Then she glanced at Jareth.  
"We have to find a way to stop the bleeding."

He was already tugging off the thick tunic he wore, and he nodded in approval. "Pressure," he said as he hurriedly rolled up the garment and knelt beside the lady, pressing it against her head. The girl added her own hands, covering his, and their eyes met briefly.

"Are you alone?" she asked.

He nodded, frowning. "My house ain't that far. I can go get my mom, but you'll have to wait here. I don't think we can get her to climb out of here safe."

"We'll be okay," she nodded. "But hurry, I don't think she'll stay awake much longer."

"I can run fast," he promised, getting to his feet again. He wasted no time waiting for an answer but did just that, blazing through the trees toward the narrow, winding path that lead up to the forest floor.

------

The shot from the _Millennium Falcon's_ cannon turret took out Vader's engines, and he plummeted downward, fighting desperately to gain some control over his descent. Furiously, he reached out to the Force, opening himself to its current and forcibly holding the shaking fighter together, refusing to allow it to break apart under the stress of atmospheric pressure and a speed of descent which should have shorn it in two. It would hold! There could be no alternative. And it did hold--by the sheer, rage-empowered imposition of his will over reality, which was the core of what it meant to be Sith. Branches and leaves knocked against the exterior of the craft, and he was buffeted from side to side, but he managed, at least, to clear the forest before he hit the ground. His scope showed a geological depression of some kind ahead of him, a canyon or gulch--not the best site for a bad landing, but he had certainly weathered worse.

Another ship had tried a similar maneuver recently, and he realized with a curse that he was on a collision course with it. He hauled on the control yoke and called on the Force again, trying to snap the TIE to starboard in order to avoid the other craft. He swerved, but the momentum sent his damaged fighter tumbling end over end, and without engine power he had no way of dampening his inertia. He thumbed the ignition, hoping that even a momentary burst would give him some measure of control, but there was nothing. He was spinning out of control, doubly trapped within the confines of the TIE fighter and the suit, unable to see or move, and he prayed silently and desperately as terror began to assail him that nothing would snap the breather tubes or the mouth filter before the ship finally came to a halt. Then he felt himself thrown forward, and the angular face mask, which already squeezed and deformed his face, smashed the control panel. Pain blossomed through Vader's head, spreading upward from a nose that he had no doubt was broken, through and behind his eye sockets, into his forehead and then down the back of his skull. The ship rolled on, and he lay there helplessly, his head exploding with each movement, until finally, mercifully it stopped. The pain stabilized, and he closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sickening array of light which clashed with the flickering visual input of the helmet. He breathed. He bled. He became aware of torn flesh at his joints and in other locations where the suit's fit was particularly poor, screaming a new, brighter agony along his nerves. He breathed. And then pain ended in blackness--frigid, wet blackness. For a moment, he was drowning. Then he knew nothing.

------

_Jareth! Get to the ship! _

But the ship was already spinning--

Out of control. Trapped!

Run! Do you hear me! Don't look back! Run!

The ship!

Two fighters careened through the canyon--three--but somehow he was two of them at once.  
Struggling to keep control.

"Watch this," Anakin's voice was steady. He flipped his starfighter again and dove, spinning, directly through them. "I'm going to lead them through the needle."

"Don't lead them anywhere. First Jedi principle of combat: survive," Obi Wan reminded him.

"No choice," Anakin replied. "Come down and thin them out a little."

"Use the Force. Think yourself through, and the ship will follow!"

"I thought I wasn't supposed to think!?!"

"You'd better start thinking if…"

"Mother?" Ani called. "Shmi!"

"No, Mom, no!"

"Mom! No, mom, no!"

"Grandma!"

Spinning out of control--trapped! He was trapped. Every breath a frigid, wet struggle.

Trapped! Drowning?

But weren't we just… 

Ani bolted upright in bed, scrubbing his face with his hands. For several long minutes he only breathed, trying to remind himself that it was a dream. A vision. Something that either hadn't happened yet or had already happened and was therefore out of control. And yet, it felt different. Something nagged at him.  
He breathed. He bled.

"Uncle…?" he half whispered, closing his eyes in concentration.

_Shmi! _

Cannon fire blazed past the little ship, impacting on the bridge tower's support struts ahead of him, but Anakin came on fast. The fighter snapped onto its side, clearing the narrow gap between the two struts with bare centimeters to spare. The first two vultures exploded against the sides, and Obi Wan fired down on the others, forcing them into the path of the explosion. Anakin's fighter shot away from the cruiser into a victory roll.

"I'll give you the first four," the Knight's voice crackled through the speakers. "But the other eight are mine."

"Anakin--"

"All right, we'll split them," allowed Anakin. "But lunch is still on you."

"Fine," Obi Wan agreed. "But if Padme finds out, you can explain it."

"Deal--" Anakin started to say, then broke off. 

"No," Ani interrupted, shaking his head as for the first time in his life, he exerted his own will upon the visions. "This is the past. The Clone Wars. It's gone. I can't change it."  
Opening himself further to the Force, he stretched outward. _Uncle Anakin!_  
There was no answering touch, no chilling, familiar presence. Yet he had felt something--danger. Danger to both of them--Shmi and Vader--and to his mother as well. That had been no mere echo of his childhood terror. Something was wrong--very wrong--and he was trapped on Dagobah!

He swung his feet to the floor and shivered at the iciness of the ground. Why was everything suddenly so _cold?_ He impatiently pushed the question aside and stood up, though he had no idea where he intended to go. It didn't matter, nor did it matter that there was nowhere to go. He only knew that he had to do something. He had to move because motion would be the only way to alleviate the horrible, claustrophobic sense of being trapped which had descended on him.  
_Trapped,_ he thought as he began to pace the room. Was that it? Were they trapped somewhere? Together--by the Force! His stomach lurched at the very thought. Then he scrubbed his face with his hands again. Even if they _were_--even if he knew for sure, what good would it do him? What good could _he_ do them? He was still quite literally trapped in the swamp, at least until Isaly got back.

If something was wrong, Obi Wan would know, he told himself. As would Luke and Leia--hell, Han and Isaly would probably know by association. He wasn't the only one capable of helping them.

He forced himself to sink back down onto the edge of the bed and to breathe slowly and calmly.

_There is no emotion, there is peace.  
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.  
There is no passion, there is serenity.  
There is no chaos, there is harmony.  
There is no death, there is the Force._

He recited silently, repeating the code several times, until his mind became tranquil and he could center himself again. Only then did he reach into the Force, slowly, serenely, without expectation. And when he touched the arctic current, his body went rigid, jerking as if he'd wrapped his hand around a live electrical wire. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he pitched forward, landing face down on the dirt floor.

Pain blossomed through Ani's head, spreading upward from a nose that he had no doubt was broken, through and behind his eye sockets, into his forehead and then down the back of his skull. The room seemed to be tumbling end over end, but he lay there helplessly, unable to move or stop it. Slowly, it came to a lurching halt. The pain stabilized, and he closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sickening array of light--sparkling white and blood red in flashes that turned his stomach. He breathed. He bled. He became aware of torn flesh at his joints and in other locations where he knew that he could have done no damage. Yet his body was screaming a new, brighter agony along his nerves. He breathed. And then pain ended in blackness--frigid, wet blackness. For a moment, he was drowning. Then he knew nothing.


	134. Faded Day

Darth Vader awoke to the odd sensation of painlessness. He lay still, disoriented by the lack of the suffering that had been an ever-present weight on his body for more than twenty years. He felt—almost as if he were floating somewhere without a body at all, weightless. Terror lanced through him at first. Then he realized that the back of his head was being cradled against something. Both his head and neck were being supported by a soft, pliant surface which seemed to conform to their shape--although not entirely. Breath came to his lungs far more easily than it should have, and there was something eerily uncomfortable about the room in which he lay. He kept his eyes closed, stretching outward with the Force in an effort to determine where he was and what was going on.

Silence. The room was utterly silent. The incessant rasp of the breather, the suit's pointless beeping, the feedback and static from the auditory implants which had replaced his eardrums, were all gone. He swallowed reflexively at the realization, then his entire body tensed as he absorbed the fact that he had even swallowed with no pain. Cautiously, he raised his hand to touch his face, and he felt himself go cold.

It wasn't the skin which shocked him so much as the fingertips he felt against it. His fingers--no--_Anakin's_ fingers. The fingers he'd lost on Mustafar. Heart hammering in his chest, he allowed his eyes to open. Then he stared, gasping, at his own hand--a human hand! Instinctively, he jerked upright, and his head spun as he recognized the room. Deep blue walls, shelves lined with a motley combination of toys and droid parts, most of which he'd given the boy himself. _Ani's room?_ The Senate apartments on Coruscant--500 Republica. But--what was he doing here? And when had he given little Ani droid components? Toys, yes. He remembered toys. The model ships, the bug…a few scattered other things. The rest, though…the rest he had never seen--and yet, he knew exactly which ones had been gifts from him and which had come from Obi Wan.

_Wait!_ Ani's room didn't exist--Padme's apartment, 500 Republica, all of it--was gone now. If not physically, it was gone to him--everything it had meant, all it represented--had died along with Anakin Skywalker.

"Uncle?"

His head snapped up, and he turned toward the door. His eyes narrowed incredulously, and his mouth fell open. The boy stood frowning at him from the doorway--taller, a bit older and heavier than he remembered, with longer hair, but the same brightly innocent blue eyes. There was no hollow ache, no haunted shadow hidden in them. This wasn't the same child who had watched him slaughter younglings in the temple--yet it was Ani. Even if his eyes could deceive him, he knew that the Force would not.

"Anakin…?"

"Are you okay, Uncle?"

"I--I--" he stammered as he felt himself begin to shake uncontrollably.

Ani looked back over his shoulder, calling into the living room. "Dad! I think he had another dream!"

_Dream…?_ Anakin thought. _What…?_  
His head was still spinning. Before he could piece it together, Obi Wan appeared in the doorway behind his son. Anakin sprang off the bed, instinctively reaching out to the Force. He sailed backwards, flipping over the bed to land with his back to the wall, and he reached for the lightsaber that should have been at his belt--should have been--but wasn't!

"Don't come near me!" he warned

"Anakin," Obi Wan said softly, soothingly, sliding past Ani to come into the room. "It's all right."

Without moving his eyes off the Jedi, he grabbed the contents of the shelves on either side of him, hurling them telekinetically toward Obi Wan. Ani quickly ducked and scrambled out of the way, but he didn't hide as Anakin would have expected him to.

"Uncle Anakin, don't!"

"It's all right," Obi Wan repeated, holding up his hand to halt the onslaught midair. "Your Uncle Anakin knows I don't want to hurt him, Ani."

"Obi Wan…?" he asked fearfully.

"Clear your mind, Anakin," he said in the same soft tone.  
Slowly, he drew in a calming breath. Then another and another, until his frantic thoughts stopped racing. Reality no longer seemed to twist and buck with every passing second. What had been a disjointed mass of sensory input, which had no relationship to his own memories, began to make sense. As it did, his knees gave out, and he sank to the floor, still trembling but now weak with immense, unspeakable relief.

"Palpatine?" he asked reluctantly.

"You killed him, Uncle. Two years ago. You and Master Windu, while Dad was on Utapau. He was the Sith Lord, and you found out and stopped him," Ani said.

"Padme?" it was a barely audible, broken whisper.

"She's all right," Obi Wan said. "We--lost the baby, but you saved her too. Just like you saved Ani. Do you remember?"

He gave a small nod, swallowing convulsively, but his resistance broke, and he began to sob softly. Obi Wan moved further inside and sank down beside him. He wrapped his arms around Anakin and drew the tormented young man's head against his chest. Reflexively, desperately, Anakin clung to him, only half aware of Ani following his father into the room and kneeling on the opposite side of him. Obi Wan rocked and shushed him, murmuring soft, wordless comfort until his sobs subsided and the trembling finally abated.

Gradually, he stopped rocking, but he didn't move away. Anakin held himself completely still, terrified that if he moved or even breathed too deeply Obi Wan would let him go. He half lay with his cheek against his former Master's chest, taking comfort in the slow rhythm of his heartbeat and the strength of an embrace that he knew Ani often felt but that he seldom had, even as a boy. For a long time, he didn't dare speak. Then, he swallowed again and gathered his courage.

"What's happening to me?" he asked, hoping that Obi Wan wouldn't take the question as a cue to break contact. The terror had faded, but it still lurked somewhere close by, and Obi Wan's nearness was the only thing keeping it from rending Anakin Skywalker in two. He shivered, freezing for reasons he couldn't explain.

"Palpatine attacked you mentally during the duel in his office," Obi Wan explained, gently stroking Anakin's hair as he spoke. "He must have realized that he was going to lose the battle and tried to implant a telepathic command that triggered false memories. Some sort of contingency plan in case he failed to turn you. As near as we can tell, you resisted him, but the command manifests through your subconscious as these…Darth Vader nightmares."

"Nightmares?!" now he laughed, a hysterical edge in his voice.

"Shhh," Obi Wan soothed. "That's all it is, Anakin. A nightmare. It never happened. There was no Mustafar."

He tried to pull away, but Obi Wan tightened his grip, holding him firmly, and Anakin simply couldn't bring himself to shove his friend away. "I lived more than twenty years in that suit--every minute of it!--every second!"

"I know," Obi Wan replied sympathetically. "Palpatine had a long time to develop those memories. In fact, it's possible that he'd been implanting them for years, burying them somewhere in your subconscious mind so that all he had to do that night was trigger them himself. But they're not real, I promise you."

"I--" Anakin gulped, unsure what to believe. The evidence of his own eyes made it clear that no two decades had passed. Ani was still a boy; Obi Wan was here--on Coruscant--acting as if nothing had changed between them. Well. Almost nothing. He couldn't imagine a time before when Obi Wan would have treated him with such patience and understanding. Still, there was part of him that wanted to curl his lip in disgust--part of him which had spent half a lifetime in a haze of pain, immersed in Sith teaching that he could only have learned from Palpatine. Could _that much_ have been some implanted memory, some illusion that Palpatine had created in order to turn him after the fact?

Yet how could Obi Wan have fabricated such a story? Why would he have done that anyway? Anakin could sense no deception in him. Palpatine on the other hand had proven himself to be a liar time and again--even in these--dreams…?

"Anakin, listen to me. Padme, Ani, and I--we're your family. We love you. We're not trying to trick you. Search your feelings. You know I am telling you the truth," Obi Wan said quietly.  
He didn't answer. He couldn't. He was so utterly confused that he had no idea what his feelings really told him anymore--except…

"You would never do any of the things that Darth Vader did in your dream, Anakin," Obi Wan went on.

He closed his eyes, but hot tears pricked out from under his tightly shut eyelids, trickling down his cheek to soak into Obi Wan's shirt. Still he said nothing, but now he didn't dare. Now, he knew that his former Master was telling him the truth, but not for the reasons that Obi Wan expected. Only Obi Wan would have said something like that--and he only _could_ have said it if there had been no Mustafar, no slaughter in the Jedi temple, no Death Star where he stood watching as Darth Vader sliced his son's limbs off. Anakin couldn't answer because, in his deepest heart, he knew what Palpatine had known--that he very easily could have done those things--just as he had murdered the Sandpeople after his mother died. Obi Wan couldn't know that, though. He must never know!

_If he finds out, he'll hate me!_ Anakin thought, starting to pull away again.

Obi Wan let out a soft sigh, but he didn't try to keep Anakin still this time. Instantly, the young Jedi felt a pang of regret, and hesitated, lost in a confusing whirl of conflicting desires. He longed to stay here, safe, protected even from himself in Obi Wan's arms, awash in warmth of an affection he seldom felt, a kind of open and unconditional acceptance that he rarely received from anyone—especially _this_ man, from whom he wanted it enough that he would have tried to be anything. Yet he knew that if he stayed like this much longer, he might let his guard down too far, give away the secrets that he knew Obi Wan would _never_ accept.

Ani reached to lay a hand on Anakin's shoulder, the small fingers squeezing reassuringly. Anakin instinctively flinched away, clinging more tightly than ever to Obi Wan. Vader had cut off that hand--how could the boy reach out to touch him with it so casually? He shuddered violently, beset once again by the inexplicable cold. _Why was everything so cold?_

Obi Wan shifted on the floor to be able to cradle him more comfortably. Guiding Anakin's head back down until this time it was settled on his shoulder, he turned toward his son. Anakin didn't try to follow his gaze but closed his eyes, suddenly coming to the terrifying realization that it was the boy, not Obi Wan, who would ultimately see through him.

"I'm cold," he said into Obi Wan's shoulder.

"I know," he promised, his hand moving soothingly up against the back of Anakin's head. "Get the blankets off the bed, Ani. We need to wrap him up and get him warm again."

"Yes, sir," Ani whispered, hurrying to do what his father asked.  
Anakin lay helpless in Obi Wan's arms, shuddering with a cold so deep that he thought it would soon make his bones snap while Ani pulled the thick covers off of his bed and brought them back. He and Obi Wan wrapped the Knight up in them, a feat made more difficult by both the uncontrollable shuddering and the fact that Anakin had become completely incapable of either looking at the boy or letting his father go. He hadn't even been this cold on that horrible first night off of Tatooine.

"W-why is it so cold?" he asked plaintively. "Obi Wan…I can't breathe…it's so cold…"

"Hurry, son. You don't have much time."  



	135. Brightening Night

Ani raised his arms and slowly pushed himself out of the snow. Frigid wind bit at the exposed skin on his face, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself. Turning his head from one side to the other, he tried to figure out exactly where he was. There was nothing around him as far as the eye could see, nothing but an endless expanse of blinding white snow and slate-gray sky. He thought for a moment that it could be Hoth, the ice planet that Han and Luke had discovered and which would eventually shelter the new Rebel Base. In that case, the vision might well be a warning of some kind. Was Echo Base destined to be conquered? Perhaps there was some way that he could get a message to his father —but no. This wasn't Hoth; this barren waste was no natural landscape at all. Shivering, he started to move, though he had no idea where the vision would take him.

_Why is everything so cold?_ he thought again.

It didn't have to be so cold in a vision; he knew it wasn't real. Shaking the thought from his mind, he looked down at himself, although he kept moving even as he took a self-inventory, if only because doing so generated body heat. He found that he was dressed, oddly, not in his own clothes but in old style Jedi robes like the ones his father had taken to wearing again after the Clone Wars. Without even turning to look over his shoulder, he knew that he was also carrying a pack of some sort. He couldn't determine simply by its weight what might have been inside it, and he wondered briefly whether he should stop to examine its contents.

"Hurry, son. You don't have much time."

"What?" he spun toward the sound of his father's voice. "Dad--?"

On the heels of the question, realization dawned. He understood exactly where he was and what he was doing here. Drawing on the Force, he broke into a run, his boots crunching rapidly in and out of the heavy snow as he moved. For a while, the terrain remained exactly the same. Then gradually, the ground began to slope, and he realized that he was running uphill. What began as a gentle incline became one so steep that he felt as if he were trying to scale a wall rather than run up a hill. Each step became more difficult, and he had to call on the Force more and more just to keep up his pace. Twice, he staggered and slid back down the way he'd come, but eventually he crested the hill, and from the top of it he could see the gleam of a frozen river.

Skidding and sliding all the way to the bottom, he ran to the river's edge and then knelt in the snow, planting his hands in it to lean over the bank as his keen eyes searched for what he knew he must find. His hands quickly went numb from the cold, and his pant legs were soaked from the knee down in seconds, but he ignored the discomfort, tensely waiting until--there! Just below the ice, carried along by a current he had no room to fight was a human form dressed in robes cut identically to Ani's--but heavier, made of leather rather than the lighter, more traditional fabric.

Ani's lightsaber was in his hand in an instant, and the heat of the blade began to melt the ice even before it struck. The river's frozen surface crackled and split, shattering noisily as the combination of the lightsaber's heat and the rushing current pushed the ice apart. Ani plunged into the frigid water without hesitation, submersing his head, shoulders and torso as he grabbed for Anakin, caught a fistful of leather in each hand, and hauled the Knight roughly to the surface.

Anakin heaved and wretched, spewing water up from his lungs. Then he began to shudder violently, gagging and wheezing as he struggled to take in air. Ani reached outward through the Force, using it to telekinetically massage the spasmodic musculature of Anakin's chest and throat as the Knight had once done for Ani's infant heart.

"Breathe, Uncle," he encouraged as he touched Anakin's mind with his own, deftly employing his empathic gifts to siphon off the other man's raging panic. "Just breathe."

An air passage finally opened enough so that Anakin could drag oxygen into his tortured lungs--one agonizing, labored breath at a time. Ani didn't waste time watching but pulled the pack off of his back. His eyes widened when he realized what was inside--nothing but the blankets which had covered his bed on Coruscant all those years ago. He didn't stop to think about the fact that they should never have been enough; his visions were seldom literal, and even if this one had been, the blankets were still all he had.

"I've got to get you warm," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he wrapped them around Anakin's shivering body.

Once he had done so, Anakin's agitation visibly lessened. Ani wrapped his arms around the Knight, drawing Anakin back against his chest so that the heat of his body would add to whatever warmth the blankets gave him. Gradually, Anakin's trembling stopped. He half lay there for a while, his head resting on Ani's shoulder, and neither of them moved.

"I knew you were here," Ani said after a while, his voice raw and husky with emotion.  
Anakin gave a weak smile, but when he spoke, his tone was full of warning. "He's here too, Ani. We don't have a lot of time."

Ani closed his eyes and nodded. He'd already known that, of course, but he had hoped that Anakin wouldn't push things forward quite so soon. "What do we have to do?"

"I have to show you something," explained Anakin. "It's important, Ani--you have to remember everything you see."

"I'll remember," he promised.

Rising, Anakin led them through the snow until they reached the gaping black mouth of a cave. It was so dark that the light outside seemed to be swallowed by it, and if not for the shrill, harsh screams that echoed out to them, Ani would have wondered if anything could have been in there at all. Though he was already frozen to the point of being numb, a new, different kind of shudder passed through him at the sound. Anakin stopped and pressed a hand to his face, pale and visibly trembling.

"I'll go alone," Ani offered.

"No," his uncle replied quickly. "We'll do it together."

Then he slid passed Ani to lead the way into the darkness, his footsteps moving at a slow, resigned pace that never wavered. The blackness was so complete within the cave that even Anakin's silhouette disappeared from view. Ani could see nothing, and as they moved, he was forced to rely only on Anakin's plodding footfalls in front of him and the sound of the screams in the shrinking distance. Pain--suffering--assaulted him, and he couldn't push it aside as they moved. He could only walk through it--or more accurately, he supposed he should say that he could only walk further into it.

Deep inside, they finally found a small conical wedge of light, but the blackness around it was still so complete that Anakin's shadow was invisible to his namesake's eyes. Only the Force and the harsh, rapid beat of the other's breath told him that he was not alone before the garish sight that awaited them. In the center of the bright spotlight loomed a surgical table surrounded by four gleaming med droids. The screams were emanating from their patient--or what was left of him--an armless, legless head and torso, charred completely black by the terrible heat of Mustafar's volcanic flow.

Ani automatically reached toward his namesake, wanting to offer him comfort and support, but Anakin pulled roughly away. As he did so, he momentarily moved into the edge of the spotlight, and Ani saw not only terror but rage smoldering in his blue eyes. Then the anger faded, Anakin's expression shifted to one of shame and regret. He ducked his head, gesturing toward the table where his past self still lay screaming.

"Remember," he intoned.

The stench that rose off of the charred hunk of human meat on the table would have been enough make even Yoda vomit. Ani's stomach clenched and twisted inside him. He wanted to wretch, and he had to fight the irrational urge to scream at the droids to stop what they were doing. Fury burned in him as he watched the metal arms scrape and prod Anakin's tormented flesh. He knew that it was a vision, that nothing he did or said here could change any part of what had already happened, but everything in him screamed with outrage at what was being done to the man on the table.

"Ani," his uncle's voice snapped in a crisp rebuke. "You are wasting time."

"Yes, Uncle," he nodded quickly. Then he stepped inside the glaring cone of light and edged himself between two of the droids. Assaulted by pain that was not his own, revolted beyond his power to express, Ani stood utterly still. His body wanted to shake and break out into a cold sweat, but he would not allow it to do so. He forced himself to regard the man on the table with cold, crystalline detachment. He narrowed his focus until nothing existed beyond the barrier of light, and then again until nothing existed beyond the table where Anakin Skywalker writhed in unspeakable agony. Then he drew in a breath and opened his mind further, allowing sensory detail to flow over and through him, permeating his consciousness. In this way, he absorbed far more about the scope of Anakin's injuries and exactly what had been done to him than he would have been able to by conventional means. He stood impassively cataloguing both the obvious physical damage that his senses took in directly and the damage to internal organs, nerve and bone that he could intuit through what he saw and the leading of the Force. Even as the droids began to weld prosthesis in place, he didn't move, but instead paid particularly close attention to the meshing of metal and flesh. Later, with Isaly's help, he would bring everything he saw back into the forefront of his mind, and with it, hopefully find a way to undo enough of the horrendous transformation that Vader might be able to able to move about in relative comfort.

Finally, the droids finished their work and moved away from the table. Ani lowered his head as the mask descended over his uncle's face. Unable to watch anymore, he turned toward the shadow which still waited outside the barrier of light. Taking a breath, he started toward Anakin again, then froze in horror as the shadow's eyes became visible...now the lurid yellow of immersion in the Dark Side.

"I love you," he said resolutely. "And I will find a way to help you. I promise."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If anyone is still lost, these two chapters are the two halves of a joint Force vision. They are not italicized the way that most of the visions in this fic have been for two reasons. One, that much italics hurts my eyes. Two, I thought it might help to show how confused Vader's mind has become in regard to the Kenobis.


	136. Fear

"Head wounds bleed a lot," Shmi muttered to herself, still holding the boy's rolled up tunic against her grandmother's forehead. "Mommy always said it when she was working with the healers. Head wounds bleed, and it makes them look worse than they are."

She hoped that was true now, because Padme was still only semi conscious, and she hadn't said anything since they made it out of the ship. The bleeding had slowed but not completely stopped, and she knew that if she didn't _get_ it stopped, her grandmother would pass out from blood loss. Her mother had also talked about concussions, and the last thing a healer wanted was a patient with head trauma falling asleep. If that happened, the person might never wake up again.

"This isn't going to be enough, either," she added with a glance down at the now blood-soaked piece of clothing.

"There is another way you can help her," Qui-Gon said suddenly.

"Qui-Gon!" she looked up with a start. "Do something!"

"I can't," the Jedi Spirit replied solemnly. "But you can."

"What!?" she cried, her vision blurring with hot tears as she glared up at him.

"Shmi, listen to me. Don't center your fears, remember? Center on the Force. Use it to help your grandmother," he instructed.

"What do I do?" she asked, holding back a sob.

"Calm yourself. Clear your mind," he said, hunkering down beside her.

She sniffled and nodded, closing her eyes. That much was elementary to her; she had heard those particular statements all of her life, and she had learned enough to know how to find the calm center within her. She didn't open her eyes when she reached it but simply waited for Qui-Gon to speak again.

"Good," he said softly. "Now, gather the Force around you. Pull it toward yourself, as if it were water, then push it out again toward Padme. Use it to do what you're trying to do with Jareth's tunic."

She didn't waste time asking him why he didn't show her how to just _heal_ the wound. There was no time for discussion, and she wasn't sure that Force healing was something he could teach this way, but what he was asking her to do was another matter. It took concentration and focus, but it wasn't much more difficult than the other small tricks she had learned to do. After a few minutes of this, she felt in the Force that that the wound was closing. She opened her eyes and looked down at Padme who smiled back weakly.

"You still have to stay awake, Grandma," she said, touching Padme's cheek with her bloody fingers. Then she looked at Qui-Gon. "Where's that kid? What did you say his name was?"

"Jareth," Qui-Gon replied with a smile that seemed oddly sneaky. "And I'm not sure. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find out," he said, and then abruptly vanished before he could say anything else.

She raised her eyes to the sky and sighed. "He is such a weirdo."

------ 

"Mom, Mom!" Jareth burst through the door into the bright, open space of his family kitchen. His heart sank as he realized that the lunch dishes were still on the table as they had been when he had finished eating more-- than an hour ago. His mother valued a clean home, and if she had left them this long, it could only mean that she'd been called away on some medical emergency.

He took a few heaving breaths and leaned against the table for a minute, trying to figure out what to do next. There was no telling when his mom would be home, and there was no time to try and get a message to her. Even if she answered her comlink, she could only be in one place at a time. Once he'd composed himself, he took off at run once more, this time heading back out of the cottage and across the neatly kept lawn. He remembered almost too late not to trample the herb garden in his haste to reach the shed beyond it. Slapping his hand against the palm sensor, he slid inside before the doors had fully opened.

Against one wall of the shed was a trio of long, flat sleds equipped with restraints and anti-grav units which could be used as stretchers in cases like this, when a patient had to be immobilized for a trip up off the canyon floor. He had never used one by himself, but he had helped his mother steer the stretchers and watch out for the accident victim's head enough times that he knew--at least in theory--what had to be done. The girl was smart, too. She could help.

"Jareth--" Began a familiar voice behind him.

"I don't have time to play right now, Qui-Gon," he interrupted, hopping onto the nearest of the sleds to reach the medkit on the shelf above it.

"No you don't," the Jedi Spirit replied. "But you may well have to use what I've been showing you."

"Huh?" he sprang off the sled and tossed the medkit onto it then began guiding it through the shed and out into the yard.

Qui-Gon followed him out. "There's going to be trouble, Jareth. Remember what I told you--"

"Then--" Jareth started, spinning toward the house again. Then he bit his lip. The well all the way at the edge of the property; he'd never understood why it had to be back there, and now it seemed even more foolish than he had originally thought. He knew he had to hurry, but if there was going to be trouble, then shouldn't he have--?

"Leave it," Qui-Gon told him quietly but firmly. "Come back for it later if you can."

"What…?" he frowned up at the Force Ghost.

"No questions!" Qui-Gon said with a wave of his hand in the direction of the canyon. "Go!"

He ran. Guiding the stretcher slowed him down, especially when he reached the canyon and had to maneuver it down the steep, rocky incline to the floor. His senses prickled about halfway down and he froze, going utterly silent. Then he spotted another TIE fighter streaking out of the sky. This one almost collided with the first but veered at the last moment. The evasive maneuver cost the pilot though, and the ship went into a low altitude spin, tumbling end over end as it landed.

"Man, Qui-Gon," Jareth mumbled as he ran down to meet the latest arrival. "Could've told me I was gonna need another stretcher."

------

At first, the only thing that Vader heard was the crackling squeal of static and feedback. He consciously resisted the urge to jerk his head to one side, since his years of experience in the suit had taught him that abrupt motion would only make the noise worse. He waited for it to pass, opening his eyes, but all he could see for the first few moments was a haze of red inside of which two darker red, hairy blobs seemed to be moving. Then he realized that his nose was broken. There were other injuries, too, places where pain flared hotter and fresher than it usually did or where he could feel the suit's lining grinding against the raw, bleeding mass of newly opened wounds. Using that pain as a focal point for his anger, he drew on the Force and used it to burn away the fog that still clouded his mind. Words began to drift through the static, gradually allowing him to follow the thread of a strange, high pitched conversation.

"…waking…"

"Well, what…do now?"

"…don't know!"

"Okay, okay. Sorry."

Where was he? Vader struggled to discern something meaningful in his surroundings. Fading dream images still filtered through his mind--Coruscant, little Ani, Obi-Wan--and his physical senses--he wouldn't call them human any longer--were virtually useless. In the Force, he felt three presences--all unusually strong. Two were familiar, though one was more so than the other. That one was fading in and out as if--

_I don't want her to die!_

_Padme!_ he thought with a surge of fear and adrenaline.

"Lord Vader?" a small voice asked. "Can you hear me?"

His mind reeled at the question. For the moment he heard the echo of Palpatine's voice just before he had broken his durasteel restraints in a torrent of grief, rage, and anguish. Then, suddenly, he was hurled farther back, to the operating table where his charred head and torso were scraped and prodded, mechnos were welded in place without the benefit of any anesthetic, and he learned the meaning of hell with the stench of his own oozing flesh in his nostrils. This time, though--somehow--he was also standing _beside_ the table, watching with an eerie dissociated interest…

"Ani?"

_Ani had been standing beside the table._ As soon as the realization struck him, he recoiled, reaching inward toward the core of constant, cold fury which filled his heart. For a moment, though, he found that he could not reach it. _Padme._ He sought for her in the Force and realized that it was _her_ presence he had felt wavering.  
Those blundering fools should have _realized_ who was in the fighter. They should have known not to shoot the craft down that way! If any harm had come to her…if he lost Padme _now_--again--after all that he had gone through to get her--The two small voices were speaking again, and he finally understood where he was--who they were--or who one of them was at least.

"What did you say?" Shmi Kenobi asked.

Vader hadn't realized that he had spoken the name aloud. It took him another moment to process the child's surprise, then he understood that as well. So they had never told her who he was. Then they probably had not told Luke, either. That could be used to his advantage. Such an easy way to drive a wedge between the brothers…

Still relying heavily on the Force, he pulled himself upright. He sensed a joint burst of fear from the children, but neither of them actually shrank away from the place they were kneeling beside him. A shadow brushed across the edge of his limited vision, and he turned his head in time to see a small hand come down on his shoulder. There was something odd about those fingers, but he couldn't see well enough to determine what it was.

"You gotta stay still," the boy said. Then his hand abruptly jerked away, and he seemed to remember just who he was addressing. He gulped. "Lord Vader. Sir."

"Padme!" Vader demanded impatiently, climbing to his feet. Now Shmi did back up, and she sprang to her feet, planting herself squarely in his path. "Where is she?"

"None of your business!"

Another time, Vader might have admired her bravery. Now, he didn't have time for it. Dismissing the children, he turned in the direction that he still felt Padme's presence and stalked toward it. They had tried to hide her behind a stand of trees. Vader pushed through them, aware of both children's footsteps clattering after him but paying them no mind. He found Padme resting against the trunk of a tree. Her head was bowed forward, but she looked upward sluggishly as he approached.

Vader knelt carefully, ignoring the screaming protests of his own body as he reached out with his too large, clumsy metal fingers to brush back the hair from her forehead. There was a good deal of blood, but it felt dry to his touch, and--he whirled around at a sudden whisper of warning in the Force, bringing up the palm of his hand just barely in time to absorb the bolt of energy that streaked toward him.

For a moment, he stared in utter disbelief. Then, if he could have smiled beneath his mask, he honestly would have. Shmi Kenobi was standing behind him with her feet planted apart, holding a blaster in both hands. Her stance, posture, and what he could read of her expression all told him that she knew how to use the weapon. He supposed that shouldn't have surprised him given what he had just seen her do with the fighter a short time ago. She grappled with the fear that he sensed rising in her when she realized that he could not only deflect but absorb blaster bolts with his hand. A bare few seconds later, though, the girl had mastered that fear--mastered, though not banished it.

"I won't let you hurt my grandma!"


	137. Collision Course

_Two blue blades, their hilts held in the hands of men who had been brothers, clashed in the volcanic heat of Mustafar. Death flowed hot all around them, but on Dagobah, this death had come long ago. It was the death of hope, the death of innocence. Still deep in his vision, Anakin Kenobi watched the warriors of light and dark collide again. _

They were perfectly matched. After a lifetime of training together, a war fought side by side, they knew each other so well that they had become one being--complimentary halves of a single whole. They were an expression of the intrinsic conflict of the universe itself, but that universe was in upheaval. Here and now, the Force was striving to bring itself into balance.

Their weapons flashed. Each sidestepped the other's leaps, each came on with high flying kicks, whirling and slicing through the storm that had become the Force. They parried punches and skipped over ankle sweeps without missing a beat. Yet Obi Wan gave ground with every exchange. He let himself slip naturally onto the defensive. It was his way--the way of a Soresu Master--and it was more. Because although he knew that he must defeat Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker was still his brother, and to strike his brother down would destroy him.

As Ani watched, the vision shimmered, twisted, and exploded into a glittering cascade of energy. That torrent poured around and through him, filling him and connecting him, as it always did, with the events he witnessed, whether what he saw were images of the past, present or future. In the Force, time, like all things, was alive--fluid. The vision reformed, and suddenly he was not on Mustafar at all but on a world he had never seen. Several humanoid forms were clustered around a stand of trees, and slowly he recognized them. The blood went cold in his veins as he understood. His mother slumped against the trunk of a tree. His daughter stood a few feet away wielding a blaster as Jareth stood beside her. Between the children and Padme loomed the menacing black metal figure of Darth Vader.

"I won't let you hurt my grandma!"

"She needs to be taken to a medcenter," Vader replied coldly. "Are you going to do that yourself?"

"If I have to!" Shmi told him fiercely.

"Fortunately for Padme, you don't," Vader said in the same icy tone.

Then, Obi Wan's voice echoed out of the past, and Ani found himself on Mustafar again. "Please. Let me take my wife to a medcenter. She's hurt, Anakin. She needs medical attention..."

This time, though, it was not a Naboo skiff that glided to a landing on the platform outside the command center. It was the Millennium Falcon, which swooped down and circled the reconstructed building before it set down. It was not Anakin Skywalker who went out to meet the ship this time--if it had been even during the Clone Wars. Ani was no longer sure. This time, though, there was no doubt that it was Darth Vader—just as it had been in all of the nightmares that both he and his mother had had when he was a boy. The Falcon's loading ramp extended and Obi Wan walked down to meet him… 

Ani opened his eyes to find that he was staring at the dirt floor of his bedroom on Dagobah. He automatically rolled onto his back and brought up his right forearm to cover his eyes. Echoes of another vision reverberated through his skull.

_"Stay there, Ani…stay there." _

The phrase had been repeated to him time and again throughout the last set of visions he had experienced--in the cave on Yavin 4 where he had constructed his saberstaff. Even Anakin Skywalker had warned him. He gave a bitter laugh. Every instinct told him that he needed to be with his father; he needed to be on Mustafar. Obi Wan could not go alone. If he had had a way off of Dagobah now, nothing could have stopped him--warning or no warning, vision or no vision. Kenobis did not let one another walk into Sith traps alone. The fact was, however, that he had no way off of Dagobah. Which meant that he could only wait.

------

_"Please. Let me take my wife to a medcenter. She's hurt, Anakin. She needs medical attention..." _

"She stays," the Sith's reply was flat and icy in the old Jedi's mind, just as it had been all those years ago. He held back a weary sigh but didn't resist the memory. A tight group had gathered around him as soon as the holomessage came in. They drew closer now, and Bail Organa laid a hand on his shoulder. 

_"Anakin--"_ he heard himself attempt, and he remembered his own desperate hope. He had felt that hope waning, but he couldn't give it up--couldn't let go, not of this man, his best friend, who had been both son and brother to him for so long by then that even his own memories of earlier times seemed to have belonged to someone else.

_"You don't get to take her anywhere. You don't get to touch her anymore. She's mine now, do you understand? It's your fault, all of it--you took her from me, and you made her betray me!" he roared._

Luke and Leia stood at either side of him, each carrying a lightsaber. Leia had built her own of course but Luke still wore the one that Anakin had dueled with that horrible day. Both of the twins looked at him now, doing their best to maintain patient expressions, but he could feel the tension and anxiety pouring off of them. Not just them. Isaly stood on Leia's right with her own twins clutching her hands. Han waited on her left, not even making a pretense at patience and barely managing not to pace. Wedge was beside Luke, and the other members of Rogue Group were ranged behind them, worried, angry, most of them feeling very much like Han did at the moment. Even Jar Jar and his son Abso were here, their orange skin now dulled to the color of rust with worry for Padme and Shmi. The only ones who weren't here were Chewbacca and Ani. Chewie was still recovering aboard one of the medical frigates, and Ani would have no way off of Dagobah. That unsettled him a bit--no, more than a bit--but it seemed to be the will of the Force that his firstborn not accompany them this time. His confrontation with Anakin would come later. Now, Obi Wan let the memory play out.

_"Anakin, she was never yours. She hasn't betrayed you. You betrayed her. You betrayed her faith in you," Obi Wan said wearily.  
The Sith's reply was to ignite his light saber. Obi Wan Kenobi sighed and raised his own, left only one choice--left no choice at all. "Then I will do what I must." _

"You will try," Darth Vader sneered. 

"Oh, I'll do more than that," he murmured aloud.

"What are we going to do, Dad?" Luke frowned.

He turned and looked up at his younger son, and he was surprised to find that he actually gave a half smile. "Son, we are going to get them back."

The message from Vader had been simple. A single word that told him everything he needed to know--his worst nightmare. _Mustafar._

------

The room in which Shmi and Jareth were held aboard the _Executor_ was as stark and cold as the rest of the ship. There were two bunks, each attached to opposite walls, and a third wall with cube-shaped lockers set against it. Shmi was reminded of the billet that her Uncle Luke had shared with Wedge on Yavin 4. She wondered vaguely why they were being kept here and not in a cell, but the truth was that she didn't particularly want to call attention to the oddity of that situation by asking Vader. Jareth was perched on the edge of the bunk opposite from hers, unconsciously swinging his feet as he considered the situation. He'd been in the exact same position for over an hour, which was utterly beyond Shmi's ability to fathom. Kids were just not supposed to be that still. When she had asked what he was doing, he had only replied that he was thinking. Shmi wasn't content to be so patient or thoughtful.

"I'm sick of waiting around here!" she declared. It had been a full day and night since one of Vader's lieutenants had arrived with a shuttle to take them back to the mammoth ship. The Dark Lord had _said_ that he was going to take Padme to a medcenter, but Shmi hadn't been allowed to see her since they boarded the ship. The only one they had seen was Vader, who was alternately terrifying with his silent stares and befuddling with his apparent interest in both of them. He'd asked them if they were hungry once, and later a protocol droid had appeared bearing trays of food. It showed up at regular intervals, as did Vader himself, and although he expected both of them to answer his questions about their families, he never _once_ answered any of Shmi's inquiries about her grandmother, except to say that she was on board and that they would see her when they reached their destination.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"I want to find my grandma," she replied.

"And do what? We can't get away," he pointed out.

"I don't care! I need to know she's okay," Shmi insisted.

"Vader said she was," Jareth reminded her.

"The key phrase there being '_Vader_ said,'" Shmi raised an eyebrow.

Jareth sighed softly and looked around the room again. After a few minutes, he craned his neck and squinted up at the grille that covered the ventilation shaft behind him. "It looks too small for a grownup, but I think we can fit if we scrunch down and wriggle on our elbows."

Shmi looked up at the bolted vent. "If we can get in."

He nodded and hopped off of the bunk. "Help me put those lockers on the bed."

They pushed the stacked cubes onto the floor, then shoved and dragged them over to his bunk. Once there, they had to use the Force in order to lift them onto the bed. The effort was immense for the two children, especially with the possibility that they could be discovered weighing on their minds. Jareth was better at it then Shmi, but she had had little practice with using the Force in this way. He apparently had, which made her immensely curious, but she decided to put her questions aside for the moment. She had no energy to spare for them now.

As soon as they had the lockers re-balanced atop the bunk, they collapsed on either side of the stack, both exhausted. Shmi took a few moments to catch her breath then pushed herself erect. Jareth was already doing the same. He climbed to his feet, then sprang from the bunk to the top of the stack, landing catlike on all fours. Shmi's eyes widened, and she blinked in surprise.

"How did you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Jump like that."

"I'm Lasishi," he replied with a shrug, standing up in order to examine the vent. After a few seconds, he reached his hand down toward her, wiggling his fingers. "Gimme one of your hair things."

"Where's the rest of your fur?" Shmi asked conversationally, reaching up to unclip one of her braids. Then she decided that she looked ridiculous with one section of hair hanging down while the others were still pinned to her head and started taking out the other clips as well.

"Okay, I'm _half_ Lasishi," Jareth muttered in annoyance. "C'mon, will ya?"

"Sorry," she said, slipping the silver clip into his hand.

"Girls," he sighed to himself, shaking his head as he started to bend the hairpiece out of shape.

"Excuse me?!"

"Girls!" he repeated louder.

"If we weren't stuck on Darth Vader's flagship right now, I'd show you a thing or two about girls," Shmi glared up at him.

"Yeah," Jareth said, biting his upper lip in concentration while he slowly worked the clip down inside the vent and tried to loosen one of the bolts, "well, when we ain't trying to escape from a Sith with a Super Star Destroyer, feel free."

"Don't worry," she promised. "I will."

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Okay, I know that in my last update, I talked about a schedule.It is still on my LJ and is still where you should look when you're wondering when something will be updated on One Path. However, I finished several scheduled projects early this week, so I was able to devote more time to finishing this story arc. I hope to have it complete this weekend, but I give no guarantees.

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-Addendum 1/18/08-

Okay, I just wrote this up for someone and I thought it would be helpful to add it to my notes. I don't really want to put it on the main notes in my profile because it kind of ruins the suspense.

Okay. I was too tired to write a long explanation in my notes last night. The snow location IS Vader's mind. That's where Ani is, but in order for him to get in there, he had to get past Vader so that he could GET to Anakin. The point of the crash was to temporarily knock Vader out, so he hasn't been hurt that badly. He is extremely well used to using the Force to compensate for pain and inability to move, and in fact pain is what allows him to focus his anger, so his injuries are actually giving him what he needs in order to ignore them for the moment. He doesn't sleep, so the only way to bypass his conscious mind is to make him literally unconscious, if even just for the space of a short time, say twenty minutes, in which the kids had to figure out how to drag him out of the TIE and wake him up. I'm sorry for the confusion on that point, but the scene just would not have worked properly from Shmi's perspective, so I had to have Vader wake up from his own POV and he doesn't know how much time has passed. Some readers seem to be getting that point, while others aren't, so I'm not sure whether a re-write is necessary. Aruna didn't know where I was going with this before she read it and her reaction was positive, so I had assumed that I was okay to post the chapters.  
To elaborate on the vision.

Anakin/Vader's psyche is essentially divided. Consciously, Vader thinks that Anakin is dead. In reality, Anakin exists, but is buried so far within Vader's subconscious mind that he can only exert any influence when Vader isn't looking. The two halves of thet vision are linked; Obi-Wan, who also exists as a part of Vader's subconscious, is on a kind of guard duty while Vader's mind is telling him the one thing that he really most wants to hear. "Mustafar never happened. You have your life back." This way Ani can symbolically free Anakin, wrap him up in the security of the life he has lost, and Anakin can show Ani what he needs to find out, since that particular memory is one that Vader would be particularly careful NOT to let anyone near.

Yes, they're going to Mustafar.

When I said "finishing the story arc" I meant finishing the current arc that is being posted, as in "what happens with Padme being hurt, captured by Vader, and Obi-Wan having to cart the entire clan off to Mustafar for a confrontation with Vader" rather than "finishing One Path". Apparently I need to learn to communicate.


	138. What Binds Us

Luke slid out the Council Room door behind Bail and Obi Wan, then quickened his pace a bit to catch up to the older men. He shook his hair out of his face and dropped into step on Obi Wan's right, not speaking as the three of them strode purposefully toward the hangar where the _Falcon_ was already awaiting liftoff. He wasn't sure that he'd ever seen his father this way, and it was oddly disconcerting. He knew, of course, that Obi Wan had been both a Jedi Knight and a general in the Grand Army of the Republic. For him, though, his father had always been a soft-spoken, contemplative man who radiated calm and tranquility. Once the initial shock of realizing exactly who held Padme and Shmi had worn off, he had begun to see a new intensity in Obi Wan. He was as calm and soft-spoken as ever, but the Force itself crackled around the Jedi Master, and though his feelings remained under the same relentless, perfect control that they usually were, Luke sensed a fierce, protective anger from his father that would have made him distinctly nervous if he had been one whit less furious in his own right.

High Command had been more than willing to assign the Rogues to the rescue party. It was quite fortunate that they had, in fact, since Luke assured his father that they would all be flying escort to the Falcon with or without official leave to do so. There had been some concern about the notion of a Rebel general negotiating with Vader for Padme's release, but Obi Wan had told them in no uncertain terms that, despite the old moniker that had been pinned on him during the Clone Wars, he had no intention of negotiating with the Sith. Luke knew that his father would not attack Vader in anger; no matter how he or any of the family felt right now, that was simply not the Jedi way. Still, he was comforted to find his own emotions echoed in Obi Wan's.  
Despite that, a deep unease had settled in his chest. Part of it was simple, healthy fear of Vader--not so much for himself as for the rest of his family. There was no telling what the Sith Lord might do to Padme or Shmi, and the last time that Obi Wan had faced him, Vader had come close to killing both him and Ani. Beyond his fear, or perhaps interwoven with it, was the fact of Ani's absence. Logically, he knew that between the Rogues, Han, Leia, and his father, there was no tactical reason that Ani should have to come on this mission. Still, there was an ever-present and inescapable certainty within him that all of the Kenobis needed to be there. He knew that Obi Wan felt it too.

"What's wrong?" Obi Wan asked as they entered the hangar.

"Ani should be here," Luke replied.

"I know," his father agreed with a troubled nod. "In fact, when we have your mother back, she is going to kill me for _daring_ to do this without him. But we haven't time to go after him. Vader is volatile, entirely unpredictable. I don't want to leave them with him for one second more than we have to. Tactically, Ani isn't needed on this mission; from what Isaly tells me, he's nowhere near ready to do battle with Vader again, and _that_ is what we are going to do."

"Yes, sir," Luke nodded. "I just can't shake the feeling that Ani _needs_ to be on Mustafar."

Obi Wan sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Neither can I."

"Well, look," Bail spoke up, laying a hand on Obi Wan's shoulder. "You certainly don't need _me_ on Mustafar."

"What?" Obi Wan looked up at him.

"I'm not a Jedi; I won't be much help to you fighting Vader, and I would most likely just slow Han and Leia down while they're trying to get inside and find Padme and Shmi. Let me go to Dagobah after Ani," Bail offered.

Obi Wan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly nodded, "All right. Thank you."

One side of Bail's mouth curled upward in a smile, and he offered a half-bow of acknowledgement.

Then he spun and veered off toward his own ship, which was already prepping for liftoff. The rest of the family stood at the bottom of the _Falcon's_ boarding ramp, along with Jar Jar and Abso Bar. Spotting Obi Wan, Isaly handed the twins off to the Gungans, lightly kissing each of them, and the group moved hurriedly up the ramp.

The Rogues were already geared up and in their fighters. They were only waiting for Luke's word to lift off. He turned as well, starting toward his X-Wing, but Obi Wan caught his elbow, forcing him to halt.

"Luke," his father said softly.

He glanced back with a questioning frown. "Yeah?"

"Wedge can lead the Rogues today. I want you with me."

"But, Dad, Ani--"

"Is not our only son," Obi Wan interrupted.

"I'm not ready to fight someone like Vader!"

"Not alone, no. But you won't be alone."

"But, Leia--"

"Your sister is going to have her own task to worry about. Son, you are capable of far more than you think. There is no one else I would want at my side."

Luke lowered his head and gave a long sigh, wishing he had the same confidence in his Jedi skills as his father seemed to. "Yes, sir."

------

Padme could feel Vader's presence in the hallway, but she made no effort to get up. He had treated her well enough, and she knew that without the healers and bacta treatments that the he had provided, she might well have died of the injuries she had sustained in the crash. He had also refused to let her see Shmi, and after the things that Leia had told her, she fully expected a torture session when he walked into the room. The door slid open, and light spilled into the darkened chamber for a moment. Then his massive frame stepped into the doorway, cutting it off so abruptly that a chill went up her spine.

The sound of his breathing filled her ears. Holding herself completely still, she listened as his heavy footsteps approached her, unnaturally loud in the silent room. Was there really anything left of Anakin Skywalker? She had still felt goodness in him on Mustafar, but that had been so long ago. Now the being looming over her felt like a frigid black void--empty except for a terrible, cold rage. Ani continued to believe in him. He said that beneath the anger, the boy she knew was still there, wounded and struggling for survival. She would have to trust his judgment now. There was only one way that she might be able to save herself and Shmi from Palpatine now, and that would be to reach Anakin.

"I know you are awake," Vader's voice cracked through her thoughts like a whip.

Padme opened her eyes and slowly sat up, offering no evidence of fear, though he was sure to have sensed her emotions. She hardened her expression and stared up at him with a look of dour disapproval. "Anakin, where is my granddaughter?"

"You will address me as Lord Vader!"

"Where is Shmi?" she demanded a second time, knowing better than to engage in a battle of wills with him.

"She is fine. You will be allowed to see her when we reach our destination," he said.

"What destination?" she asked, faintly alarmed.

Vader crossed his arms, and if he could have made such an expression, she was sure that she would have seen a smirk curling smugly over his lips. "Mustafar."

She wanted very badly to reply that Obi Wan wouldn't be stupid enough to come. However, recalling a similar assertion that she had made on Devaron, she knew quite well that he would, especially now that not only she but their grandchild had been taken. She also knew and took some small measure of comfort in the fact that he wouldn't come alone.

"How do you think this is going to make Ani feel?" she asked.

"That is of no concern to me," he snapped.

"Do you mean that?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he simply stood there. The facemask he wore was as blank and expressionless as ever, but his stance and what she could detect of his feelings gave her the distinct impression of a glare. He was probably trying to intimidate her, hoping that his formidable size and menacing appearance would be enough to prove just how far Darth Vader was from the Anakin Skywalker that she remembered. What she saw, though, was a petulant little boy attempting to scowl his way out of punishment for his bad behavior. Granted, this particular petulant boy was a Sith Lord who could kill her as easily as he could look at her--but she didn't think he would. He might hurt her--badly, in fact--for no other reason than to prove that he could, but there was nothing she could do about that. Any show of fear on her part would be as good as giving him permission to attack her. She would have to gamble that there was enough of Anakin left to keep Vader in check.

"Ani has always believed in you. Even after you attacked his mother and father on Mustafar, he knew that you were still alive. That little boy was sad because no one would remember how you saved his life--and all the times you saved Obi Wan's life during the Clone Wars--"

Vader's cold rage became brittle and cracked like ice in the heat of his pain. "Obi Wan cut off my limbs and left me for dead!"

Padme pushed herself to her feet despite the throbbing in her skull. She was still far shorter than he was with the boots he wore to give him extra height, but she glared into the imperturbable nightmare of Vader's mask and said with soft finality, "You--left him--no choice."

"It would have been an act of mercy to kill me! He left me to burn!"

"Palpatine was coming. His shuttle was already there. I was still unconscious on the landing platform. If he had stayed any longer, he would have had to face the Emperor, and that is a fight he could never have won. You know it, Anakin! You knew him better than anyone; you know what he was capable of and what he wasn't. You couldn't beat Sidious even with all your strength; how could Obi Wan after he had already had to fight you? If he had tried to go back down to you, he would have died. We _all_ would have died. Sidious would have found Ani, and everything that you had tried to do to protect him would have been for nothing."

"How do you know what happened?" Vader asked in confusion.

"Ani has seen it. All of it," Padme told him relentlessly, blood pounding in her temples with every word. "He saw what happened in Palpatine's office. He knows how you tried to fight and how Palpatine threatened you. He saw what you and Obi Wan did to one another on Mustafar--as if what you put him through in the temple wasn't enough. Do you _understand_ what you have done to my son?"

"I had to save you! He would have done the same thing in my place!"

"Never," she shook her head. "Ani knows that I would rather have died than be responsible for what you have become. Except I'm _not_ responsible, Anakin, and neither is Obi Wan, because this was your choice. No one made it for you; no one forced you to slaughter younglings, and no one forced you to take up a lightsaber against your best friend."

"He was a traitor! He was plotting with the Jedi to take over the Republic!"

"You don't believe that," Padme cut through his fury with icy calm. "Maybe Palpatine convinced you of it then, but you don't believe it now. You can't when Obi Wan refused to join you because his allegiance remained with the Republic. You told me that you wanted to overthrow the Chancellor then. You still can. With us."

"What?"

"We came to Mustafar to bring you home, Anakin," she told him quietly. "You can still come home."

"You are lying!" he insisted.

"No," Padme shook her head.

Suddenly, Vader's anger flared again. "I _know_ that you were both conspiring! Palpatine was watching you! You were meeting with Organa--you presented him with that petition. You led the Delegation of 2000! Why should I believe anything you tell me?!"

Padme's tone hardened again. "The Delegation of 2000 was not a conspiracy. It was our last bid for a peaceful restoration of the Republic. We weren't the traitors, Anakin. We weren't the ones who murdered the Republic. You know that Palpatine is not to be trusted. Why do you give him your loyalty now? Why would you believe anything he has ever told you?"

"You still lied to me! Both of you!" he accused. "All of you!"

"Yes, we did," she admitted without apology. "Obi Wan and I lied to you by omission more than once. But we were trying to protect you, Ani. We loved you, and the things we kept from you were withheld because we wanted to spare you pain, not inflict it upon you. And little Ani shouldn't be made to pay the price for our mistakes."

"Why not?" demanded Vader.

"Because he loves you. No matter what you have done to him, he loves you. And now you have taken his mother and his daughter to use as bait in a trap for his father. How far do you think you can push him?"

There was a long pause while Vader seemed to consider the question. As she waited, the heavy silence weighed upon Padme almost as heavily as his Force grip had all those years ago. The sound of his breathing once again filled the room, until he broke the silence with a sneer.

"Perhaps as far as his father once pushed Anakin Skywalker. To the place where love will turn to hate. Only then will he be strong enough to destroy the Emperor."


	139. Beyond The Senses

FYI for readers: I am having problems with my monitor. I've been without my desktop since last Tues. night. It randomly started working again, so I decided to post everything I had that was written in chronological order up to this point. I may not be able to post again for a while, depending on when I get a new monitor. Public computers around here do not seem to be able to access the site's document feature. I apologize for any unusual delay that may result in your reading.

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Sweat trickled down Jareth's spine by the time he had finally worked the second bolt out of its hole and pried the grille back from the vent shaft. He gripped the sides of the shaft with his fingers and started to pull himself inside it, but Shmi suddenly clambered onto the lockers beside him and tried to shove her way past. He shook his head firmly.

"Let me go first. That way if anything happens, you can--"

"I'm going first," she shook her head.

"No--"

"I'm going first!" she cut him off with a glare.

"Fine!" he rolled his eyes and gestured grandly toward the opening. "Be my guest, _Your Highness!"_

"Much better," she smirked, scrambling up into the vent.

He made a face behind her back and followed her in, using the Force to set the vent back in place behind him. For several minutes, the two children wriggled along in relative silence. Neither spoke except to complain about the other going too slow or muttering when Jareth's head accidentally bumped against Shmi.

The ventilation system was a series of interconnected ducts which widened into larger, open areas at regular intervals. Voices sometimes drifted up to them when they halted in these places, but they were never voices that either of the children recognized. Jareth figured that these were connecting tunnels, since they had several openings that all seemed to branch into other ducts. After passing through three of these and following Shmi into one of the connected ducts apparently at random, he finally let out a frustrated sigh.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" he demanded in a harsh whisper.

"Yes!" she hissed.

"Well, where?!"

"This way," was the only response she offered, wriggling off through the duct.

Jareth sighed. It was too dark in the vent shafts for him to be able to see much, even though his eyes were better than a human's. All he could make out was Shmi inching her way along in front of him, and he supposed that, even if he had been able to see anything else, he still wouldn't have known where they were going. He would just have to hope that the Force was somehow telling her which way to go.

Finally, they reached a fourth junction. Shmi halted abruptly, causing Jareth to collide with her again. She sprawled forward, landing on her face with a loud "Oof!"

"Shh!" he urged as voices became apparent.

She pushed herself up on her elbows and turned to glare at him, but she made no verbal reply. This time, the voice they heard was unmistakable and chilling.

_"I know you are awake."_

Shmi scrambled backward, forcing Jareth to back up as well. He did so frantically, then gave her an annoyed swat when she stopped. "What are you, scared?"

_"No! _If we get too close, he'll sense us in here!" she whispered back.

"Oh, right," Jareth rolled his eyes, unconvinced.

_"Anakin, where is my granddaughter?"_ a second voice interrupted.

That had to be Shmi's grandmother, but surprisingly she seemed to take no reassurance from the fact that her grandma was unharmed. Now he did sense fear from her, sharp and cold, mingled with something very much like the horror that Jareth had felt when one of the local boys crashed in the canyon and mangled himself so badly that he lost a leg.

"Anakin…?" she whispered.

"What?" he frowned.

She shook her head, focusing on the conversation again. Jareth listened as well, but most of it went over his head. At first she was asking him where he was taking them. Then they sounded as if they were arguing, but the argument itself made very little sense to him. He guessed that the two of them knew one other--that they had for some time, maybe since before Shmi was even born. The rest was lost on him; he had no idea who or what they could be talking about.

"Who's Ani?" he asked, his brow puckering at the continued mention of the name.

"My father," explained Shmi dully, all the fire suddenly gone out of her.

Something told him not to ask any more. Instead, he closed his eyes, trying to puzzle out the rest of the discussion for himself. They moved from Shmi's father to someone called Obi Wan and Emperor Palpatine--something about traitors and the Old Republic. It didn't surprise him that Vader had done something bad to Shmi's family. What took him aback, though, was the fact that her grandmother readily admitted to having hurt Vader. She didn't apologize, though, and Vader's response to her was the most disturbing of all.

_"You still lied to me! Both of you! "All of you!"_ Jareth heard Vader cry out, and his eyes widened at such an accusation, which somehow seemed wounded, though the Sith Lord's audible tone was the same booming computer-generated sound that it always was.

"Yes, we did," came the quick reply from Shmi's grandmother. "Obi Wan and I lied to you by omission more than once. But we were trying to protect you, Ani. We loved you, and the things we kept from you were withheld because we wanted to spare you pain, not inflict it upon you. And little Ani shouldn't be made to pay the price for our mistakes."

_"Why not?"_ demanded Vader.

_"Because he loves you. No matter what you have done to him, he loves you. And now you have taken his mother and his daughter to use as bait in a trap for his father. How far do you think you can push him?"_

There was a long pause, and Jareth heard Shmi suck in a breath as they waited for Vader to answer. The rasp of the Sith Lord's breather was the only sound for so long that he began to wonder if Vader was going to answer the question at all. Then he did.

_"Perhaps as far as his father once pushed Anakin Skywalker. To the place where love will turn to hate. Only then will he be strong enough to destroy the Emperor."_

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "Weren't they just talking about protecting your dad from Palps?"

"He--um--that was--before, I guess," Shmi whispered back.

"What'samatter?" Jareth asked. "What's goin' on?"

"Vader," she said, stifling a sob. "He's…he was…he was my grandpa's brother."

"Oh…" Jareth gulped.

Before Shmi could say anything else, another voice was heard, this one unfamiliar to the children.

_"We are exiting hyperspace as you commanded, Lord Vader. Your shuttle is fueled and waiting."_

Jareth felt the blood drain from his face, and he immediately began to wriggle backwards. Shmi remained where she was, apparently too stunned to register the import of that statement. He hissed at her frantically.

"C'mon! Shmi, c'mon! We gotta get back before they catch us!"

She glanced back at him, seeming to snap out of it when she saw him moving. He breathed a sigh of relief as she started back after him. They were quicker this time since they knew the way, but Jareth received more than one boot in the face as they scurried back through the vents to the room they had just left.

Reaching the vent that led into it, he shoved the grill loose with the Force and swung himself out, reaching up to guide Shmi down with his hands on either side of her. Fortunately, she was still too shaken to protest that she didn't need help. Without discussion, they scrambled off the lockers and began hefting them back to their place by the wall. They had only just managed to get them all off the bed when the door slid open.  
Jareth backed in front of Shmi, shielding with his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, sure that they were doomed--that Vader would know exactly what they had been up too. Nothing happened for several heartbeats, and he abruptly realized that he didn't hear the unmistakable noise of Vader's breather. Cracking open an eye, he saw not the Sith Lord but a white clad stormtrooper, who was looking at the two children as if he wasn't sure quite what to make of them.

Jareth beamed winningly. "Hi!"

Shmi stepped boldly around him, waving her hand at the trooper. "There's nothing going on in here."

"There's nothing going on in here," he repeated.

Jareth's jaw dropped.

"Come on, Lord Vader's waiting," Shmi said in a commanding tone.

"Come on," repeated the stormtrooper, obviously annoyed. "Lord Vader's waiting."

Shmi nodded and followed after them, with Jareth trailing her in amazement. "How'd you do that?"

"What?" she glanced at him innocently.

------

Mara Jade decidedly did not like spying on Vader. Tailing the Dark Lord was a very good way to lose one's head--or at least a limb--and Mara happened to enjoy having her body intact. Unfortunately for her, the Emperor had decided that tailing his apprentice and reporting on Vader's activities was a fitting test of all her training. If she could survive this assignment, after all, it stood to reason that she could survive just about any other task he might think up for her. If not, at least she would meet an entertaining end.

"For him," she muttered as her starfighter declamped from its hyperdrive ring and soared down into the volcanic atmosphere of Mustafar. Vader was not on the planet yet, but her droid informant aboard the _Executor_ had assured her that he would be. The ship had dropped out of hyperspace somewhere outside the system, but Vader and several passengers were already en route to the lava plant in the Dark Lord's personal shuttle. Exactly who those passengers were and what they were all doing the droid had not been able to tell her, but Mara would soon discover that information for herself.

The starfighter followed a preprogrammed course toward the planet's lone installation, an automated lava mine originally built during the Clone Wars. Droids and machinery, which had been constructed for the superheated temperatures of this hellish world, worked non-stop to draw precious metals from the continuous rivers of burning stone. Mara knew little about it except that it had been a separatist stronghold once destroyed and later rebuilt by the Emperor. As soon as her ship pierced the atmosphere, she felt a powerful resonance in the Force--something had happened here; something big.

The habitable areas of the settlement were spread among towers that looked like poisonous toadstools sprung from the bank of a river of fire. The main control center squatted atop the largest, beside the small landing deck where Vader's shuttle would have to land when it arrived. Circling the plant, Mara kept herself high enough to be undetectable to the shuttle's sensors and considered her options. She could not afford to fail this mission after the fiasco on Yavin 4 and her aborted attempt to capture the Jedi Kenobi, but she saw no viable way to land outside the lava plant and still be close enough to report what was going on here to the Emperor.

Bare minutes after her arrival, Vader's shuttle did indeed alight on the platform. She waited a few more moments, her brow creasing into a thoughtful frown as the ramp extended from it and three humanoid forms descended. Two were small, clearly children, while the third was an adult--female, Mara thought, though she could tell nothing else from this distance. Stormtroopers followed them out, ranging themselves around the prisoners with blasters drawn until Vader himself came down. At a signal from him, the entire group marched inside. Mara tapped her long nails on the console in front of her. The Emperor had begun to suspect that his Apprentice was conspiring against them, but that seemed unlikely to Mara now. A group of women and children were hardly adequate co-conspirators if Vader was plotting against Palpatine. Still, he was up to something. But what? There was one sure way to find out, but a head on confrontation with Vader was not what she'd had in mind when she came here…


	140. Convergence

It took Shmi almost the whole trip from the Executor to Mustafar to work open the lock on the electrobinders that the stormtrooper had put on her wrists. Jareth was faster with his, but he already had the bent hair clip that she had given him earlier tucked into the waistline of his pants. Before she could even start, she had to twist and shimmy and contort herself in order to reach her pocket, then manage to bend another of her hair clips into the proper shape, all while making sure that neither Vader nor the stormtroopers realized what she was up to. Fortunately, their helmets seemed to limit their vision, and none of them were watching the children very closely anyway. It also helped that Padme was there. She knew what the children were doing, and endeavored to occupy Vader's attention. Vader himself was more than happy to let her do so, and he spent the majority of the trip either silently breathing at her or making more complaints about the various ways in which--according to him--he had been wronged by the Kenobis, Obi Wan in particular.

Shmi clenched her teeth and restrained the urge to inquire rather pointedly whether the Sith Lord had lost his mind. For most of her admittedly short life, she had heard stories of Anakin Skywalker, the hero. Anakin had saved her father's life when Ani was born; he had saved Obi Wan from more horrible fates than anyone could even remember; he had supposedly died to save Ani from the siege on the Jedi temple. Now it turned out that he hadn't died at all but had become the enemy of everything that her family was fighting to protect and restore--and he blamed them! She clamped down on the irrational anger she felt toward the Sith Lord, knowing that even if Padme could distract him, that would bring his attention squarely back to her. To keep herself from thinking about him, she worked furiously on getting her hands free and finally managed to spring the lock just as they were leaving the ship. She didn't take the restraints off yet but shoved the wire clip into her sleeve and waited. Her grandfather and Han would be here soon. Obi Wan was sure to send Han inside while he tried to deal with Vader himself. She wasn't sure what, if anything, she could do to help, but she wasn't going to stand around with her hands tied and wait for him to shoot his way past those stormtroopers.

She followed Vader off the landing platform and down a long, narrow hallway into a darkened room. The lights came up to reveal computer consoles and wide monitors along the walls. Two blue holotables glowed softly to life as they walked inside, and the heavy, blast shielded door came down behind them. He ordered the troopers to position themselves around the room then left all but two of them there as he led the hostages further inside.

The control tower was stifling, although it wasn't as hot as it had been outside. There was some kind of cooling system in operation, and Shmi guessed it was something like the ones that her Uncle Luke had shown her on Tatooine, with tubes of super-cool liquid that ran inside the walls. The difference was that this one wasn't meant to keep living beings cool in a desert. There were no humans or other organic creatures here at all, only machinery and worker droids. Han had told her that the Empire was famous for skimping on things like this. The place would only be cool enough to keep the machines operating at whatever level of efficiency would make the lava mine profitable. There was no thought of a comfortable climate for living tissue, and although Vader had ordered one of his troopers to adjust the temperature, it would probably take some time before things actually cooled off.

They walked down another long hallway, and the sound of Vader's breathing echoed eerily through the narrow space. It was also growing louder and raspier, as if the machinery that kept him breathing had begun to labor in the intense heat like the fan belt in an overheated landspeeder. He must have been horrendously hot in that hideous mask, she realized biting her lip. Then her expression hardened and she gave a sharp nod. Good. That would give her grandfather an advantage, she decided as they reached the end of the hall. It dead-ended into a wall with three sealed doors. One of them rose as Vader approached it, and the group silently followed him inside.

Lights came up again, this time on a room with a single, long conference table and several chairs arranged about it on either side. The walls were transparisteel, and all around them, Shmi could see jagged obsidian mountains which smoked and belched lava down upon the land. Molten rivers ran down from them, snaking around the entire settlement. Jareth stood gape-mouthed at the site, but Shmi shivered, unconsciously drawing closer to her grandmother. Padme looked down at her with a sympathetic smile, unable to make any kind of comforting gesture with her own hands bound in front of her.

"Sit down," Vader said imperiously.

Shmi didn't move, and now Jareth turned away from the wall and walked back over to her and Padme. Vader glared at their defiance, and she had the feeling that if they had been older or Padme had not been glaring right back at him, they would have found themselves sitting whether they liked it or not. At the moment, she didn't care. Something was _wrong_ about this place. It made her skin crawl, and she wasn't moving any farther away from her grandmother than she absolutely had to until Vader was out of the room.

After a few minutes, Padme broke the impasse. With all the poise she had shown on Ecarua 4 a few days ago, she glided toward the table, glancing back over her shoulder in a silent command for the children to follow. Shmi scrambled after her, but Jareth hesitated, his brow furrowing as he looked from her to Vader.

"We may have a long wait," Padme told him mildly. "My husband doesn't walk into traps lightly."

------

Mara was just completing another circuit of the settlement when she caught sight of an unmistakably familiar ship cutting through the angry, smoke-filled air toward the landing platform. It had once been a YT-1300 light freighter, but it had long-since become a misshapen conglomeration of patches, parts, and seemingly incompatible upgrades, and if she had to guess, she would have said that it was held together with a combination of adhesives, glue, and smuggler's threats. The _Millennium Falcon_ could only mean Han Solo--and where he went these days, so did the Kenobis.

She veered off, setting the fighter down on the porous black bank of a lava river just out of sight from the control tower. Landing here was still a bit of a gamble; it wasn't far enough away to ensure that the ship wouldn't be spotted. However, any farther away would have been too dangerous if she needed to beat a quick retreat. The mine had showed no signs of life--human or otherwise--before Vader arrived, and he was likely to be occupied with whatever he had come here to accomplish. He wasn't expecting an intrusion, and the worker droids would probably not be programmed to alert him of a strange ship or an unwanted human presence, so with luck, she could evade detection.

Popping the hatch, she pulled herself nimbly out of the cockpit and slid onto the fighter's wing. Then she sprang onto the steaming ground, landing with a soft crunch of her boot-heels against the stone. The air was so hot and thick with volcanic smoke and ash that it threatened to choke her. She turned and sprinted up the embankment, drawing almost unconsciously on the Force as she moved toward the control center. She reached it just as the _Falcon_ set down, and she vaulted onto the landing pad, keeping herself close to the ship, where she would be out of sight of either the Kenobis or anyone who came out to meet them. Crouching still deeper into the shadows, she rested her chin on her closed fist and waited, watching.

The Falcon's ramp descended and a tight knot of people made their way onto the landing platform. Obi Wan was slightly in the lead, his brown hood drawn up over his head. Luke and Leia walked directly behind him, each with a lightsaber in hand. Han and a blonde woman whom Mara recognized after a few seconds as Isaly came down after them, both with blasters drawn. She frowned lightly. Still no Ani, and now no Chewbacca either.

The entire group fanned out on either side of the old man, with the twins moving smoothly to his immediate right and left. Han stepped up beside Leia, blaster held lightly at the ready. Isaly mirrored his stance next to Luke, and though Mara sensed anxiousness from the young woman, there was a fierce determination about her, and the Force quite literally crackled around her in an invisible aura of protective fury as Vader appeared at the other side of the platform.

_Took your babies did he, mama gundark?_ she mused thoughtfully. The pieces of this strange puzzle began to fall together. The woman must have been Padme, which would make at least one of the children a Kenobi. Probably the oldest of Ani and Isaly's brood, which would explain their willingness to approach Vader with weapons drawn like this. Anger poured off Han and Isaly in untempered waves. Luke and Leia were a little more controlled, though not much, and even Obi Wan radiated a dangerous mix of protective anger, deadly calm…and…sorrow? Mara's brow furrowed more deeply at that. There was still more going on here than she realized. The rest of the old man's emotions were entirely understandable. Vader had attacked his own, and now he and all the rest of the redoubtable clan were reacting much like a pack of predators. While they might otherwise have been inclined to evade such a formidable adversary, he had threatened both the matriarch and the youngest, most vulnerable members of the pack. Now their teeth were bared. Yet even through that, Mara sensed a palpable grief in the old man and an answering current of retaliatory anger in Luke. The intensity of the farmboy's emotion startled her; she wouldn't have thought that a Jedi would be capable of feelings like that--feelings that bordered on hatred.

Vader was not stupid enough to have done something like this by accident. He had to have known exactly what reaction he would elicit from them. Still, she didn't think that he could take them all on like this. She had dueled with both of the twins, and while neither of them were her equal in single combat, she needed no one to tell her how powerful a team they would make together. Their father was known to have been a dangerous adversary, and though he might now have been past his prime, Mara would have had no desire to face him as the point of a three-person team like this. Furthermore, while Vader was probably arrogant enough to dismiss the blaster-toting, untrained pair which flanked the Jedi, Mara was not. She might not be the one to meet an entertaining end today after all. Especially since the papa gundark had yet to put in an appearance--and with his daughter's safety threatened, Mara had no doubt that Ani was lurking somewhere nearby…

--------

The shuttle _Tan-seven_ emerged from hyperspace quite literally in the middle of a dogfight. With warning lights and alarms flaring all over the cockpit, Bail Organa yanked the craft to starboard, narrowly avoiding having its wing sheared by a string of blaster fire. In the co-pilot's seat beside him, Ani called up a tactical display hologram. Twelve X-Wings, highly outnumbered by the TIE fighters around them, were slowly and steadily picking off their opposition with the kind of reckless, high-speed spatial acrobatics which would have made Obi Wan turn green.

"Sensors aren't showing the _Executor,_" Bail frowned.

"It won't be here," Ani replied calmly.

"What do you mean?" asked Bail.

"Vader won't want that many people knowing what he's doing here. He'll have left the ship somewhere outside the system and brought them down by shuttle. He probably piloted it himself. But he knows Luke, and he knows that Dad would have brought at least a small escort. This is to keep the Rogues busy so he can finish what he's doing down on Mustafar," explained Ani grimly. He swallowed twice, trying to rid himself of the sour taste of the dread that still lingered in the back of his throat.

Pushing it aside as best he could, he toggled the comm switch on the panel in front of him. "Alliance shuttle _Tan-seven_ to Rogue Leader. Luke, do you boys need some help up here?"

"Luke's down there with your dad, Ani," Wedge's voice came back crisply. "You'd better get yourselves down there too. We'll handle things here."

"Understood, Rogue Leader--" Ani started to say when a spray of red energy cut in front of the ship's prow. "Well, that might be a problem…"

"Hold on, Ani. We'll clear a path for you," Wedge replied.


	141. Point of Impact

Vader suddenly turned and swept from the room. The children stared after him for a few seconds, but by the time that the door had locked into place, Jareth and Shmi jumped to their feet, and the electrobinders on their hands clattered to the floor. The two startled guards instinctively raised blasters but hesitated, apparently unsure whether or not they should fire on prisoners so young. That moment of delay cost them, because the blasters each flew from their hands, and before they could react, Shmi and Jareth caught the weapons and fired. Padme stared in open horror as the stormtroopers crumpled to the floor, but the children wasted no time. Jareth ran up to her, a small piece of wire that she recognized as one of Shmi's hair clips in his hand. He wasn't skilled enough in the Force to be able to manipulate small parts like the inside of a lock, but he had already opened a pair of these restraints with the clip, and it took him only a few minutes to free her hands. Meanwhile, Shmi scurried to the door, skipping over the white-armored bodies on the floor as if they were no more than stones on a walkway.

"What are you doing?" Padme asked as she examined the door's control box and fished in her pocket for more of the hair clips.

"Gonna try to jimmy the door open," she replied.

Padme closed her eyes and nodded, then reached to run her hand lightly over Jareth's hair in a gesture of gratitude for her freed hands. He smiled up at her, and the two of them walked over to the door, standing just behind Shmi. Cautiously, she laid her hand on her granddaughter's head.

"Are you both all right?" she asked then she held back another sigh. Of course they weren't all right.

"Mmm-hmm," both replied.

Well, at least they were holding up for the moment, she decided. This experience would have consequences for both of them, but there was little she could do about that. Neither of them had been physically wounded, and hopefully neither of them would witness anything like the kind of horror that Ani had endured as a child.

"Where did Vader go?" Jareth asked.

"My husband is here," explained Padme quietly.

"Mommy's with him," Shmi added, turning a surprised look on her grandmother.

Padme's eyebrow rose. "Not Daddy?"

Shmi shook her head. "I don't think so. Not yet."

Strange, thought Padme. She had hoped that Obi Wan wouldn't come alone, but for Isaly to be here and not Ani left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. She said nothing, though, not wishing to worry Shmi, who was still busily working to open the door.

"I think I got it!" she exclaimed. The door slid upward, then rapidly rolled back down again before any of them could move. It didn't close entirely, but the gap between it and the floor would have been hardly big enough for one of the children to slip fingers through. "…or not."

------

On either side of him, the twins and Han and Isaly raised their weapons, but Obi Wan held up a hand, stilling them as Vader approached. The red blade of his lightsaber already glowed menacingly in his hand, and the old adversaries stared at one another for a long, silent moment.

Years of sorrow and regret weighed on Obi Wan as he looked across at his former friend and pupil. It had been this way on the Death Star, but now the sensation was so much worse. How could it not be in this place, with all that was between them brought to bear again? He sensed conflict in Vader now; it had been there before, when he had finally understood who Ani was, but this time, that to seemed more pronounced. Padme must have said something that shook him--something that had at least briefly touched what little of Anakin remained in this man. Could he use that to his advantage now? Stop this madness before it all began?

The twins still didn't know who Vader was. He didn't want that revelation to come now, when it would distract them and break the solidarity of the group. Yet, he could not--simply could not--raise a weapon against Vader without trying to reach Anakin. Not after what he had seen and felt on the Death Star.

"We don't have to do this," he said at last. "Let Shmi and Padme go, and--"

"You will not take her from me this time, old man," Vader sneered back at him.

_Anakin. Ani is on his way here. Do you want him to have to watch us do this again? _

That is exactly what I want, replied Vader. 

Obi Wan's jaw tightened, but he gave a terse nod. "So be it."

As planned, he and the twins moved in on Vader together. The twins pressed him on either side, harrying him with quick strikes and slashes to keep him on the defensive while Obi Wan closed in and engaged him in the kind of lightening fast, Force-empowered combat that only two adepts could execute. His lightsaber pierced Vader's inner circle of defense and angled in a high cut toward the Sith Lord's chest plate. One strike there would be all he needed. Vader battered the blue blade away, but before he could bring his arm around to slash at Obi Wan, Luke and Leia launched a flurry of quick blows at his sides, forcing him to back toward the control tower or be cut down.

Subtly guiding the combat to the left and away from the entrance to the tower, Obi Wan felt a kind of grim satisfaction as he sensed his former apprentice's confusion at the tactic. This was not the Soresu he expected. Soresu was a defensive style of combat, which allowed the opponent to take the offensive and focused heavily on maintaining such a tight defensive circle that the enemy would be unable to penetrate and eventually be exhausted or make a mistake upon which its proponent could capitalize. Blue and red lightsabers whirled, stabbed, danced back, and struck again, guided by the Force, and Vader began to worry as he was driven back a pace at a time, losing ground with every exchange. His pace never slackened, but his breathing grew louder and more laborious; he drew on the Force more powerfully each time the Kenobis struck at him, and Obi Wan could sense him beginning to cast about for something to throw at them--anything to distract the twins and slow down the onslaught--but the only things on the landing platform were the ships, and even Darth Vader couldn't hurl starships about with the Force. Vader knew that neither he nor Obi Wan could keep up this pace for long. In the volcanic heat, his body simply couldn't handle this sort of exertion for a long time, and Obi Wan's age would force him to slow as well--but Obi Wan wasn't alone. Nothing would slow Luke and Leia's spinning blades for him.

Then, on a pre-arranged signal from her father, Leia whirled away from Vader, sliding behind the Sith Lord as Obi Wan stepped smoothly to one side to prevent him from following her. He actually felt a moment of relief from Vader as the pace of combat slowed. Then Isaly and Han charged in, skirting him on either side, and he understood why Leia had broken off and where the trio was going. There was nothing he could do to stop them, though. Luke and Obi Wan continued to hammer down blows on him, and his red blade flashed from right to left, barely deflecting the blue ones.

Finally, Vader's anger welled up in a physical wave and struck out at Luke, hurling him backward. Then the Sith turned and lunged at Obi Wan. He blocked the blow and evaded a second one directed at his chest, but he realized already that Vader's reach was compromised by the weight of the cloak he wore. It should have been an overhead strike, the power of which would have been far more difficult for Obi Wan to turn away. Even with that small advantage, he knew he could not match Vader's physical strength, and without the twins, he wouldn't have an edge in speed for long. Never taking his eyes off the Sith, he stretched out toward Luke, who had slid across the durasteel landing platform on his back and finally come to a halt. Now he was springing to his feet with a new alarm, and both Vader and Obi Wan turned surprised glances in his direction.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Vader boomed.

Mara Jade didn't bother to answer but leapt straight upward, landing catfooted atop the Falcon. Luke followed her up, but she rushed him before he could gain his balance. He pivoted to one side, but thrown off balance, he landed hard on his side, lightsaber clattering out of his grasp. Obi Wan didn't have time to worry about him, though, because Vader took up the battle once more. Alone now, he fell naturally into the defensive attitude of Soresu, letting Vader attack and gently guiding the movement of the battle backward into the narrow entryway of the control tower, where the Sith's movements would be restricted and where Obi Wan would have family at his back.

His sharp ears picked up the sounds of blaster fire in the main room now, but that was to be expected. He patiently walked Vader backward, drawing on the Force to offset fatigue as Vader battered him with thrust after powerful thrust. The room was littered with white-armored bodies by the time they entered it. Han and Isaly were ducking through an open doorway into the hall beyond, but Leia turned and raced to Obi Wan's side.

"Go help your brother," he instructed, dodging a slash at his right shoulder.

"Are you sure?" she asked, torn between obedience to her master, the danger she must have already sensed to her twin, and decidedly not wanting to leave Obi Wan alone with Vader.

Obi Wan smoothly stepped back in, stabbing again at Vader's chest. "I'm all right. Mara Jade's outside; Luke can't take her alone."

Leia swallowed uncertainly then looked over her shoulder. "Han, Isaly hurry up! Dad needs help out here!"

With that, she raced back out of the control tower, and Vader didn't even try to stop her. He was more than happy to let her go; without her in the way, he could focus on his real quarry. He pressed Obi Wan further back, and the Jedi Master felt a blast of hot air which would be familiar to him until the day he died. The door slid open behind them, as silently ominous in its lack of ceremony as it ever was in his nightmares. They fought their way out again, back onto the balcony above the white-hot river of death which had been both beginning and end for both of them. He felt a faint relief as he sensed the approach of Bail's shuttle, but it didn't last long, because Vader was still raining down blows on him, and in his heart, he knew that Ani was not ready for the confrontation that was coming.

------

"Look!" Jareth cried in disbelief.

Shmi and Padme turned away from the door, and both of them stared with sickened horror at the sight that met their eyes beyond the transparisteel wall. Obi Wan and Vader were fighting their way across the balcony outside, Vader moving with the relentless, untiring ferocity of a machine as he battered through the aging Jedi's defenses, driving him backward toward a narrow power conduit that extended out over the glowing, angry river of molten stone around them.

"Obi Wan!" Padme screamed, starting toward the wall before she had even realized that she was moving.

"Mom!"

Han's voice, she realized in some distant corner of her mind, but she couldn't answer. Her whole world had become the two men outside and horror of her own nightmare given form. Shmi ran to the door, beating on it with her small fists.

"Han! Han, we're here!"

There was no response but the sound of booted feet rushing through the hallway. Padme turned toward the door as the footsteps stopped outside it, then immediately returned her attention to the battle outside. They were halfway across the balcony now; another few moments and Vader would push Obi Wan all the way out onto the conduit. Her husband was tiring; she could see it from here. Vader must sense it...must know that Obi Wan couldn't endure much more of this alone.

_Anakin!_

"Shmi, stand back!" Isaly ordered, a bare second before a blaster bolt shot the control box on her side of the door to smoking cinders. Padme turned in time to see the door shoot up and Shmi barrel out of it, pushing her way past Han and Isaly who were too startled to grab her.

"Shmi, no!" Padme cried.

"Kid!" bellowed Han, though he had no idea what she was doing.

"I have to stop them!"


	142. Endings and Beginnings

Mara Jade's lightsaber sliced through the red air toward Luke, who rolled out of the way an instant before it would have cut him in two. Instead, it drove into the _Falcon's_ hull, giving rise to a shower of hot yellow sparks. He reached out with his right hand, calling Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber back to him. The hilt smacked into his palm as he climbed to his feet, and he thumbed the activation switch, twisting his wrist to bring the blue blade back across his chest as Mara's weapon sizzled toward his heart.

Planting one foot behind him, he pushed her lightsaber away then took a cautious step back. "Mara Jade, wait!"

She rolled her eyes and didn't pause as she closed the distance between them, magenta blade moving in a quick, vicious volley of cuts and strikes. "What's wrong, farmboy? Can't keep up?"

Luke parried and dodged, blinking sweat out of his eyes as he struggled to keep out of reach of the attacking blade. She swung downward toward his right leg, and he brought his own weapon down to block. The two lightsabers touched briefly, the contact so fleeting that he was momentarily startled. Then she arched her blade up again, smoothly, with perfect, fluid control--right toward his neck, and he felt the heat of its approach before he turned with Force-aided speed to intercept it.

Overbalanced again, he staggered, but rather than struggle he reached out, opening himself to the Force. Its current steadied him, guiding him into a backwards leap that allowed him to recover his footing and redistribute his weight.

"I don't want to fight you," he said.

"That's a problem then, isn't it?" she smirked.

"I don't know what they told you, but we're only here to get my mom and my niece back," he attempted.

"Really," she raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

She moved with catlike grace over the hull of the ship, and as she closed the distance between them again, her lightsaber's deadly, flowing motion never slowed. His defense was clumsy by comparison, relying on his greater physical strength and size to turn aside her blows, but he knew that he couldn't keep that up forever. He was out of practice, and he was sure she knew it. Worry for Obi Wan crowded his thoughts as well, marring his focus. He knew that he should try to end this quickly; it was clear that she wasn't going to listen to reason. With a quick glance behind him, he also realized that he was rapidly running out of room to back away.

Drawing more of the Force into himself, he vaulted upward again. This time, he flipped over her shoulder, using the kinetic force of the landing to empower his turn as he spun around. She whipped about at the same time, and their blades met again, crossed in a glowing X only inches from his face. She had had to extend her arm to meet him, and he had both superior strength and the power of his turn to help him push her back. Her long red hair tumbled into her face like a curtain, but she shook it back again and rushed him.

"My mother is a noncombatant!" he reminded her urgently as he stepped backward once more. "Shmi is a little kid. They shouldn't be in the middle of this, come on!"

She hesitated. It was only for a second, but it was there. Then, for half an instant, her eyes went oddly unfocused. Luke frowned, but before he had even drawn a breath to say something else, she attacked with a new ferocity. He had to fight--Obi Wan was still inside with Vader. He couldn't let his father down this time, not for anyone…

------  
Ani and Bail thundered down the boarding ramp to find Luke atop the _Millennium Falcon_, deep in the midst of a lightsaber battle with Mara Jade. Ani called his own weapons to his hands, starting toward the ship, but he had only taken a few steps when Leia shot out onto the landing pad, moving toward them in a blur of Force-aided speed. She leapt into the air without pause, her darker blue blade crossing with Luke's to push Mara back.

"Ani, Dad's inside with Vader!" she yelled down urgently.

"Alone?!"

"Ani, go!" both twins shouted.

Anakin Kenobi ran, this time with Bail Organa only a step behind.

------

Shmi barreled across the control center, where the stormtroopers who had led them inside now lay dead. Alarms were blaring, and one of the monitor screens on the wall flashed a warning, but she barely registered any of it. Adult footsteps were already charging up the hall after her, and there was no time to stop. She half-ran, half-dove out the open door, out into the excruciating volcanic heat. Spinning to the left, she hurled herself around the corner and caught sight of Obi Wan and Vader, now almost to the end of the walkway. They surged from side to side, their weapons crashing and squealing against one another, against the guardrail, against the transparisteel wall of the tower. The whole balcony had begun to sway under the force of their warfare, but they fought on, heedless.

"Grandpa! Uncle Anakin, stop!" she screamed, racing after them.

They had reached the far end by then, and Obi Wan backed out onto the power conduit beyond, balancing precariously as he continued to fight Vader off. She breathed a faint sigh of relief when she realized that Vader was having a worse time keeping his balance than her grandfather was. Then she understood that if one fell, he would probably drag the other off with him.

She had just reached the halfway point when they did just that. Vader half tumbled, half leapt to one side, his mechanical fingers tight on Obi Wan's wrist as he did so, pulling the Jedi down with him. With a terrified shriek, she plastered herself against the guardrail, peering over it in a frantic, desperate search, and finally caught sight of them on a catwalk a few levels below.

"Damn it, kid, get offa there!" Han bellowed from somewhere behind her.

She half turned toward him, then looked back down at Vader and Obi Wan, who had resumed their battle. Lightsabers locked, they pitched to one side, and she saw that somehow either the tower itself was sinking or the lava below was beginning to rise, because white-hot globs had started to shoot upward from the river and arc back down around them.

"Shmi, get inside!" Obi Wan warned.

"Listen to Obi Wan!" Vader yelled, though he didn't stop slashing and stabbing at his former mentor for one moment. Their lightsabers impacted the catwalk, and a white-hot geyser sprang up as they moved away.

"Not until you both _stop!"_ she screamed down at them.

"Shmi!" Isaly shouted, and though her voice was shrill with fear, her tone held a clear command. Shmi spun away from the balcony and started back toward the sound, even as Han and her mother were already closing the gap toward her. She had only taken a few steps when a terrible, red-orange wave of lava suddenly seemed to rise like a wall between them. There was a great, deafening roar, and the balcony under her feet slanted and fell away, sending her sailing downward. She tried to scream, but the brutal rush of hot air that filled her lungs made any sound impossible. In a moment, she lost all sense of direction, all knowledge except that she was falling--tumbling through the open air toward the river of fire below, and she was going to burn!

_NO!_ boomed a terrible voice in her mind.

A hand reached out--or something very like a hand, but far too large to have actually _been_ one--and snatched her in mid air, pulling her to one side. She felt her body slam into something hard and metallic, and so horribly hot that her skin blistered. For one moment, she was afraid that it was the edge of the river, that somehow she had landed on the bank, but the lava was surging up to reach her. Then, she felt an arm--a real arm--wind itself around her, and she craned her neck to stare with wide, terrified eyes into the fearsome face of Darth Vader.

"I have you," he said with his familiar, icy calm, despite the fact that his chest was heaving furiously and his breather was making so much racket now that she thought it might give out any second. "Don't panic."

She swallowed and lifted her eyes further, then clung frantically to him, wrapping both arms and legs around his body as she realized that half of the catwalk that he and Obi Wan had been standing on was now dangling vertically from its struts. Vader had either fallen or jumped off the still attached side in an effort to reach her, and the only thing that now kept them from plummeting into the fire was his grip on a tangle of support cables over their heads. Obi Wan on his knees above them, reaching one hand toward her while the other maintained a precarious hold on something behind him.

"Uncle Anakin, we're going to fall!"

"I told you not to panic!" Vader snapped.

"Anakin, lift her higher!" Obi Wan shouted.

"Come down lower!" growled Vader.

"I can't! If I come any lower, I'll upset the whole bridge!" Obi Wan told him. "Use the Force!"

"Your granddaughter is _attached to me,_ Obi Wan!"

------

Bail skidded to a halt inside the control room, and Ani, still moving toward the open door at the far side, turned to look over his shoulder. The older man moved toward one of the consoles by the wall, scanning the monitor above it as he approached. Ani reached out with one arm, grabbing the edge of the door to brake his run.

"What is it?"

"The ray shields are down. This whole complex is going to go under," Bail replied.

"How long?"

"I don't know. Maybe fifteen minutes, depending on how much damage has been done to the superstructure already," Bail told him.

Ani wasted no more time but bolted out onto the balcony, whipping around the corner so fast that the wall beside him was a blur. In the Force, he was aware of Han and Isaly ahead of him, and he dimly registered that Han was holding on to her--struggling with all his might to keep her from trying to jump across the wide, flaming gap beyond them. He didn't stop, compelled onward by the Force, and it was only after he leapt off the half-collapsed balcony himself that he completely understood who was on the dangling catwalk underneath it.

-------

Suddenly the whole structure shook with a heavy impact, and Shmi felt herself swinging wildly back and forth. She buried her face in the cloak on Vader's shoulder, too terrified to even look.

"Uncle, I'm slipping!"

Vader's arm tightened around her, but she clutched him in terror, certain that she was going to slide off of him at any moment. Holding him was like holding a durasteel pole, not holding a man, and his armor suddenly felt so hot that she was forced to wriggle about so that no one part of her stayed in contact with the metal for too long. If it did, she was sure that she would be burned so badly that she would accidentally let go.

"If you do not stop that, we are going to fall!" he warned.

"She can't help it, Uncle, she's scared senseless," another voice called down to them.

"Daddy!" Shmi's head shot up.

"I'm here, sweetheart," Ani replied calmly. Then she felt his touch in her mind, full of cool, gentle reassurance, and her panic began to slip away, as if he had somehow reached into her with the Force and washed it away in the cascading sensation of his own presence. "That's it," he said with patient encouragement that belied the precariousness of their situation. "We're gonna get you both up now. All of us, together. Hold tight to Uncle Anakin."

She closed her eyes and nodded, unable to say anything. A second or two later, her grip on Vader tightened still further, and she felt them both lifted upward. Vader was struggling so much to simply breathe that he was little help, but between them, Ani and Obi Wan managed to lift the two of them up over the guardrail. Then, all of them scrambled further onto the catwalk. Ani lifted her from Vader's arms, but he tottered backward and the unstable bridge swayed as Obi Wan reached out to grab him.

"Anakin?!"

"He can't breathe!" she sobbed, only half realizing what she was saying. "It's too hot, Daddy, he can't breathe!"

"I know, sweetheart," Ani assured her as he shifted to grab Vader's arm with his free hand. Then he looked at Obi Wan. "Take her."

"Ani--"

"Dad, he can barely breathe, and you're exhausted. There's only one way back across. You can't pick him up; take her. We'll follow you," he said, sounding weak with exertion himself.

Obi Wan gave a slight nod and moved to take her from her father, hesitating only a moment before he dashed to the far end of the walkway and jumped, using the Force to propel them upward onto the edge of the balcony above them. Several pairs of hands reached out to grab and steady them, but in the confusion, Shmi wasn't sure whose hands were there except for her mother and Han. Then, a shrill warning screamed through her senses, echoed a half-second later by a harsh, grating squeal, and Obi Wan spun around as the catwalk upon which they had been a few moments earlier finally tore away from its mooring and careened toward the raging river of fire below.

_"Anakin!"_ Shmi heard both Obi Wan and Padme cry out.

And afterward, she was never sure which of the two men still on the plummeting piece of metal they meant.


	143. Let Me Save You

Ani clutched at Vader, struggling to keep hold of him as they sailed downward. They fell for what seemed an interminable hell of rushing air so hot that it could literally sear the skin from his body. Finally, they struck the molten river, and the impact drove them apart. Each stumbled to opposite ends of the platform, and for a moment, blind terror assailed Ani. Nightmare images and sensations filled his mind--the agony of his own flesh melting from his bones, and then the bones themselves turning to goo beneath the terrible fury of this planet's heat. His lungs on fire--gasping for air that never came--

"Uncle!" he grated, pushing himself to his feet. He staggered toward Vader, grabbing urgently at his arm. "Uncle Anakin, it's all right--"

Vader shoved him away with a growl of warning. Ani let out a soft sigh and raised a tired hand to his face. Then he drew in a breath, blinking sweat from his eyes as he scanned the area. Directly ahead of them and rapidly growing closer was a massive drop-off over which huge volumes of lava cascaded like a waterfall. With the plant's ray shields deactivated, the lava was completely unrestrained, and it churned and surged relentlessly at the jagged banks of obsidian stone on either side, carving new cliff faces and sending avalanches of black rock down into the red depths even as he watched.

"I think I can get us closer to the bank, but we're going to have to jump, Uncle Anakin," he said.

Vader's burst of fear was already being eroded by anger--hot, all-encompassing rage, as horrible in its destructive power as any volcanic river. Anger at Obi Wan, at Padme, at the planet around them, even at Shmi for not having listened when they told her to get off the balcony. Another time, Ani might have bristled, but at the moment, he didn't care. If that anger could burn away fear and give Vader focus, make him strong enough to live through this nightmare, then he could be as irrationally angry as he wanted at whoever and whatever he wanted.

"I am not going to help you, boy," Vader pronounced.

"I don't expect you to," Ani replied without flinching. He reached into the Force, slowly and inexorably guiding the catwalk toward shore, fighting the current every step of the way. Vader stood with his arms crossed in front of him, as motionless and unyielding as a slab of black marble. If not for the continued, laboring rasp of his breather, Ani might have thought that he had turned to stone. He had to be aware of how difficult it was for Ani to steer them against the flow of the lava, but he didn't so much as lift a mental finger to help.

He felt resentment begin to flare but suppressed it, realizing that this was exactly what Vader wanted. If he could goad Ani to anger, make him use that anger to save them, then Vader reasoned that he would be forced to acknowledge the superiority of the Dark Side and the supremacy of the Sith over the Jedi Order. Instead, the Knight simply closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the Force. The bobbing metal raft, the rocky shore beyond, even the white-hot river under them, were all a part of it--as he was--and he took them into himself as he drew on the power of the Force. Then, as naturally as his father had once cupped his hand in the warm water of his bath on Coruscant and drawn a fleet of toy boats toward them, he cupped himself, one with the Force, into the lava flow and dragged against the current, shifting it and the platform on which his physical body still stood toward the shore.  
It was not easy. The level of concentration required and the sheer expenditure of mental energy was grueling, but they did move toward shore. Then, after what felt like years, the Force whispered through his mind and body, causing his muscles to tense as the moment approached.

"Now--jump, Uncle Anakin!" he shouted, vaulting off the catwalk.

------  
Mara Jade half turned as the Kenobis came pouring back out onto the landing platform. Then she blinked in astonishment when Luke and Leia both sprang back without a word, leapt off the Falcon's hull, and pelted with the rest of them toward the boarding ramp. She didn't waste time wondering what was going on now, only dove off the ship herself. As usual, she landed on her feet, then ran to the platform's edge and jumped.

She struck the rocky shelf below with more force than she intended, and it shifted under her. Pitching forward, she threw out her hands to catch herself then hurriedly twisted onto her back. Seconds later, the Falcon shot into the air overhead. Scrambling to her feet, she scaled the embankment and scanned the horizon, following the freighter's progress with her eyes. To her surprise, it didn't angle for an exit to the atmosphere but veered to one side, dropped altitude, and began to track along one of the widening riverbanks.

Looking for something? Faint alarm passed through her when she realized that they were moving in the same general direction that she had left her fighter. She didn't think they would be looking for that, not the way that they had charged off. They'd acted distinctly as if someone's tail was afire. Still, they might find the ship, and that might make getting off of Mustafar slightly difficult. She couldn't very well hitch a ride with Vader.

Although…

She turned swiftly and slid down the embankment, then Force-jumped from the side of the rock face back onto the landing platform. Ani and Organa had shown up after the others, and in their haste to get inside, they had even left the hatch open for her. Reminding herself to send the pair a thank-you note afterward, she raced up the narrow ramp and hurried to the cockpit.

Instinct told her to forget about the Kenobis and the fighter she was abandoning. There were too many of them to take on alone, and ships could be replaced. She had the information she needed; her mission had been completed successfully, if not neatly, but that would do her no good if she ran afoul of Vader or got herself captured by Rebels before she could take her report back to the Emperor. Another voice, deeper than instinct, whispered to her as she slid into the pilot's chair, though. The small cabin was still rich with a resonance she had long since come to recognize as Kenobi, and it tugged at her now, drawing her not into the safety of a quick retreat but straight into whatever mess they were running from.

"Or more likely whatever mess they're running into," she corrected herself.

------  
Ani sailed through the boiling air, aware of nothing except it and the Force for several seconds. Then, with disconcerting abruptness, he realized that the ground was rushing up to meet him. He slammed hard into it, feeling the air rush explosively from his lungs at the impact. Knowing that there was no time to waste, he forced himself over onto his back and lifted his head, searching for Vader.

The Sith Lord was sprawled on the rocks below him only a scant few meters away from the rising lava. If his cloak caught--Ani cut off the thought and struggled upright as Vader pushed himself onto his hands and knees. His pain screamed through Ani's body as well, pushing the Jedi almost beyond the point of physical endurance. His vision swam, and blackness crowded in around the edges, but he grit his teeth, willing himself to remain conscious.

"Here, Uncle, Anakin, take my hand!" he called, reaching down for him.

Vader ignored him, continuing to fight his way up the steep, shifting embankment alone. Ani lunged toward him, grabbing his wrist before he could argue. Then, with strength born of desperation, he hauled himself to his feet, dragging Vader up with him.

"Sorry, Uncle, this is going to hurt," he said through clenched teeth as he took a few steps up the slope to gain momentum and then literally flung Vader higher up the cliff face. The force of his own throw sent him staggering backward, and he scrabbled downward, certain that he felt the lava licking at his boots when Vader's burning durasteel fingers clamped down on his wrist and hurled him back up. Then he staggered and slid, forcing Ani to reach down and lock hands with him again.

"All right," he panted the second time that Vader's hand grasped his. "I think we can do this."

"We'll never get high enough this way," Vader argued, though he didn't pause in his effort to throw Ani. "It's rising!"

As soon as he landed, he half turned and took the waiting hand of the Sith Lord. "If you have a better idea, I'm listening, Uncle."

"Shut up and pull, Anakin!"

"Yes, Uncle."

Part of him acknowledged that Vader was right. Both of them were too exhausted now to use the Force for anything more than adding more distance to their throws or helping to slow their descents. They had a working rhythm within a few repetitions of the cycle, but the narrow strip of land that they had initially jumped toward had already been eroded by the lava, and the slope that they now had to climb in order to reach the safety of an overhanging ledge was nearly vertical. Another part--the Kenobi part--was simply too stubborn to give up. Vader gave no indication of wanting to give up either, and he thought with satisfaction that there had never been any shortage of obstinacy in the Skywalker bloodline either.

Still, he was beyond relieved when he finally caught sight of the Falcon overhead. The ship set down above them, and as Ani and Vader continued working their painfully slow way up the slope, the Kenobis arranged themselves in a human chain above them, gradually coming lower as each one added a link and brought the whole thing closer to the struggling pair. He was sure that it was Han and Luke who had remained at the top to anchor them, but…

Yes.

Vader's shock and alarm confirmed it.

It was Obi Wan coming down to them, and with Padme a step behind him despite whatever injuries she must still be suffering. Of course it was. Who else would it be? Ani thought as tears began to burn in his eyes. He blinked them back, reaching back one last time to grab Anakin Skywalker's hand. And this time he leapt.

------  
Only Luke saw Mara Jade watching from atop the opposite bank, and he said nothing to alert the rest of the family to her presence. Ani made a desperate jump for their parents, and Obi Wan caught him. For several minutes, he forgot her as all of his strength, will, and focus were centered on helping to pull his brother from imminent death. But when Ani and Vader finally stumbled over the ledge and collapsed on the ground together, he looked up again. The ship was gone; she was gone, and he wondered faintly if the confusion and emptiness he felt in his chest was really only his, or if it could be something more. Isaly fell to her knees on the ground beside Ani, but it wasn't just him that she checked over for injuries, nor was it him that she finally threw her arms around in relief.

Vader of course threw off the gesture with a half-snarling rebuke, and Han moved instantly for a blaster. Luke followed suit, a bit uncertainly because his father had still made no attempt to restrain the Sith, and Isaly showed no fear of him despite his behavior. Padme turned immediately toward them, raising her hand.

"No."

"Mom--!" Han protested.

"Stand down," Obi Wan ordered firmly. "He is the hero today."


	144. We'll Be Waiting

Ani and Isaly stood silently watching Shmi and Jareth, who were curled up together, asleep, in Han's bunk aboard the Falcon. Both children had been abnormally quiet since the ship had left Mustafar, but Isaly didn't blame them. Nor was she particularly concerned, at least at this stage. Shmi had been through a horrendous ordeal, but she had already seen so very much that a child her age should not have been exposed to that, given time to rest and recover in a safe, supportive environment, her mother had no doubt that she would be able to cope with this experience. She had all the support of their extended family around her, and unexpectedly she now also had a steadfast friend in Jareth Tyrn. From what Padme had said, the two children had spent a great deal of time bickering before, but it was the sort of well-meaning bickering that Han and Leia were already famous for. Like Han would have for Leia, as soon as Jareth realized that Shmi was in serious need, he shifted gears and became the epitome of silent supportiveness. When nothing else had been able to induce her to sleep, he had even displayed the surprising ability to purr, which was apparently inherent to his mother's cat-like species. He was also quite understandably exhausted in his own right, and in the process of purring Shmi to sleep, he had dropped off himself.

Isaly rested a hand on the bracket which held the bunk in place and leaned against it, sighing quietly. "He's not going to be able to go home, is he?"

Ani shook his head. "I don't think so. Vader probably won't be able to keep any of this from Palpatine for very long, and Palpatine will be looking for him. Uncle Bail is going to arrange to send someone back to Ecarua 4 to relocate his mother if she's willing. Until she's settled somewhere safe, it's probably best for him to stay with us."

"You want to take him back to Dagobah?"

"For now," Ani nodded.

"You still don't think Vader knew where we were?"

"I doubt it. If he did, why go to all the trouble of kidnapping Mom and Shmi to draw me out? Why not just go there? Kill Yoda, take me. That would have brought Dad to him just as fast."

"I'd still rather leave the twins here with Mom and Dad," Isaly said slowly. Then she frowned. "No, not rather. But I think it's for the best. If you're wrong, or if anything else happens, I'd rather that they were somewhere safe already, and the center of the Fleet doesn't get much more protected."

Ani nodded in agreement. "Jareth's big enough that he'd be of help in any kind of emergency. He's already proven himself capable, and…well, I just don't think it's fair to saddle Mom and Dad with another kid now when he could just as easily come to Dagobah."

"What does he think of that?" Isaly asked.

"I don't know. I haven't asked him yet."

"And Shmi?" she asked.

He studied their daughter for a long moment before replying, "As far as I'm concerned, it's still her choice. It always has been. But either way, I don't think we should leave until she's ready for us to go."

------

A few days later, Padme found her husband alone in one of the conference rooms aboard Ackbar's flagship. He stood with his back to the door, leaning his forehead on his arm against the wide transparisteel pane of a viewport. He didn't turn as she approached, and she stepped quietly up beside him, running her palm absently over his back.

"What's on your mind?" she asked.

He started and glanced down at her in surprise, though she knew that he had felt her come in, even if he hadn't looked. His brow creased painfully, and he took a long time before finally beginning to speak.

"Once, during the Clone Wars, Anakin found me alone looking out a window like this, and he asked the same question. In exactly the same tone of voice," he murmured.

"Is that what you were thinking about?" she asked, looping her arm supportively through his.

"In a way, yes," he nodded. "Do you remember when you had Artoo record that holomessage with you and little Ani waving?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"The first time we saw it was the same day," he explained. "Before Artoo showed it to us we had been talking about Ani. I asked Anakin--"

"Asked him what?" she prompted gently.

"I asked him to--to take care of Ani--if anything happened to me," he related, his voice breaking on the words.

Padme gave a long, sympathetic sigh and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "I can imagine what he said."

"He gave me his word that he would care for Ani as if the boy was his own son. The worst is, I know he meant exactly that," Obi Wan told her.

"Of course he did," she agreed gently. "He always loved Ani."

"And now he _wants_ Ani. And Luke. Probably Leia too, if he's aware that she's our daughter and not Bail's. But I could feel it when we were fighting. He doesn't just want you anymore. He wants my boys. He wants to turn them against me _and_ each other," he said.

"He won't," she replied with quiet conviction.

"Everything was so much simpler when I could believe that he was dead--that there was nothing left. Then I didn't have to see how the Dark Side had twisted him, and yet somewhere in there, he was still alive," he said harshly.

"I know," she nodded.

"You never believed it, did you?"

"No," she whispered.

"You just let me," he sighed ruefully.

"I didn't see any reason to argue the point with you. It would only have hurt both of us," she told him. "If I was wrong, I'm sorry, Obi Wan."

"No," he shook his head. "You weren't. It's just--that was _Anakin_, Padme. When he jumped off that platform to save Shmi, there was _nothing_ of Vader in him. Then it wasn't Anakin anymore. I want him back. In spite of everything--or because of it--I don't even know. But I want him _back_."

"Well, why wouldn't you?" she asked with a smile she hoped was reassuring.

"I don't want to lose my sons in the process," he said wearily.

"Obi Wan, you won't," she promised.

He gave a defeated sigh and ran his hand over his face. Padme released his arm and turned to face him, laying her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Blaming yourself. Anakin's choices were his alone. No one made them for him. Least of all you," she told him firmly.

"Ani told me that when he came back to the temple to report to Mace that night, the first thing he said was 'I need to talk to Obi Wan!' If I had been there--if I hadn't let them split up the team--if I hadn't left him alone with Palpatine when I _knew--!"_

"Knew what?" she cut him off. "That he was Sith Lord? That he had been lying to and manipulating Anakin since he was a small boy? None of us knew it then, Obi Wan. No one, no matter what we suspected that he was trying to do the Republic, no one guessed who he really was! You warned Anakin. You did your best for him, and you did your duty. Anakin failed to do his. Don't you dare try to take responsibility for another man's moral failure!"

He lowered his head, still speaking in a low, defeated tone so full of regret that it almost choked her. "I was his teacher."

"You told me when you left the Jedi that you had taught him all you knew," she said.

He didn't answer.

"Well, didn't you?" she demanded, making her voice hard and unsympathetic in the hopes of snapping him out of this foolish and unnecessary guilt. "Didn't you do the best you knew how? Didn't you give him everything you had?"

Obi Wan looked up at her with tears in his eyes. "It wasn't enough. My best wasn't enough."

"It's enough for me," she said quietly. "And it is enough for our children."

------

Ani, Isaly, Han and the twins all sat rather solemnly around the main room of their parents' quarters. Bail, Obi Wan, and Padme were in a closed session of Alliance High Command, where Garm Bel Iblis was expected to withdraw Corellian support of the Rebel Alliance. The Kenobis also knew, as few outside the family did, that Obi Wan was also about to accept command of Echo Base, with Carlist Rieekan acting as his XO. With the Corellian withdrawal, the major objectors to such an important command being given to a Jedi Knight had no voice, and were likely to die out. Still, this decision did not rest easily with the Kenobi children, who also knew that Obi Wan still had major reservations about it.

Other decisions had been made as well, all of which weighed heavily on them. Ani and Isaly would be leaving again in another few days to finish what they had begun on Dagobah. Shmi had decided to remain behind, saying simply that Han was her Master and she belonged wherever he was. Neither of them was particularly happy with that choice, but they also could not say that it surprised them. What did surprise them--and everyone else--was Luke's continued reluctance to finish his Jedi training.

"We're going to need you, Luke," Ani said. "Palpatine has already defeated five of the best swordmasters that the old Jedi Order ever produced. He killed most of them without any help from Vader."

"You mean Uncle Anakin," Luke corrected bitterly, holding his brother's gaze with accusing eyes. There had been no way to keep the secret of Vader's identity after Shmi had discovered the truth. It had come as a sharp blow to Leia, whom Ani considered to be the one with the most right to feel betrayed, but oddly Luke seemed to be the one harboring the most resentment.

"Yes," he said without apology. The decision to hide the truth from the twins had not been his, and he would not question Obi Wan and Padme's right to address Anakin's identity as they saw fit. He also felt that this would hardly be an appropriate time to attempt to explain his personal distinction between Anakin and Vader. They were the same man, and he had never deluded himself about that.

Luke pushed himself out of the chair that he had been sitting in and shook his head. Then he turned and glared at the whitewashed wall, angrily keeping his back to his brother. "He tortured my sister."

"Leia is my sister too," Ani said without criticism.

"Maybe you should remember that a little more often," Luke retorted.

Ani deflated, pressing his fingers to his eyes. "I never forget it, Luke. I'm going to bed."

He rose and left over Isaly's objections, but he wasn't surprise to hear the door open and close behind him as he strode out into the hallway. What startled him was the realization that the presence behind him was not his wife. Freezing, he stood for a moment, then turned to see Leia standing with her back to the door, arms crossed in front of her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I have to do this. I hope you can both understand that someday."

"I…do understand it, Ani," she replied slowly. He sensed that she meant it, although that fact seemed to startle her as much as it surprised him. "Because nothing could change how much I love you or Luke."

"Vader will be held accountable for what he's done to you, and for Alderaan, if I have anything to say about it," he promised. "I just--can't abandon Uncle Anakin."

"I know," Leia nodded, her right hand reaching up to finger the worn jappor snippet that Anakin Skywalker had once given their mother. "You know, I've been waiting for you to come home for a while now. I wanted to tell you that…I think this finally fits again."  



	145. Another Wasteland

As he galloped up the windswept ice slope, Han Solo wondered how long it would be before someone made a sport of tauntaun racing. There wasn't much to bet on here, and even Sabacc got a little stale with the same bunch of guys playing night after night. Sooner or later, someone was bound to seize on the idea of a racing racket. He let out a rueful sigh, knowing that all he could do was hope that no one came up with it before he got back and could implement the scheme himself. Leia wouldn't approve, of course, and that would mean--

_"Echo Three to Echo Seven,"_ Luke's voice crackled over the comlink at his belt. _"Han, old buddy, do you read me?"_

For once, Han actually did. It was so cold here that even the comlinks kept freezing up. Transmissions were almost always garbled, and they would even sometimes be cut off mid-sentence, leaving members of a scouting party completely isolated unless the things happened to start working on their own. He sighed again and pulled the device off of his belt.

"Loud and clear, kid," he responded. "What's up?"

_"Well, I finished my circle. I don't pick up any life readings,"_ Luke told him.

"There ain't enough life on this icecube to fill a space cruiser. The sensors are placed. I'm going back."

_"Right. There's a meteorite that crashed near here. I'm gonna check it out. It won't--_" A burst of static cut off the rest of Luke's statement, and Han gave the comlink a quick shake.

"It won't what?" he demanded.

The crackling faded to the familiar hiss of dead air, and he grumbled to himself as he replaced the useless transmitter on his belt. He knew that the kid could take care of himself, but as he wheeled his tauntaun about and headed toward the base, he made a mental note to complain to Obi Wan about the comlink situation. Not that he really expected a solution to the problem, but the old man actually seemed to _enjoy_ it when he raised a stink about stuff like malfunctioning equipment, poor efficiency ratings, and the general lack of security and defensibility of the outpost with half their gear not working the way it was supposed to.

He'd given up trying to figure out why that was so funny. He'd asked Mom about it once, and all she'd had to say was that Han's griping reassured the old man that he wasn't going anywhere. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

"Yeah, well. So much for that, anyway," he muttered, speaking the words aloud in order to give them enough strength to drive away the nagging doubt that he couldn't quite erase from his mind. The Kenobis were getting to him. That realization alone should have been enough to send him running, but it wasn't. He shook his head, hoping to clear it with the action, and then consciously turned his mind back to his tauntaun racing schemes.

He occupied himself with those for the rest of the trip back to base, and he had just settled on what he thought would be the most profitable racket when he reached the gaping black mouth of the huge ice cave that was Echo Base. Inside, Rebel troops were still rushing about to secure the installation, much as they had been when he left. Han reigned in the tauntaun and swung off its back, then pulled off his goggles and shook the snow out of his hair. The heat of the base, although not really enough to have been called comfortable for human habitation, was both a shock and a relief after the frigid temperature outside. He took no time to enjoy it, however, striding purposefully off toward the main hangar deck.

"Han!" Shmi pushed her way through the crowd as he wended his way in the direction she was moving, and she had plastered herself to his side before he had been able to walk more than a few meters.

"Hey, kid," he replied, having long since gotten used to the uncanny way she seemed to know he was coming before anyone else.

"Where's Uncle?" she wanted to know, peering around for Luke.

"He went to check out some meteorite crash. He'll be in soon," Han told her.

She frowned, obviously unconvinced. "Are you sure?"

"Kid, you worry too much," he said dismissively. "Every time somebody's late for dinner, you think that funny feeling in your gut is the Force."

"You don't pay enough attention to your feelings," she countered.

"I pay attention when I know they ain't my over-active worry-switch," he told her, but he reached down to give her shoulder a little shake to soften the statement, and she lightened up.

"Well, anyway, you are in big trouble," she announced, craning her neck to look up at him with a half-faltering smile.

"Oh yeah?" he asked.

She pried herself loose from him and let him walk, falling into step beside him with the ease and casual air of a comrade rather than a dependent child. A few of the newer recruits looked askance at the pair, but most, like Han himself, accepted her presence and her attitude as simply the way of things.

"I don't think I've seen Chewie this mad, ever," she said, the last of her concern seeming to melt as she assumed a more conversational tone.

"Great," Han sighed.

"He taught me a whole bunch of new words in Shyriiwook," she related.

"Yeah, well, do me a favor and don't use any of those words around your grandparents. That'll get me in more trouble," Han retorted.

She gave him a look of pure, wide-eyed innocence. "But I want to practice them!"

"For what?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged impishly. "You never know when a bunch of Wookiee swears might come in handy."

"Yeah, right," Han shook his head as they stepped onto the hangar deck. Shmi only resumed her innocent face and stuffed her hands into her pockets as they approached the Falcon, where Chewie sat welding at one of the maintenance hatches. "You don't have to be so thrilled, kid."

"Who? Me?" her innocent expression never flickered.

"Yes," Han said. Then he looked up toward his friend. "Chewie! Chewie!"

Chewie growled some of those Wookiee swears and gave him a pointed look.

"All right, don't lose your temper!" he told his friend, holding up his hands. "I'll come right back and help you out."

He turned and hurried off the deck before Chewie could issue further protests. Shmi followed with a grin, well used to his kind of hit and run maneuver. Then, as they moved into the hallway her expression darkened.

"Han."

"What?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes!" he told her rolling his eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Too bad!"

"Why can't I come?" she demanded.

"Because Jabba is dangerous!"

"Then why are you going alone?"

"Kid, we been through this. I promised ya last night I'm comin' back. You wait for me here with your grandparents and take care of Leia," he told her.

"Aunt Leia doesn't need me to take care of her," Shmi shook her head. "You do."

"What do you think I am? Helpless?!" he cried.

"Reckless," she corrected.

"Oh, and you're not!" he sighed.

"I learned from the best," she shrugged.

"So you know I'll be fine," he said, resisting the slight upward tug that threatened to pull his lips into a smile.

"You know what Grandpa says about splitting up a team," she reminded him.

They were nearing the doors to the control room now, and he stopped, placing his hands sternly on his hips as he turned to face her. "He also said he don't want you anywhere near Jabba's palace."

"But--"

"Hey! Who's the Master in this operation?" he demanded suddenly.

"You are," she replied with an exaggerated sigh.

"That's right. Now, come on. I gotta talk to the old man," Han finished.

She looked as if she really wanted to say more, but she only clenched her teeth and followed him inside. Even if she no longer felt instantly compelled to do what he said, there were still a few perks to this whole Master and Apprentice deal. She knew when arguing just wasn't going to get her anywhere, and at that point she would at least hold her tongue.

He turned again, this time striding through the sliding door before she could start getting all teary-eyed and make him lose his nerve. He scanned the room for Obi Wan, but his eyes gravitated first toward Leia, who was sitting with her back to him on one side of the room. She had to know he was there, and he wasn't sure whether the fact that she was still giving him the silent treatment was infuriating or an immense relief. Probably both, he decided. If she wasn't gonna talk to him, it would make it easier for him and Chewie to get off this frozen rock, but the idea that she could still be mad enough to snub him left a hollow feeling in his gut.

_Ah, what the hell_, he thought, making a conscious effort not to stomp as he wended his way toward her father, who was standing with General Riekaan on the opposite side of the room. If she wanted to be this way, he wasn't gonna be able to talk her out of it, that was for sure.

"Son, did Luke come in with you?" Obi Wan asked. To anyone else, it would have sounded like an entirely casual question, but Han absently noted the undertone of concern in the old man's voice. Another time, he might have wondered about it, but right now, all he really heard was the way that Obi Wan said "son." It wasn't the first time, and he assumed it would hardly be the last, given his current relationship with Leia, but he still couldn't force himself to accept it. His stomach clenched as the old man turned to look at him. All thought of a last, good natured complaint session simply vanished from his mind, and he had to fight to keep himself from going stiff and rigid.

"No," he replied. "He went to check out a meteorite crash. Should be back any minute though."

Obi Wan frowned. "I see..."

"General, I have to go. I can't stay any longer," Han broke in, rushing forward with an awkward formality that only made him feel more uncomfortable. Shmi slid away from him, attaching herself to her grandfather, who reached down to touch her hair.

Looking at her, Han had the odd sensation that he was returning something that he'd only borrowed from the old man in the first place. Then Obi Wan looked up at him with such quiet disappointment that he had to force himself not to look away. He wouldn't argue; Han knew that much. He was too much the Jedi, and he knew that there was no dissuading Han when the smuggler's mind was made up.

"All right," he said softly. "Take care of yourself. And try to get back to us and in one piece."

"You're a good fighter, Solo," Rieekan added. "We'll be sorry to lose you around here."

"Thank you, sirs," Han nodded, then clenched his teeth and turned toward Leia, who still wasn't looking at him.

"Han," Obi Wan called.

He looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah."

"May the Force be with you."

He half-nodded, still uncomfortable, and walked over to Leia. Now she turned, looking at him with all the affection and concern she might have shown a dirty old winter coat on a spring afternoon. He opened his mouth, not really sure what he was going to say until words started tumbling into the air between them.

"Well, this is it. Time to say goodbye--or, uh--I'll talk to you later, Your Highness...?" he offered.

"That's right," she replied, her voice as cool and haughty as if he'd been some third-level retainer whose highborn master had upset her political sensibilities.

"Well, don't go all mushy on me. So long, _Princess!"_ he snapped, whirling on his heel to stomp out of the room.

What was the big deal anyway? he wondered as he stalked out into the hall. It wasn't like he'd decided to leave for good--and he could have! He'd thought about it too! Admittedly, the idea had entered and then left his mind in the space of about five seconds, but it _had_ been there. Now he was beginning to wonder if it really was such a bad idea after all. He still wasn't in this for their damned rebellion. As far as Han Solo was concerned, it was a crazy idealistic war with no real chance of being won. What kept him here was the Kenobis--not just Leia but all of em.

It had been a long time since he could honestly say that he cared about anybody enough to stick around on the losing side of a fight. A few years ago, he would have thought the whole idea was just plain crazy, but somehow or other this lunatic bunch had inspired his loyalty, and Han wasn't afraid to fight on the wrong side if it meant he had a chance of keeping his friends alive.

Still, he would have been lying if he'd tried to say that Leia was not his main reason for staying. He liked her brothers and Isaly; he even cared about the kids, and he never would have seen that coming in a million years. Mom and the old man were--well, they were Mom and the old man--but Leia was his girl. At least, that's what he would have said up until a few days ago. Now he didn't know, and he was on the verge of deciding that he didn't want to know anymore.

He'd been thinking about going to pay off Jabba for a while now. He figured they'd all be glad he did it, since he knew nobody liked having the threat of a vengeful Hutt hanging over his head. Mom had even made it clear to him that he'd better think about rectifying that situation if he wanted to keep staying in her good graces when it came to Leia's future. Not that he _really_ cared whether her parents approved of him, but it didn't hurt not to antagonize parents like these two. Besides, he didn't much like always having to look over his shoulder. It would be a relief to actually pay the fat, ugly, wart-ridden piece of slime anyway--or so he told himself.

That had been exactly what he'd planned to tell the Kenobis when he brought up the subject at breakfast. Then Leia had been all upset because he hadn't talked to her about it first, and the rest of them had raised a stink about him wanting to go alone. Well, showing up in full force, pulling blasters, and waving lightsabers around was all well and good when it came to fighting the Empire, but a guy didn't walk into Jabba's palace with an armed entourage. Especially in a case like this, when the guy happened to owe Jabba a small fortune. Besides, that just wasn't the way that Han did things--

"Han!"

He stopped short as Leia came charging into the hall behind him. "_Yes_, Your Worshipfulness!"

"Aren't you even going to say goodbye to Shmi?"

"We said our goodbyes," he told her without moving.

"What about my mother? Doesn't she deserve--"

"Oh, come on, will ya!" finally he spun around.

"What?"

"This isn't about Mom and the kid! Quit hiding behind your family!"

"_I'm_ not hiding!" she insisted, wide eyed.

"Then just say it. You want me to stay because of how you feel about me!" he demanded.

"Would it change anything?" she fired back.

"No," he told her flatly.

"Then why bother?"

For a second, he could only stare. Then he gave his head a small, disbelieving shake and snapped his fingers. "Aw, you probably have no idea, do you?"

He turned and started back down the hall, but she stayed resolutely at his heel. He tried to ignore and keep going, but she wasn't done talking. Her voice was almost shrill with an unspoken fear, and he couldn't tell whether she was afraid _for_ him or suddenly afraid _of_ him again--the way she'd been when she came down to him at the lake's edge on Naboo.

"And what _exactly_ am I supposed to know?"

"Nevermind!" he growled, because anything else might have made him turn around again, might have stopped him, and he knew that he had to do this, and he had to do it his way.

"Fine!" she huffed.

"Fine," he repeated, still not looking at her. "Leia, why are you following me?!"

"Because I'm coming with you," she said.

"No!" he spun, jabbing a finger in her face.

To his surprise, she didn't argue, but reached up quite casually and closed her hand around it. Then she smiled and said softly, "The way you keep waving this around, someone might get the idea that you'd like to have it broken off."

He resisted the urge to smile and tugged his hand away. "You ain't comin'."

"Yes, I am," she insisted as he turned and moved off again.

He shook his head. "I'm not debating with you this time, Princess."

"Good, because I'm coming no matter what you say," she informed him firmly.

"No, you're not!"

"Han! I'm practically a Jedi Knight!"

"I don't want you there!" he flung over his shoulder, reaching desperately for something--anything--that would get her to stop.

"You said you were coming back, didn't you?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes!" he snapped, confused by the shift in tactics.

"Then it's not dangerous. And there's no reason that I can't come along," she said decisively.

"I don't want you with me!" he repeated, raking his fingers through his hair. "I'm sick of the whole damn bunch of you followin' me around!"

Finally she did stop, and her voice was so small that he knew he'd gone too far. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do!" he yelled, still walking. If he halted now, if he backed down one inch, he knew that he would never get out of her without her.

"All right then," she shouted grimly after him, and his heart clenched at the sound. "I wouldn't hurry back!"


	146. Across The Planes

Ani had discovered that the practical aspects of studying saber combat with Master Windu were not all that different from the ways in which he had learned from Qui-Gon as a boy. The major physical difference was that Obi Wan had been involved in that training and could act as both instructor and sparring partner. Force ghosts could be as dense or translucent as they wished, and as such they could sit beside or even occasionally touch him, but they were not alive--at least not in the same way that Ani was. The physical dynamics and Force resonance associated with fighting a being made entirely of energy were different from those associated with organic beings. Since Ani was preparing himself to do battle with mortal beings, he needed to conduct the physical aspects of his training in such a way that his instincts and reflexes would be honed and attuned to beings with living tissue, weight, and mass. There also seemed to be limits--the extent of which Ani wasn't sure--on how much influence the Jedi Spirits could exert on the mortal plane. Otherwise, he was sure that Qui-Gon and Mace would already have dealt with both Vader and Sidious.

So, at first, Master Windu would set him to a series of exercises against imaginary opponents, setting goals for him that honed both body and mind in the skills and principles inherent to Jar'kai combat and the use of a dual bladed saber. They also used marked trees with the lower limbs and branches removed for body-target-zone practice-- although this was as much for young Jareth's benefit as for Ani's. He was only six, but the aptitude and reserve that he had demonstrated on _Executor_ had convinced Ani that he was ready to start learning the basics of Form I.

The goal of this kind of practice was not to actually strike the tree but to come just close enough to leave a visible scorch--and no more--on the outer bark. In lieu of the remotes which Obi Wan had once used to train Ani and Luke, Yoda--eventually with Jareth's assistance--would hurl small rocks and other projectiles through the Force. In some respects, it was a less humane method of training, and at first it was less effective than the remotes wouldl have been. The little missles might inadvertently cause Ani harm and they were being thrown by beings whose intent could be read more easily than a lifeless drone's whereabouts could be sensed. Still, on the whole it accomplished its intended task. Yoda was quite good at hiding or distorting his intentions during these sessions, and he began teaching Jareth the same tricks. To Ani's mild dismay and Isaly's immense satisfaction, the boy was a quick learner who seemed to have already picked up some of Shmi's half-unconscious knowledge of the Jedi mind-trick, Alter-Mind and Force-illusion. That made the sort of thing that Yoda was teaching him quite easy to wrap his brain around.

Ani had always been a bright and highly disciplined student, so in spite of the somewhat crude and unorthodox methods, he made steady, sometimes even impressive progress. As he attained one objective, another would be set, and if he had ever held the illusion that Obi Wan had been a demanding combat instructor, he was rapidly and permanently relieved of that notion. However, the real impact of Master Windu's instruction, the most difficult lessons, and the most taxing demands he made on Ani were the spiritual ones. Ani had not come to Mace with the desire to learn Vapaad. Even so, as he listened to the Master's words, he learned that Vaapad was more than just the completion of Juyo; more than a physical form of combat at all; and even more than the mind-body discipline that he had always supposed it was. Vapaad was a way of life, a worldview all its own, in which Mace Windu was so invested that he could not teach outside of it. Mace might not teach it to him outright, any more than he had taught it to Anakin Skywalker, but Ani was an astute and careful listener. Obi Wan had both encouraged and honed those traits in him, as had Qui-Gon, from a time long before he was old enough to understand what they were doing. While he did not lack self-confidence, he had only a fraction of the immense Force potential that had both gifted and blinded Anakin. His ego was not inflated by pride in his abilities. He could recognize his own limitations, and Vaapad's core spoke to the largest of those limitations with perfect acuity.

"You fear that Sidious will use your aggressive feelings toward him against you," Mace told him with typical bluntness. "It is your fear that stands in your way, now, not your aggression, Anakin. It blinds you, makes you hesitate to rely on what you know, mistrust your feelings."

"But how can I change that if I can't banish those feelings?" Ani asked with a frown.

"Don't banish them at all," Mace told him, gently raising an eyebrow. "Master them. Master yourself and you take away the Sith Lord's weapon against you."

"Turning my darkness into a weapon of light," Ani set his jaw and gave a faint nod. "I think…I think I understand."

"Do you?" Mace prompted.

"The real task is to master myself enough to forego revenge even while desiring it; to feel without acting out of hatred or bloodlust," Ani said.

Windu inclined his head. "Good. Now. Repeat that last set of blocks and parries. Your defenses are still too slow."

"Yes, Master."

"Burn it down," commanded Darth Vader, who stood outside a small family cottage on Ecarua 4. The stormtroopers who flanked him all hurried to obey. What had begun as a search mission had become, for the Dark Lord, little more than an act of vengeance. It would be a message to anyone left in this pitiful settlement who would dare aid the Rebel Alliance, especially if that aid went to anyone with Kenobi blood.

His failure to deliver the Kenobis to his Master had cost him dearly. Not only had the events on Mustafar further weakened Palpatine's willingness to trust him, but it had earned him many long, excruciating hours of punishment. He had no more limbs to cut off, and the Emperor had already robbed him of the one prosthetic hand which had actually fit and functioned properly. He didn't want to remove the arm, since leaving that much intact could still, from time to time, foster the illusion that the hand was going to work the way Vader expected it to. When it didn't and his reaction time was just enough slower than he expected that he dropped or couldn't grasp what he was trying to reach, he was forced to remember _who_ was Master and who was the half-living slave.

He had then been ordered to track down not the Kenobis but the Ecaruan native boy who had been with Shmi and Padme. He clenched his hand into a fist at that insult, burying it in the cup of his other hand and wished for the thousandth time since their last encounter on Mustafar that he had called his lightsaber to his grasp and relieved Obi Wan of his aging, still swollen, and excessively verbose head after that final, pathetic barb.

_"He is the hero today."_

Surrounded as they were, it would have been a suicidal gesture, and Vader was not prepared to take his enemy's life until he was in a position to enjoy that long-awaited revenge. Luke had not immediately obeyed the old man's order--a fact which still did not surprise Vader in the least. What _had_ surprised him was the harshness with which Obi Wan then repeated his order to stand down.

_"How do you think you are going to transport this man back to the Fleet? Neither the Falcon nor the Tan-seven are equipped with a brig, and even if they were, their facilities would not be capable of holding him. If you think that he is simply going to cooperate and sit quietly in a cell, you are mistaken. If you did manage to get him to the Fleet alive, he would escape, kill everyone on the ship with him, and then the location of the entire Fleet would be compromised. I am not going to kill him in cold blood, especially after he just risked his life to save my granddaughter. Lower your weapon, Commander. He is free to leave."_

It was a rebuke the likes of which Obi Wan might once have given Anakin Skywalker, but Vader had thought that the old man had grown far too soft to handle his apprentices this way. He didn't need the Force to tell him how Luke would be gritting his teeth as he complied. He knew well that no one--least of all Luke himself--had missed the use of his military rank, a subtle reminder of Obi Wan's much vaunted authority over him. For Anakin, it had been "young one" or "Padawan," but the reminder was the same, and it would rankle the boy. It made no difference whether or not Obi Wan was _right_--which in this case he actually was. Luke's actions were entirely justified, and both of them knew it. It was foolhardy to release such a valuable and dangerous prisoner; if he could not be safely held, then the proper military decision was to take his life--immediately, before he could gain enough strength to resist. Obi Wan, of course, would never have committed such a dishonorable act, nor would he tolerate it in a subordinate, even his own son.

"More fool you, old man," he muttered. It had not been difficult to track the Ecaruan traitors here, but it seemed that the Kenobis had beaten him to the child's mother. It was just as well. They would return sooner or later, and in the meanwhile, Vader would continue his search. Since they were not here, it was fairly obvious to him that Obi Wan or Ani would have taken the boy with the intent to train him. So, by obeying his Master and continuing this search, Vader would in fact be led to them. Which was entirely what he wanted.

Suddenly, he paused, his reverie broken by a disturbance in the Force. He felt it directly…and, oddly, it was echoed back to him a moment later through the Force bond he shared with Anakin Kenobi. He tilted his head, considering for a moment longer, then whirled and strode back toward the transport ship that was waiting to return him to the _Executor._

From where he sat on a tree-stump overlooking Ani's impromptu practice arena, Jareth really had no idea what Master Windu was talking about. To him, the Jedi Knight and his oddly mismatched lightsabers were no less than a perfectly timed display of fluid symmetry. Ani moved with the sinuous grace of a cat--and for Jareth to say that, the compliment actually meant something. Often times, his lightsabers flashed and spun so fast that the motion was impossible to follow, and all the while, he kept his imaginary opponents weaving and ducking, jumping, flipping, and darting through the clearing. If this was too slow, the boy couldn't imagine what _good enough_ would be, but he was sure that he would soon learn to recognize it and then see Ani surpass it. If there was one thing he had discovered about Shmi's father, it was that he never settled for _good enough._

Isaly walked up from the direction of the houses and grabbed a low hanging branch, pushing it out of her way as she ducked under it. She untied the spare tunic that she usually carried around her waist and spread it on the damp grass beside Jareth's tree stump. Then she dropped down onto it with her knees drawn up, crossing her ankles in front of her. He took his eyes off of Ani for a moment to acknowledge her, and he wasn't at all surprised to see a datapad in her hand.

"How's he doing?" she asked.

"Master Windu says he's still too slow with the defense blade," he replied.

She let out a breath in annoyance.

"That's what I said."

"Good."

"What are you working on?" he asked, gesturing toward the pad.

She tapped the device on and handed it to him. What it showed was a diagram of a human brain and a partial cut away of the spinal cord with various areas lit up in either red or green. He examined it for few moments, frowning at the odd implants at the base of the brain.

"S'posed to be Vader?"

"It's an extrapolation from Ani's visions and what we know from the Death Star fight," she nodded. "I'm going to see if we can't take your advice."

"It's not my advice," he shook his head. "My mom knows about this stuff."

He was used to being around healers, and he'd naturally been curious about the work that she was doing, so she had explained to him that she and Ani were trying to figure out a way to help Vader by reversing some of the damage that had been done to his nerves a long time ago on Mustafar. It was a nice idea, but the problem they kept running into was that without being able to get him out of that armor get-up, there wasn't much they could do, and most of what they _did_ manage would probably be undone by the suit itself. Isaly had a plan for getting Vader out of the tin can, but Ani said the Sith Lord just wasn't going to trust them. That was when Jareth had remembered what his mother had done a few times with guys who were hurt real bad--temporarily shutting off the pain receptors in their heads so she could get them back to the medcenter where they could be dumped in bacta tanks or whatever else they needed. If Ani could get Vader to let him do that with the Force, then maybe he'd trust them enough to allow them to do more. If not he figured they were no worse off than they were now.

"Still," Isaly smiled. "Ani and I appreciate all your help."

"I don't mind," he shrugged.

It was the truth. Getting thrown in with the Kenobis had been confusing to say the least for him. One day he'd been content to wander around the forests of Ecarua 4, playing at being a Jedi whenever Qui-Gon popped in but without much real thought beyond what he was going to have for dinner that night. The next day, he was suddenly trapped on a massive starship, held prisoner by _Darth Vader_ for reasons that were mostly a mystery to him.

Then they told him that he couldn't go home because Palpatine might try to find him. That news came as less of a surprise than he guessed they were expecting. He couldn't remember his father's face or his voice anymore; about the only clear memory he had was of the day he learned what secret lay buried beneath the well at the far end of the yard. Hiding from the Emperor was simply a fact of life for him, and not hiding well enough meant that he, too, might disappear forever. At least by going with Ani now, he reasoned, he stood a chance of seeing his mother again.

It had taken him a while to actually feel as though he fit with this strange group of people. Shmi's family was an odd mix of individuals, some of whom were actually related and others who seemed to have been thrown in among the Kenobis and adopted. It was hard to keep track of everyone and how they were connected to everyone else. Leia, for example, had two fathers. Her second father, Bail Organa, was actually part of the royal family of Alderaan, which made Leia a princess. Yet, even though Ani and Luke called the man "Uncle Bail," nobody thought of them as princes.

All the pilots connected with Rogue Group called Padme "Mom," but only a few called Obi Wan "Dad." That actually made sense; Padme was the kind of lady that could make a guy just naturally feel like he was in his own house. Obi Wan was…well...nice, but not in the same way. Plus he outranked the Rogues, so mostly they called him "sir."

Han Solo was utterly impossible to figure out. He was Leia's boyfriend or something, and he always called Padme "Mom" too, which Jareth had originally thought must be because he and Leia were going to get married sometime soon. Han got all grumpy when he'd asked about it, then Shmi had butted in and said _of course_ they were getting married soon. Jareth had decided that it was better if he just stopped asking questions. Han was also Shmi's Master, and he had assumed that this made him a Jedi Knight, because he couldn't imagine why else Shmi would be apprenticed to him. It turned out that Han was a smuggler, which left the boy scratching his head in confusion. He didn't think the Kenobis were the kind of folks who went for smuggling, and he couldn't understand why Isaly would let one of her kids run around doing all kinds of illegal stuff like that. As far as he could figure, it wasn't the smuggling that Han was supposed to be teaching her, just stuff about how to take care of herself, fix things, and fly the _Falcon._ All of that stuff seemed like it would be good for her to know, and he guessed that the apprenticeship had to be for real otherwise Shmi would have come back to Dagobah with her parents.

The most bizarre of these "unofficial" Kenobi connections had to be between Obi Wan and Darth Vader. Pretty much everyone said that Vader was--or at least _had been_--Obi Wan's brother. That had seemed kind of simple until he figured out that Vader's name was Anakin _Skywalker._ Jareth had sat in a corner with his head in his hands for a long time after that revelation, unsure whether he wanted to know why Obi Wan and his brother had completely different last names. Finally, he had sucked up his courage and gone to ask Obi Wan, who had been kind of surprised but patiently mapped out the whole complicated relationship between himself and Vader.

Just when he was getting used to this huge clan and all their weird interconnections, everyone scattered. Bail Organa stayed with the Fleet, kind of like an anchor that kept them all tethered to the rest of the Rebellion. Ani and Isaly had gone back to Dagobah, taking Jareth with them. Here he'd met Yoda and Mace Windu, and started learning more seriously about the ways of the Force. Obi Wan and Padme went to Hoth, where he was supposed to be in charge of the new Rebel Base. They took Shmi and the little twins with them, but Ani said that Shmi would spend more time running around on missions with Han than with her grandparents. Luke and Leia also went to Hoth, but Jareth gathered that they would also have missions to occupy them. Luke was a famous pilot, and he went on all kinds of dangerous adventures for the Rebellion. Leia was a Jedi apprentice, and from what he had seen, she was almost as good with one lightsaber as Ani was now getting to be with two.

He wondered if they would all be leaving Dagobah soon and what would happen to him when they did. Bail had set his mother up somewhere, but even he didn't know exactly where. Ani had explained that this was so that she would be safer until the war was over. As far as Jareth could see, the war wasn't any closer to being over, so he had resigned himself to the reality that he wouldn't get to see her for a long time. He liked Ani and Isaly, though. If he couldn't be with his mother, at least they were nice, and he liked having someone like Ani around to do guy stuff with.

"You think Ani and me might get to go on a mission for the Rebellion sometime?" he asked Isaly.

She raised her eyebrows. "What kind of mission?"

"I don't know. Maybe rescue somebody. We could take a couple starfighters and shoot our way through a bunch of Imps. Then we'd land on a big ship--like _Executor_ maybe-- and sneak around till we find whoever it is. Shmi and me know how to get into the vents, so it'd be easy. I could show Ani how."

"Sounds dangerous," Isaly remarked.

Jareth nodded. "Real dangerous. We might get caught and have to have a big lightsaber fight--or maybe wreck the whole ship and then I'd have to crash land us somewhere and save everybody."

Isaly covered her face with her hand. "He's been telling you Kenobi and Skywalker stories, hasn't he?"

Jareth beamed.

She shook her head. "All right, so why do you have to crash land the ship? Where's Ani?"

"Maybe he's hurt," Jareth frowned. "He doesn't like flying anyway. Oh! Maybe he's busy with Vader."

"Vader's there?"

"Course he's there. _Executor_ is his ship. If I'm crashing it, he's _gotta_ be busy, and that means Ani's busy too."

"So Ani's dueling Vader while you're crashing the ship?"

"Yeah."

"_Executor's_ kinda big for one guy to handle on his own, isn't it?"

"Well…" he frowned. "Maybe they realize the ship is crashing and decide to stop fighting until later. Or maybe Ani can get Vader to turn back to the Light Side. That'd be better. Then afterward, we could have a big party. Bet my mom could even come. She'd know about it cause the whole thing would be on the HoloNews, and she'd be so proud of me that she'd have to come. Wouldn't she?"

Isaly reached out to touch his cheek, smiling with sad understanding. "You miss your mother."

He nodded then offered a smile in return. "You miss your kids."

Her hand slid down to clasp his smaller one, and they both turned back to Ani, who was executing a backflip to escape the reach of his unseen foe. Jareth started to smile, but the expression shattered and his jaw fell open as the Knight came down heavily, staggered back, and fell, the lightsabers whirling wildly from his grip. Both he and Isaly sprang up and ran to him, followed by Yoda, but by the time they reached him, Ani was struggling to sit up again.

"What happened?" Jareth asked.

"Ani, are you all right?" Isaly dropped to her knees beside him.

"I'm fine," he nodded. "But Luke--"


	147. The Bond of Brotherhood Revisited

Luke awoke with blood pounding in his temples. He slowly cracked open his eyes, aware of the weight of his arms somehow being suspended above his head. For a second, all he saw was a wall of blinding white, and he blinked, disoriented. He struggled to look around and abruptly realized that his arms weren't hanging _above_ his head at all. Heaving himself upright--or at least what _felt_ like upright in his current position, he saw that his boots were encased in ice, and _he_ was hanging, completely upside down, from the roof of a cave.

"Ugh," he grunted, letting himself drop again. "Ani is never gonna let me live this down. And he and Han are just gonna have a field day…okay. Nevermind. Gotta get off the ceiling."

He closed his eyes for a second, feeling his head begin to spin. His awareness became dim and fuzzy. It took a long moment for him to bring his Jedi training to bear and clear his mind. Hypothermia was probably setting in, and being upside down was enough to potentially cause him to pass out from the rush of blood to his head. He pulled himself up again and tried to free his legs, but the stalactites that he was frozen into held fast. He collapsed back down as a chilling, bestial moan echoed off the cavern walls.

Where was his--

_Lightsaber._

He groaned, stretching his fingers toward the weapon, which was half buried in ice about three feet from him. Closing his eyes again, he tried to concentrate enough to call it to his hand, but it too seemed wedged in by the ice. The monstrous animal was getting closer, and fear crept in, closing his throat. He forced himself to take a breath and bring his near-panic under control. Then he opened himself to the energy around him and sank more deeply into it, until he could see that the ice, the lightsaber, and his hand were all part of the same thing. He nudged the ice, and it gave a bit, allowing him to tug the weapon loose. It slowly twisted, then sprang into his hand just as the shaggy white form of a wampa was about to reach him. He lunged up again, swinging the blade, and felt himself fly free. Using the Force to flip himself about as he fell, he landed, awkwardly but on his feet, and brought the weightless blade around again, slicing the wampa in half.

Then, only half aware of what he was doing, he thumbed the lightsaber off, staggered out of the cavern and half trudged, half fell down the packed snowbank beyond the gorge. Cold unlike anything he had ever experience assailed his battered body. Despite the many layers of insulated clothing he wore, the buffeting wind sliced through his flesh and pierced his bones until he thought the air itself had become sentient--an utterly malevolent predator bent on ripping him apart before it had even finished killing him.

"Young fool," murmured a soft, deceptively tremulous voice close to him. He forced his head up, beset the conviction that the sound was even more malignant than the murderous wind. "Only now, at the end, do you understand."

He moaned, squinting into the darkening twilight ahead of him. A familiar figure lay on the ground a few meters away, his red hair a brilliant stain against the stark white of the snow. Between them glided someone--something--else with hands outstretched, cutting Luke off from his brother though he struggled to pull himself further across the frozen ground. As he watched, crackling blue streaks of energy shot forth from the being's fingers, striking Ani and crawling over him as the Jedi Knight screamed and writhed in pain.

"Ani…? Anakin!"

"You can't save him, boy. He was mine before you were ever born…"

-------

"Why did you take these apart now?!" Han asked, staring in disbelief at the sight of both the _Falcon's_ central lifters on the floor below the ship. "I'm trying to get us out of here, and you pull both of these!"

Chewie barked something rather unflattering about his maternal lineage in reply, but before Han could formulate a comeback, the annoyingly polite, simpering voice of C-3P0 interjected. "Excuse me sir."

Han ignored him, but his insult-momentum had been broken. All he said to Chewie was a curt, "Put them back together right now."

Threepio wasn't going away. "Might I have a word with you, please?"

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"It's Mistress Leia, sir," the droid said. "She's been trying to get you on the communicator."

That did not surprise him one bit. Fortunately, his comlink was still broken. And even if it hadn't been, he would have turned it off. "It's frozen."

"Oh. Well, Mistress Leia is wondering about Master Luke. He hasn't come back yet. She doesn't know where he is," Threepio informed him.

"I don't know where he is," Han said in a patronizing tone.

"Nobody knows where he is," Threepio said.

Sudden alarm shot through Han. The kid had been worried too. That wasn't anything unusual, but then Obi Wan had asked about Luke, and now Leia. And _nobody_ knew where he was? He walked out from beneath the ship and stepped into Threepio's face.

"What do you mean, _nobody knows_?"

"Well, you see, sir…"

He didn't wait for the droid to finish stammering. Instead he strode toward the Deck Officer on duty, shouting for attention. "Deck Officer! Deck Officer!"

Threepio tottered after him. "Excuse me, sir, might I enquire--"

Han clapped a hand over the yammering droid's mouth as the Deck Officer turned and came closer to him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you know where Commander Kenobi is?"

"I haven't seen him. It's possible he came in through the south entrance," the man replied without any apparent concern.

"It's possible?" Han jabbed two fingers at him. "Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there."

"Yes sir," he said then moved off again.

Han let his hand slide off of Threepio's trap and immediately realize that it was a mistake to let him start talking again. The droid wasted no time in picking up where he had left off. "Excuse me, sir, might I enquire as to what's going on?"

"Why not?" Han said absently, already dismissing the droid as he began retracing Luke's patrol circle in his mind. He'd finished it, so he had to have been somewhere close to his point of origin when he saw the meteorite, and hopefully that would mean he wouldn't be _too_ far out.

He strode toward the main tunnel, calculating possible distances and making a mental inventory of gear and supplies that he could conceivably carry with him. They'd need shelter in case they got caught out over night, a medkit if the kid was hurt--and he _had_ to be hurt or else he'd be back already…

-------

Obi Wan found the rest of his family clustered in the entryway of the main hangar. Padme stood motionless, staring out the vast frozen landscape beyond as if by the power of her will alone she might usher the boys safely in before the shield doors had to be closed. Leia leaned against her right side and Shmi clung to her left while she kept a protective arm wrapped around each of their shoulders. He stopped and pulled in a ragged breath at the sight of them, but what truly made his throat begin to ache was miserable, forlorn state of his grandsons.

At three years old now, Obi-Too and Junior were able to understand that both Han and their Uncle Luke were somewhere outside, lost in the bleak and inhospitable terrain of Hoth. Worse, their empathic sensitivities made them painfully aware of the growing fear among their adult relatives and, by the looks of them, the shift from worry to resignation among the other Rebel personnel around them. They were huddled on the cold floor with their arms around one another, foreheads so close that they were nearly touching as they leaned against the warm, furry bulk of Chewbacca for comfort and shelter. Chewie kept a protective eye on them, but most of his attention was riveted on the darkening horizon, and he didn't pick the boys up or try to play with them the way that he usually would have.

He briefly laid a hand on Chewie's arm, tightened his fingers and let his arm drop again. Then, he hunkered down in front of the twins and held out his arms. "Come on, boys, let's get off the floor."

They turned with an eerily concerted motion and regarded him with listless expressions. Finally, Obi-Too reached for his neck, and Junior followed a second later. Obi Wan sighed softly and hefted them off the ground, walking over to stand just behind Padme's shoulder. She didn't look back at him.

Major Derlin and a few other officers hung about the hangar, either going about their duties or keeping a surreptitious watch on Leia and Padme. Artoo and Threepio drifted over to them as well, and Artoo gave a low, sad-sounding series of beeps and whistles.

"Sir, all the patrols are in. There's still no contact from Commander Kenobi or Captain Solo," the watch officer reported to Derlin.

The Major's glance flicked toward Obi Wan, who nodded faintly. Artoo twittered softly, and Threepio translated, "Artoo says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope."

Obi Wan caught Leia's eye and held her gaze for another moment. "The shield doors have to be closed."

"Master, they're still alive out there," she said.

"I know they are," he said. "I've given them all the time I can. There is nothing more we can do tonight. Our equipment is still freezing up, and going out on Tauntauns would be a cruel and pointless gesture. The animals would die."

"Will they still be alive in the morning?" Padme asked dully, still not looking at him.

He suppressed a wince. "They are both strong, resourceful men. And I'll have teams out again as soon as it's warm enough."

"Close the doors," Derlin ordered.

Leia turned to face him as the doors began to close. Shmi followed suit, and finally Padme turned as well.

"I want to be out there," Leia said.

"Of course," he nodded. Then he looked toward his granddaughter, whose jaw was already set with determination. "Little One, I know it's not what you want, but I need you to stay with your brothers tomorrow. Grandma is going to be with me in the command center until we find them."

"G'apa, we help too!" Junior objected loudly, glaring at him.

"Yes," he said gravely. "You can both help. You can help the most by staying right here with Artoo and Threepio. Monitoring transmissions in case we miss something."

Shmi sighed heavily, well aware that what he was asking her to do was to keep the twins occupied while the adults did the searching. She also knew that _someone_ had to do that, and there was little she could otherwise do to help the search. The Rogues and other officers trained for such activities would be out on patrol, and it would have been impossible to have three anxious children underfoot in the command center.

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

Then the clang of the shield doors locking into place echoed through the hangar, and the last sound that any of them heard was Chewbacca's long, mournful howl.


	148. Ripples In A Pond

A medical team met them on the hangar deck along with the two droids and a cluster of harried and worried-looking Kenobis. Han and Wedge lifted Luke, still delirious and moaning about Dagobah and Ani, onto the waiting stretcher. Leia clutched at Han's hand for a second, then rushed off up the hall with her brother. It happened so quickly that he didn't have time to wonder what it meant, whether he was forgiven. He looked after her, realizing that _he_ had forgiven her the second she showed up out there with the Rogues, and then he wondered what _that_ meant.

He'd expected Mom and the old man to hurry off with Luke, but they didn't. A frown began to form on his forehead, but as he opened his mouth, the two of them skirted Chewie, who surprisingly did not object, and practically assaulted him with rib-crushing hugs. He stood there, so stunned that he couldn't even pull away, and then he gave a long, annoyed sigh. Reluctantly, he raised his arms to return the embrace and peered self-consciously over Obi Wan's shoulder. Chewie and Wedge were standing behind the old man, tilting their heads in consideration. Then Wedge turned to Chewie, who looked back at him silently. Both of them broke out grinning.

"Okay, okay! I'm a hero! Now will ya get offa me!" Han cried, unable to stand anymore.

Obi Wan pulled back first. Padme held on to him for another moment, then she finally released him and laid her hands on the sides of his face the way she might have with one of her kids. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah!" he jerked away impatiently. "I ain't the one on the stretcher."

He tried to get past them, but then Chewie grabbed him and he was stuck anyway. By the time the Wookiee finished mauling him, Mom, the old man, and the twins were all disappearing the way that Leia had gone. Shmi stood beside Wedge, casually waiting for Chewie to let go.

"Whatsamatter, you were afraid I didn't freeze to death out there so you wanted to suffocate me instead?" he complained at the Wookiee, who responded by slapping a huge hand down on his head and ruffling his hair. Han sighed again.

Not to be outdone by either Chewie or her grandparents, Shmi jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist as her arms encircled his neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her to keep his back from giving out and affected a wince.

"Geez, kid. Lay off the dessert for a while, huh?"

"Thanks for saving Uncle Luke's butt again, Han," she smiled.

"Yeah well. Y'know, somebody has to keep an eye on things with your dad gone," he said, not bothering to peel her off of himself before he stared up the hall.

They had dumped Luke into a bacta tank by the time Han and Shmi got there. Obi Wan and Padme stood watching on one side of it with their arms around each other. Padme wept softly into his shoulder while he murmured quiet reassurance to her. Han kept from watching them by making a big procedure of setting Shmi on her feet. Leia was on the opposite side of the tank with a twin holding on to each hand, and Shmi darted toward them, leaving Han with nothing quite safe to look at besides Luke, so he stared studiously at his friend.

After a while, Leia turned her gaze from the tank to her parents. Han shifted his eyes as well, but so far as he could tell, nothing had changed. They were still standing exactly as they had been. She was still crying, he was shushing her, and the whole thing was making Han slightly nervous. No matter how often he saw stuff like that, he could never quite reconcile Obi Wan, the Jedi General with Obi Wan the man. He had decided that he liked the old man a lot better when he had his hood on.

Leia's eyes moved again, this time catching his before he could look the other way. She freed her hand from the death-grip that Junior had on it and reached out to touch Shmi's shoulder. The girl lifted her head to look up at her aunt.

"Keep an eye on the kids, all right? Han and I have to go into the hallway," she said.

He opened his mouth to protest, took one look at Obi Wan and Padme, and snapped it closed again. Rolling his eyes, he followed her through the infirmary and out into the hallway. There, he braced the sole of his left foot on the wall behind him and crossed his arms, waiting in silence.

She crossed her own arms and looked back at him with an air of defiance, as if she wanted to avert her eyes, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Her jaw tightened, and he wasn't sure if she was about to cry or if whatever she wanted to say was so repulsive that she just couldn't spit the words out.

"Thank you," she said at last, far too frostily to fool him.

The right corner of his mouth moved upward. "You're welcome."

Silence fell again, heavy with other things that each of them knew needed to be said. Neither spoke, unwilling to be the first to relent. At length, Han cut his gaze pointedly toward the door they had just come through.

"That it?" he asked.

"I'm--sorry I told you not to come back," she said reluctantly. "I know it's not easy for you to believe, but as far as anybody in there is concerned, you're one of us. That's why everybody likes to follow you around so much."

"So you're sorry because your family wants me around and you think you chased me off," he said, annoyed all over again.

"If I didn't want you around, Han, it wouldn't matter what they wanted," she sighed angrily.

"You sure about that?"

"What do you think?" she demanded.

He gave her an unrepentant grin.

Leia grit her teeth. "I want you to come back."

"Okay," he shrugged.

"_Okay?!_" she echoed. "That's _it?!_"

He furrowed his brow as if in consideration of the question. Then he looked up at the ceiling, raised his hand, and made a show of ticking things off on his fingers. Finally, he looked back at her. "Yep."

"Oh, you're just _impossible!_"

-------

Luke held the hilt of Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber stretched between his palms, his eyes moving over the familiar weapon as slowly and carefully as they would have studied the wiring of a bomb or a riddle which, if he answered it correctly, might be the key to ending this war, ending the _Empire_ once and for all. Even before Ani had laid it in his hands on the day that Owen and Beru Lars were murdered, he had known this weapon well. He had trained with it for years, and up until a few months ago, it had always seemed to be a symbol of consummate skill in the Jedi Arts, heroism, and loyalty. He'd felt unworthy to carry it. After Mustafar, he had considered giving it back to his brother. He didn't want it anymore, and he couldn't understand why Obi Wan had kept it all this time. Returning it to his father would have been too painful. It would have felt too much like a rejection of his Jedi heritage, a rejection of the things that Obi Wan had taught him, and whether or not he had wanted to complete his training and carry the title of Jedi Knight, his father's teachings were as much a part of him as anything he had gained as an officer in the Rebel Alliance. Giving it to Ani had seemed like a reasonable compromise; after all, Ani was the one who was convinced that Vader could be redeemed. Shouldn't _he_ carry Anakin's lightsaber?

Leia had convinced him to keep it. A few days before Ani had left for Dagobah, the twins had been discussing everything that had happened on Mustafar. Luke had said that he was giving the lightsaber to their brother and he couldn't understand why Leia still wanted to keep the jappor necklace. It too had once belonged to Anakin Skywalker.

_"I don't think of it as something that belonged to Vader,"_ she told him. _"Anakin gave it to Mom because he wanted her to remember him. Mom gave it to Ani because he wanted to remember the man Anakin had been. Then Ani gave it to me when I was a baby because he wanted me to remember where I came from. When I left for Alderaan, I gave it back to him so that he would remember me. Then when I came home…I needed it again, I guess. I needed something tangible to help me remember. For me it was about being a Kenobi, and now that I know the truth about Vader, it only makes it more important. Because Ani is a Kenobi, even if he's doing something that makes me very uneasy. It has nothing to do with whether or not I agree with him; he's my brother, and I love him."_

"But Vader is all tied up in that necklace. How can it still remind you of what it means to be a Kenobi?" Luke had protested.

_"It just does. It always has. I can't erase the things it's come to mean. And…if Vader is all tied up in this necklace that's so much a part of what it means to be me…maybe Ani's right. Maybe there is something left to save. And even if there isn't, I think Anakin Skywalker is worth remembering. The lightsaber is the same thing for you,"_ Leia had said.

_"What do you mean?"_

"Think about it. Dad is the one who trained Anakin. Everything he knew, everything he believed in, came from our father. He was a Jedi Knight who had a family. His lightsaber was his means of protecting the people he loved. Dad taught him how to build it and how to use it. Then they became partners in a war that, ultimately was a conflict between the Light and Dark Sides of the Force. The war shattered them, but it didn't destroy them. I think Dad picked up the lightsaber because it was the part of Anakin that Vader couldn't reach. He kept it safe, and when the time came, he chose to give it you. He could have given it to Ani, but he didn't. There was reason for that."

"What reason?"

"I don't know entirely. But…he didn't intend to train Ani by himself. Remember? Ani was always supposed to be Master Yoda's Padawan. Even before that agreement, Dad didn't teach Ani by himself. There was always Qui-Gon. All three of them had a hand in Ani's Jedi training, and now Mace Windu is teaching him too. You are the one Dad chose to teach by himself, the way he taught Anakin. Can you think of one thing that you believe, one thing that's important to you that doesn't in some way or another go back to Dad and the way he's taught you?"

"No, I guess not," Luke had admitted slowly.

_"You have a family, and the people you love are more important to you than anything else. Maybe when Dad sees those things in you, he remembers the man that Anakin was, the same way he probably does when he looks at that lightsaber. It's not Vader's. It never was. It's Anakin's. It's a Jedi weapon. And I think that by giving it to you, our father was telling you about the kind of man he sees in you."_

He still wasn't sure how he felt about that. After all, if he was so much like Anakin, there might be other, less appealing parallels. His father obviously didn't see it that way, but he doubted that Obi Wan would ever have believed Anakin could be capable of committing Vader's atrocities. Still, after hearing Leia put things the way she had, he couldn't bring himself to hand off the lightsaber to their brother. Obi Wan had wanted _him_ to have it. No matter what his reasons were, that was important to Luke. He hoped that his father knew that, but given the way he had acted in the last few years, he couldn't say for sure. He had promised Obi Wan before they left Tatooine that he would take his training as a Jedi more seriously. Instead of doing that, he had essentially abandoned that training in favor of being a pilot--and for no other reason than that he thought Ani was a more capable Jedi than he had the potential to be. That might still be the case, but he was beginning to see that it didn't matter. Being a Jedi should never have been about a competition for accolades and parental approval. Ani hadn't wanted it to be that way, either…

He looked up suddenly, startled out of his thoughts by the approach of a familiar presence. He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised. Han, Leia, Chewie, and the droids had all been in here earlier. As usual, Han and Leia had been bickering--this time over Rieekan's prohibition on extra-system travel until the energy shield could be activated--but the whole group had abruptly been called away. Something was up, and Obi Wan would naturally want him to stay abreast of anything that could potentially threaten the base.

He set the lightsaber on the bed beside him, ran a hand through his hair and straightened his clothes in a half-unconscious attempt to make himself more presentable. As Obi Wan walked in, he realized what a futile gesture that was under the circumstances, and rubbed his eyes. Obi Wan came to stand beside the bed, and he frowned as Luke looked up at him.

"Your eyes bothering you?"

"No, just my ego," he said with a self-deprecating smile.

"Mmm. Well, a bruised ego will heal quickly enough," his father promised.

"I know," he nodded. "So what's going on?"

"We have a visitor outside the base in zone twelve. Han and Chewbacca have gone to check it out, but I have a feeling we may be evacuating before long," explained Obi Wan.

"Blast it," Luke sighed in frustration.

"It's not the first time; it probably won't be the last," Obi Wan said.

"That's what makes it so frustrating--oh, I know, I know. Don't tell me. Trust in the Force."

"All right, I won't tell you," Obi Wan smiled. "There's something else I want to talk about anyway."

"What's that?"

"Your mother said you had a vision out there. Han and Leia said you were going on about Ani and Dagobah when you were delirious," Obi Wan said.

"Yeah…" Luke nodded slowly. "I…wanted to talk to you about that too."

"What happened?" Obi Wan asked.

"Palpatine killed Ani."

"On Dagobah?"

"I don't know for sure. All I have is a feeling. I have to go to Dagobah."

"Luke," Obi Wan said carefully. "You don't know what you really saw. You don't know what it means."

"I know that if I'm not there, Ani will die. Palpatine got between us. He's going to try to keep me from helping Ani."

"So, what do you plan to do? Attach yourself to your brother until whatever it is you saw comes to pass?"

"I'm going to go to Dagobah and finish my Jedi training with Master Yoda. Then I'll be ready--or at least I'll be there to help," Luke said.

"No. Rushing off in haste is not going to help your brother, and it is not the way to enter into training in the Jedi Arts."

"Dad, I'm not asking permission."

Obi Wan pulled back slightly, startled. Then he crossed his arms. "You have duties here."

"Ani is my brother. It's my duty to help him. You would have."

"You can finish your training with me after we evacuate. I want you to."

"I know that. And there's no one I'd rather have teaching me. I'm sorry. This is what I have to do."


	149. The Irresistible Force

Huge chunks of ice toppled from the ceiling of the command center, and Shmi pressed herself further against the wall, doing her best to stay out of the way. She was supposed to have left on one of the first transports, along with her grandmother, the twins, and the rest of the noncombatants on base. Then, a fleet of star destroyers had come out of hyperspace, forcing the pace of the evacuation to be stepped up. Extra troops and fighters had to be mobilized in defense to hold the base _and_ defend the departing ships. In the ensuing confusion, she had slipped back here, determined to do exactly what Han had told her to do yesterday--take care of Leia until he got back from paying off Jabba.

"I don't think we can protect two transports at a time," Rieekan was saying.

"We can't hold out much longer," Obi Wan said. "It's risky, but we have no choice."

Riekaan raised his comlink, speaking into it with a calm that belied the worry Shmi could sense in him. "Launch the patrols."

Leia turned to an aide beside her. "Evacuate the remaining ground st--"

Suddenly, Obi Wan whirled around, and as his sharp eyes picked out Shmi's form in the shadows, she saw real anger in them and in the hard set of his jaw. _"What_ are you doing in here?"

She swallowed hard and stepped forward, realizing too late that she had let her concentration slip too much when the ice started falling. "I'm protecting Aunt Leia."

"Evacuate the remaining ground staff," Leia finished her statement quietly. Then she moved around Obi Wan to pick up the comlink that was on the panel beside him. "Han. I need you in the command center."

Shmi shrank back against the wall, not daring to argue after the expression she had seen on Obi Wan's face. He continued looking at her for a long, tense moment. Then the room shook with the impact of a turbolaser blast. Thick electrical came loose from the ceiling, sending a spray of purple-blue sparks around the room. He and the rest of the command staff were then too busy to  
bother with her after that.

Several of the longest minutes of her life dragged by, with Obi Wan and Leia alternating their attention between the progress of the evacuation and the tactical display of the battle outside, where the Rogues were helping to hold off the advancing Imperial attack force. Vader must be out there somewhere, too, she realized suddenly, and shivered, tears welling up in her eyes. The last time she had seen him, he had saved her life. Was he going to take it now?

_Uncle Anakin?_ she attempted now, impulsively.

The response was startled, angry, with an undertone of surliness. _You should never have been brought here._

Yeah, well, I am _here_, she pointed out, shocked out of her teary state by his brusque reception. _What are you going to do? Come kill me?_

If that is your destiny.

"Jerk," she muttered under her breath.

_I heard that._

Good!

The command center was hit again, and Obi Wan ordered Rieekan and almost everyone else to get to their transports. They went, most of them seeming reluctant to leave, and Rieekan offered to take Shmi with him. She shook her head defiantly and hoped that her grandfather would be too busy to look at her again, because she didn't think she could stare him down.

"Only if you want to carry her biting and kicking the entire way," Obi Wan replied, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "Go. Captain Solo will be here in a moment. He'll get Shmi out on the _Falcon_ if he has to."

"What about you and Princess Leia?"

"We'll be on the last transport," he promised. "Now get out of here!"

"Yes, sir," Rieekan replied, and Shmi detected a faint smile in his voice. He headed for the door, throwing over his shoulder. "May the Force be with you."

He had only been gone for a minute or two when Han came charging through the door. "Are you okay? What's goin' on--_kid!"_

"I was--" she began, but the walls began to shake, and a huge section of ceiling started to cave in around them.

"Leaving!" Han barked, stabbing a finger at the doorway. Shmi scurried toward it, while he clambered further inside after Leia and Obi Wan. "You too."

"You go," Obi Wan said. Shmi turned in the doorway, hovering there as her grandfather shoved Leia toward Han.

"Not without you!" both of them shouted, but Han's hands came up to catch Leia by the shoulders. Their eyes met, and each held the look for a heartbeat then turned their attention back to Obi Wan.

"I'll follow you! Go!" he turned to the control officer, who was also still at his post. "Send all troops in sector twelve to the south slope to protect the fighters."

"Dad!" Leia said urgently.

"Old man, if I gotta shoot you again, I will!"

"You didn't shoot me the last time," Obi Wan said, still not looking at them. "Now, get my family out of here."

"No way," Han shook his head vehemently. "We're all going, or we're all staying."

"That's the Kenobi way," Leia nodded in firm agreement.

Then another blast hit, the room rocked, and Threepio sailed backward. Han shot an arm out to grab him before he clattered to the floor. A moment later, a warning came over the loudspeaker.

"Imperial Troops have entered the building."

"Grandpa!"

"That's it," Han said flatly. "Come on."

"Give the evacuation code signal," Obi Wan told the controller, then he leaned back to grab the comlink that Leia had left on the computer console, finally following Han toward the door. "And get to your transport."

Han reached the door and released Leia's arm. Then he dropped to one knee, gesturing to Shmi as Obi Wan and Leia edged past into the hall. "We gotta move fast," he said, but she was already scrambling onto his back. Then, they all raced through the shaking corridor. Threepio lagged behind, shouting after them.

"Oh! Wait for me!"

Apart from the approaching thunder of laser blasts, the hallway strangely quiet and empty. The only other sounds Shmi heard were the echoes of their own pounding footsteps. Cracks had appeared walls and some pipes had broken, sending hot steam billowing around them. Han kept himself close to Leia, ready to grab her at any second, but Shmi couldn't see her grandfather, who was somewhere ahead of them in the fog.

Suddenly, she screamed as another explosion hit, and the ceiling came crashing down around them. Han grabbed Leia's arm and hurled her toward the wall, then threw himself against it sideways, trying to shield both her and Shmi from the falling debris. Shmi clutched his neck fearfully, tears streaming her face.

"Grandpa!"

"Dad!" Han shoved himself against the fallen chunks of ice now separating them from Obi Wan.

"He's all right," Leia said, though her voice was shaky.

"Everyone all right on that side?" his voice drifted over to them at the same time.

"We're okay!" Han assured him.

"Get them out on the _Falcon,_" Obi Wan directed. "You'll never get through this in time."

"All right. We'll see ya back at the Fleet. Tell Mom not to panic. I'll take care of 'em."

"Well, I might as well tell her not to breathe at this point…"

"Come on, we've got to go!" urged Leia.

"Leia! Remember your training!" Obi Wan called.

"What?"

But there was no answer. Han and Leia looked at one another for a second, then he grabbed her arm again and started running back the way they had come. They passed poor confused Threepio on the way, and he turned in dismay.

"But...but...but...where are you going? Oh...come back!!"

"Aunt Leia, he's here!" Shmi cried.

"Who?"

"Vader! He's here!"

"Why am I not surprised?" Han panted, plowing toward the hangar.

"Wait! Wait for me! Wait! Stop!" Threepio moaned.

They made it through the hangar doors, which slid closed behind them. Threepio, of course, was still on the other side. Growling in exasperation, Han punched the control panel and the door hissed open again. He shoved his arm back through, grabbed the droid and hauled him after them. They hurtled toward the _Falcon_, where Chewie was still pacing and peering toward the hall for them. He let out a howl when he saw them and charged up the ramp. Han and Leia clanged up after him, Threepio tottering on their heels.

"Hurry up, goldenrod, or you'll be a permanent resident!"

"Wait! Wait!"

Once they were inside, Chewie barked that they still had a problem. Shmi let go of Han's neck, sliding to the ground. She didn't wait to find out what the current malfunction was but ran for the cockpit and started the pre-launch check. Behind her, she could hear Han and Chewie frantically working and talking in loud voices edged with desperation.

" How's this?" asked Han.

Chewie gave him a no go.

"Would it help if I got out and pushed?" Leia quipped.

"It might," Han replied.

"Captain Solo, Captain Solo...sir, might I suggest that you...it can wait," Threepio finished. Shmi shook her head and snickered quietly. Han and Leia rushed into the cockpit, and Shmi slid back, allowing him access to the controls. He flipped switches, trying to re-route power to the sublight engines through an auxiliary system, but the ship remained stubbornly on the ground. Leia looked on impatiently.

"This bucket of bolts is never going to get us past the blockade."

"She's done it before!" Shmi reminded her hotly.

Han smirked. "This baby's still got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart!"

Through the cockpit window, Shmi could see a squad of stormtroopers move into the hangar and start setting up a laser cannon. She didn't recognize the design, but under the circumstances she didn't think it would be appropriate to ask Han what they were using. He swung himself into the pilot's seat and strapped in, while Leia took the navigator's chair. For a second, Shmi glanced at the co-pilot's seat, but she knew that Chewie would be in here any moment now. Silently, she spun around and raced back to the lounge, where she threw herself onto the couch and strapped in.

Chewie barreled past her, and a few moments later, she heard the first stages of engine fire. With a smug grin, she reached behind her and patted the wall of the hold. "That's our girl. Now just get us past the blockade and make it into hyperspace…"

_You cannot hide from me forever, Shmi._

She rolled her eyes and pressed a hand to her forehead. _I'm not the one hiding, Uncle Anakin._

You are beginning to sound like your father, he snarled derisively.

_And that's a bad thing?_

It will be soon, little one. You would do well to come with me now.

I don't think Han and Leia are going to go for that.

Perhaps I will persuade them with my lightsaber.

Only if you want to have to carry me biting and kicking all the way to your Emperor.

That might be amusing if you could find a place to attach your teeth.

Okay, so I'll settle for kicking. You are still all in there, aren't you? she asked.

_You have been spending too much time with Han Solo, insolent girl._

There's no such thing. Ever. 


	150. The Immovable Object

From his vantage on the south slope, Luke saw the _Millenium Falcon_ blast out of the hangar and head toward the horizon, flying very low to the ground. He breathed a sigh of relief, sure now that his sister was safe. He turned and bid a quick farewell to the two men beside him then trotted toward his waiting X-Wing. Artoo chirped an excited greeting as he climbed into the ship.

"Artoo!" he called. "Get her ready for take off."

Wedge was already in the cockpit of the fighter beside his, preparing for his own lift off. The two friends looked at one another across their spacecraft, as they had many times before, and only Luke realized that this time would be different. He felt a twinge of guilt at not having told Wedge he was leaving. The truth was that his friend deserved to know. The problem was that his decision was based on feelings that he only half understood. Part of him wondered if Obi Wan had been right, that by rushing off this way he would probably make things worse for Ani. No matter what he feared, though, he couldn't shake the certain knowledge that if his brother was to face Palpatine alone, he would die. He had always thought of Ani as the better Jedi, but that didn't matter anymore. It had been _his_ vision, and the Force was pulling him now, inexorably, toward Dagobah and his brother. No one else could do this. No one else could stop what was coming.

"Good luck, Luke. See you at the rendezvous," Wedge said.

Unsure what to say in reply, he smiled and nodded. Then he lowered himself into the cockpit while Artoo beeped at him in agitation. He held back an amused smile.

"Don't worry, Artoo. We're going, we're going."

The canopy snapped shut, and in another moment, the fighter shot toward the stars. Artoo had already laid in a course that would bring them to the rendezvous point, but he cancelled it, punching in new coordinates. The droid tootled a question at him.

"There's nothing wrong, Artoo. I'm just setting a new course," he said.

Artoo beeped again, asking about the scheduled rendezvous.

"We're not going to regroup with the others."

Artoo whistled a loud protest, and Luke glanced at the translator. "WHAT?!"

"We're going to the Dagobah system," he said calmly.

Artoo hooted softly, an almost human sounding "Oh…" then he whistled again, more urgently as a new possibility occurred to him.

"There's nothing wrong with Ani," Luke assured him. "At least not yet…"

Artoo wanted to know why they were going then.

"Well, we're just going to make sure it stays that way," Luke told him.

-------

As soon as they had cleared the atmosphere, Shmi snapped off her restraints and ran back to the cockpit. She grabbed the doorway to steady herself as the ship was buffeted by exploding flak. Chewie howled urgently.

"I saw them! I saw them!" replied Han in a harried tone. He looked like he was trying to do six things at once already, and the last thing he needed was Imps on their tail.

"Saw what?" Leia demanded.

"Star Destroyers. Two of them, coming right at us," Han replied.

"Oh--pardon me, Mistress Shmi," apologized Threepio as he fumbled past her, bumbling and banging his way into the cockpit. "Sir! Sir! Might I suggest--"

"Shut him up or shut him down!" Han shouted at Leia. "Chewie, check the deflector shields."

Chewie flipped the overhead deflector controls but shook his head. They were still down.

"Oh, great. Well, we can still outmaneuver them!"

Shmi stretched out her other arm, taking a firm grip on both sides of the doorway. Then she spread her feet apart, bracing them against it as well. When Han talked about outmaneuvering Star Destroyers, the safest option was to strap in and assume crash position. She didn't have time for that. Trying to make it back to her seat would probably result in an unexpectedly clean, Shmi-shaped streak on the floor, stretching from one end of the hold to the other. Even if she managed to avoid banging her head on the far wall, the loss of skin would be far from pleasant.

The _Falcon_ rushed toward one of the oncoming monsters then suddenly dropped into a steep dive. Shmi knew that it was coming, but she was still jerked forward. She lost her grip on the doorframe and fell forward, instinctively calling on the Force to cushion the impact and keep her from landing on her nose.

"You okay, kid?" Han called over his shoulder.

"Yeah!" she nodded, shoving herself to her knees. She felt her aunt's hand on her back and let Leia help her back to her feet again. They moved back to the navigator's chair where Leia had been sitting, and Leia strapped Shmi into it, standing with one arm against it to keep herself steady.

"Prepare to make the jump to light-speed!" Han ordered.

"But, sir--!" protested Threepio.

The ship was being buffeted by blaster fire, which was rapidly growing louder and more intense. Leia and Shmi exchanged worried glances. She thought briefly about trying to talk Vader out of squishing them, but then she realized that he was probably not going to respond well to an attempt at cute helplessness from her right now.

"Me and my big mouth," she muttered.

"They're getting closer!" Leia cried.

"Oh yeah? Watch this!" Han said smugly.

They turned expectantly toward the cockpit window, waiting for the stars to turn from pinhole lights to a tunnel of white streaks. And waited. Nothing.

"Watch what?" Leia asked.

Shmi gave the ship a swift kick. "C'mon!"

"I think we're in trouble," Han said nervously.

"If I might say so sir, I noticed earlier that the hyperdrive motivator has been damaged. It's impossible to go to light-speed," Threepio piped up.

"Well, why didn't you say so?" demanded Shmi.

"We're in trouble!" Han declared.

------  
The X-Wing veered toward the gleaming blue-and white, cloud-filled sphere of Dagobah, and Luke lifted his chin from his fist. His stomach clenched. He hadn't actually spoken to his brother since Ani and Isaly had returned here, and he wondered what sort of reception he was about to receive. He and Ani hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms. That might not have bothered him, except that they had always been the rare sort of brothers who hardly ever had a serious quarrel. There was some good-natured rivalry between them, but not to the extent that it had ever descended into bitter conflict and resentment. Some of his friends had either been regularly abused by older brothers or been the dictatorial tormentors of younger siblings--locking them in closets, using them as live tackle-dummies or test-subjects for wrestling holds--all of which was explained to him as the perfectly ordinary type of cruelty that took place among average families. The pain faded, and in most cases, the resentments died away as the children grew older and learned to appreciate the value of a sibling bond. He supposed he had been quite fortunate. Not only had Ani never taken a hand to him, he had willingly chosen to shoulder responsibilities that should have been Luke's. Most older brothers who didn't (or couldn't) shirk their own chores off on younger sibs seemed to think that they had been the only responsibly-inclined offspring in the house, and they usually complained of having been subject to stricter rules than the others; being made to take the blame for the others' misdeeds; used as permanent free baby-sitters; or all-manner of gross parental injustice. Neither Luke nor Ani was particularly inclined toward trouble-making, but on the few occasions when one brother had been caught in something, the other had instantly claimed participation and borne punishment alongside him. Their parents probably knew all along which brother was actually guilty of wrongdoing, but for reasons Luke didn't quite grasp, they had never made an issue of ferreting out the real culprit in order to spare the other. Ani had seldom taken interest in things which would have brought him off the farm, so Luke didn't know if he would have resented the constant presence of a younger brother if he'd had more of his own social activities. As it was, he'd never complained or groused about having to look after Luke, and when Luke himself grew old enough to spend time away from the farm, it was Ani he tended to look to for rides or cover-stories. Again, Ani had never seemed to object.

Given all of that, being at odds with Ani now seemed uncomfortable and stifling: like a uniform collar that was too small and buttoned so far up his neck that it squeezed his adam's apple and made it impossible to take a deep breath. Suddenly it was even more restrictive than it had been. Realizing that he was here brought home the fact that he had no idea how to mend the damage he'd done when Ani left. He'd been angry--rightly so, at least to some degree, but he knew that he should not have taken that anger out on his brother. It wasn't Ani's fault that Vader wanted to pit him in the middle of a conflict been himself and Obi Wan. In fact, if he had stopped to think about it, he would have realized how horrendously difficult the situation must be for someone like Ani, whose particular strength in the Force was tied to empathy. Ani felt everyone's suffering as his own--it was why he was always so impossible to argue with. By nature, he saw everyone else's side of a disagreement as clearly as his own.

_Well,_ he decided with a rueful sigh, _at least that means he's probably going to accept my apology._

Artoo tootled a question at him, and he glanced at the scope.

"Yes, that's it. Dagobah."

The droid beeped and twittered again.

"Well, I don't know," said Luke. "I hope they'll be glad to see us. Ani said they were living in a swamp, but I figured there'd be some sign of civilization. I'm not picking up any cities or technology. Massive lifeform readings, though."

Artoo's next question was high-pitched and worried.

Luke smiled. "Yes, I'm sure it's perfectly safe for droids."

The X-wing continued its flight through the twilight above the cloud-covered planet, penetrating the atmosphere with the casual precision that could only be exercised by an accomplished pilot. The thick white clouds seemed to rush toward the craft, completely enveloping it within seconds. Luke began to sweat as his hands moved over the fighter's controls, guiding the ship by instinct alone. Artoo whistled frantically.

"I know, I know!" he replied. "All the scopes are dead. I can't see a thing. Just hang on. I'm gonna start the landing cycle."

The deafening blast of the retrorockets drowned out the rest of the droid's electronic squeals. Then, he heard a tremendous series of cracking sounds, as if limbs were being broken off trees, and the ship jolted to a hard stop. Taking a breath, he released the hatch, and his canopy popped open. With one sight, he suddenly understood why his father thought flying was for droids. The ship was half-submerged in…mud? He couldn't quite tell. Thick fog permeated everything, obscuring his vision.

He raised a hand to his face, then began muttering to himself as he rehearsed the meeting he was sure he'd now have with his older brother. "Oh, hi, Ani. How are you? My ship? Oh, it's back there somewhere…I don't know what it's in. Mud I think. Can't really see. I know, I know. Your senses can deceive you. Don't trust them…" 


	151. De Profundis

This chapter may or may not contain MASSIVE SPOILERS for the One Path sequel series, The Kenobi Way. Always in motion is the future...

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_"Why am I the one who has to stand here with my arm in the air?" demanded Obi Wan. _

"Because it looks good?" Anakin replied with an air of excessive patience.

"Well, why aren't you doing it then?"

"Obi Wan. I'm already taller than you. If I pose like that, it's going to dominate the whole painting. Besides, you're his father. You should be the one doing something like that," Anakin told him.

"What does my being his father have to do with anything?" Obi Wan asked, faintly exasperated.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Anakin take his left hand off of the lightsaber he was holding, reach up and pinch the bridge of his nose. Then the Padawan gave his head a shake. "Just trust me."

"Trust you."

"Yes."

"Hold still, please," the painter interrupted their banter.

"Sorry," apologized Anakin, quickly moving his hand back to the hilt of his ignited weapon.

"Trusting you is what got me into this in the first place. My arm is falling asleep," complained Obi Wan.

"Think of it as a meditation exercise," Anakin suggested.

"I don't meditate with my arm in the air. This is ridiculous. I don't know why I let you talk me into something like this," Obi Wan grumbled.

"It's for Ani," Anakin said, as if that should explain everything. He supposed it did. So he stood there, back to back with Anakin, lightsaber in one hand while his other arm was outstretched in something that could either have been an attempt at Force Push or a very combat stance; he wasn't quite sure which. The painting had actually been Bail Organa's idea; a birthday gift for little Ani, which he'd commissioned with a noted Alderaanian artist at what Obi Wan felt was a absurdly inflated price. It had taken no small amount of finagling to get him and Anakin off the front lines to pose for it, and Obi Wan hadn't been convinced such a thing was appropriate--Anakin, of course, disagreed, and here they were…

Bail stepped through the arched doorway, cutting off his thoughts, and Obi Wan resisted the urge to sigh at the satisfied little smile on the Senator's lips. Bail stroked his beard thoughtfully and began to circle the posing pair. He made two circuits, then he walked over to see what his over-priced artist was sketching.

"It seems to be coming along well," he remarked.

"Good. May I put my arm down now?" Obi Wan asked.

"No," all three of them told him.

He sighed.

"It would help if they would shut up for five seconds, my Lord," the painter told Bail with no small amount of annoyance.

"I asked you to paint them," replied Bail with a shrug. "It's a well-established fact that even the Jedi Council can't manage to shut them up."

"What?" exclaimed Anakin.

"Oh, that's very funny, Bail," Obi Wan rolled his eyes.

He smiled broadly. "I'm here on a mission from your wife, General Kenobi."

"Oh, what mission is that?"

"I'm to tell you to stop fussing with that painting and come in the kitchen," Bail replied.

"Why? Everyone's not here yet," Obi Wan said.

"Mine is not to question," Bail shrugged.

"Well, come on, I'm hungry," Anakin said with an abrupt air of decision. He thumbed off his lightsaber and re-attached it to his belt, then walked off through the doorway, leaving the already flustered painter sputtering after him. Obi Wan turned in surprise, his mouth popping open.

"Anakin!" he called. "We're not done with this! Anakin!"

There was no response, and he gave a thoroughly exasperated sigh, deactivated his own lightsaber, and stomped out of the room after his former apprentice. As soon as he passed through the arch, he found himself in Ani's room on Naboo. Toys were scattered on the floor, and a half-finished game sat abandoned on the child-sized desk, which told him that Ani and his cousins couldn't be far off. Big Anakin was standing on the unmade bed, holding up the half-hung painting. He turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Come help me with this, will you?"

"What are you doing? I thought we were going to give it to him when Bail got here!" Obi Wan rubbed his eyes.

"We are," Anakin replied. "All three of us will walk him in here."

"With his eyes closed, I suppose," Obi Wan said.

"Of course."

"Oh yes. How else?"

"Come hold it up," urged Anakin.

Shaking his head, Obi Wan walked over to the bed and climbed up beside his friend, carefully placing his hands beside the Jedi Knight's. Once he was sure that Obi Wan had the painting, Anakin let his arms fall to his sides. Then he cocked his head and pushed out his bottom lip. Obi Wan turned his head.

"What?"

"Bring it lower."

"Lower?"

"Just a little lower."

"I think it needs to be higher."

Anakin cocked his head the other way. "Higher?"

"Higher."

"He's only two, Obi Wan."

"So?"

"He's shorter than we are. It'll look higher to him than it does to us," said Anakin.

"Anakin, don't be ridiculous! It needs to be higher!"

"I'm not being ridiculous! I'm being considerate! He's a little boy!"

"You are being ridiculous. I'm shorter than you, and it doesn't look higher to me than it does to you!" Obi Wan pointed out.

"Yes, but you're standing on a big pile of pillows, blankets, and toys. It's making you taller than usual. That's why you think it's not high enough," explained Anakin.

"It is not--" began Obi Wan.

"Anakin! Obi Wan!" Padme's voice interrupted from the kitchen. "Didn't I tell you two to stop fussing with the painting?"

"Yes," he sighed, turning automatically toward the sound of her voice. "Yes, darling, we'll be right in."

"Hurry up, will you?" another voice called.

They shook their heads and hurriedly finished hanging the painting. Then they walked into the familiar, softly lit living room, where Anakin was immediately assaulted by a pair of small, blonde-haired, screaming monsters who attached themselves to either side of the beleaguered Jedi, demanding rides. Laughing, he held his arms out to his sides and waited for them to jump up, grabbing his forearms with both of their smaller hands.

"Why don't you ever ask your grandpa for rides?" he asked, moving his arms up and down like pistons, one after the other.  
"You give better rides, Uncle!" Obi-Too told him, while Junior nodded in vigorous agreement.

Obi Wan laughed, "Far be it from me to usurp your position as the official ride-giver."

Anakin pulled the twins up and down on his arms for a few more minutes, until Ani's head popped through the open doorway that lead into the kitchen. A brightly colored banner hung over the doorframe above him which said cheerfully, "Happy Birthday Ani, Luke, and Leia.

Ani's lips quirked upward in a slow smile, and he chuckled at the sight of Anakin with his two sons. Then he shook his head. "Put them down, Uncle. You're gonna get them all riled up."

"I think it's a bit late," Obi Wan remarked.

Obligingly, Anakin set the boys on their feet. He gave each of their backsides a light swat, sending them toward the kitchen, and they thundered off, still screaming at the top of their lungs. Then, he slipped his arm companionably around Obi Wan's shoulders, and the two men strolled casually into the kitchen themselves. Ani was leaning against the inside of the doorframe as they came in, a plate in one hand, and the sole of his boot resting lightly on the molding behind him. He was older than he had been a moment ago, with a streak of gray now stretching back from his each of his temples, and fine lines about his eyes, but this seemed perfectly natural to Obi Wan. Anakin plucked a handful of the fruit-slices off of Ani's plate and popped them into his mouth with a dissatisfied sigh.

"Padme, when's dinner?" he asked.

"I wish you'd all stop snacking," Padme sighed from the counter, where she, Sola, Isaly, and Mara were putting the finishing touches on a cake that none of them were going to be allowed to eat for at least an hour.

"Come on, Grandma, we're hungry!" grinned Jacen from the table—which was actually a pair of semicircular trestle tables with long benches, all pushed together to form a round dining table that was barely enough to seat everyone at once on a day like this. "We're growing boys."

"The only way your grandfather or Uncle Anakin is growing is out," Padme retorted.

"You won't be much far behind them if you keep it up," added Jaina.

Jacen only shook his head and went back to trying to coax a laugh out of Tenel Ka, who was seated beside him. Shmi's son, Owen, was perched on his knee, and for the benefit of the boy, he was recounting the story of how Shmi had once purposely dropped a wrench on the foot of Prince Isolder.

"Don't encourage him, Jacen," Leia said in a mildly annoyed tone from where she stood by the windows. Luke and Mara's twin girls were with her, and Leia was using Beru to demonstrate one of her elaborate braided hairstyles for Lila. Beru, who was about as tomboyish as Leia had been at the age of ten, was far from happy at being conscripted for such an activity, but she bore it with tolerably good grace--probably because Mara was only a few feet away.

"What do you mean, Mom? I'm just telling a story!"

"I don't want any more heavy objects dropped on our Hapan allies," Leia told him.

"There are worse things Owen could do," grinned Luke, who was leaning on the wall beside his daughters. The wrench-dropping episode was only the first in a series of mishaps that befell the unsuspecting Isolder at Shmi's hands. Beru and Lila, who knew the story of that abortive attempt at courtship quite well, both giggled rather wickedly, and their father winked.

"Watch it, farmboy," Mara called over to them. "You keep that up and you'll have no one to blame for your own headache in a few years."

Leia rubbed her eyes with the tips of her fingers. "Look, will someone go see what Shmi, Han, and Chewie are doing? I told them to come in fifteen minutes ago!"

"They're probably plotting to fix the elections," Bail spoke up.

"Shmi, maybe," Ani said. "I doubt Han and Chewie care one way or another."

"Oh, she'll rope them in. She always does," Jaina grinned. Then she grabbed Zekk's arm and hauled him off with her to find her missing father, cousin, and friend.

Suddenly, the back door burst open to admit another pair of late-comers. These two were panting and out of breath, apparently having just raced one another through the garden. Anakin Solo, who had been slightly in the lead as they came inside, half-collapsed down at the beside Jacen, while Jareth flung himself onto the chair across from his erstwhile rival. Tahiri Veila followed the runners inside at a more leisurely pace and walked over to the table as well. There she wedged herself between young Anakin and Jacen, claiming a spot for herself before the rest of the clan decided to come start staking out territory.

"You gotta stop trying to race these kids, Jareth. You're not as young as you used to be, you know," Ani spoke up, eliciting an amused snort from little Owen.

"I'll keep that in mind, Master," Jareth laughed.

"Grandma!" his grinning race partner called over to Padme. "Is dinner ready?"  
"Yes," Padme replied. "But nobody is eating until Pooja and Lando show up."

"What?" Obi wan complained. "Then why did you make Anakin and I come in already?"

"Because if I hadn't, the two of you would have stood there looking at that painting and trading old war stories and forgotten all about the kids' birthday," she told him.

Obi Wan flicked a glance at Anakin, who looked back with only the slightest of smiles. The truth was that she was probably right, but neither one of them was going to admit it. They turned back to her, both now contriving to look offended.

"We would not!"

"Right," she shook her head, unconvinced.

"Well, where are they, then?" Obi Wan asked, knowing better than to press the subject.

"Ryoo and Talon went to meet them at the landing platform," she said.

"Marvelous. We won't eat for another four hours with Calrissian and Karrde together," Obi Wan grumbled.

"Oh, I think Pooja and Ryoo can handle those two," Sola promised.

"Well, let's hope so," Obi Wan said.

"Dad," Leia spoke up with a slight chuckle at her father's obvious discomfiture.

"What?" he turned toward her, and she gestured to the window that she and the girls were standing near.

"Come see. Uncle Anakin, you too."

"I'm not entirely sure I want to," Obi Wan remarked, but he and Anakin both moved to the window. In the yard beyond it, Obi-Too and Junior stood with lightsabers in hand. The shimmering blue form of Qui-Gon Jinn watched over them as they saluted one another and then began to walk in wary circles. Surprisingly, it was Obi-Too who struck first, forcing Junior to take the defensive. Obi Wan raised an eyebrow at that and flicked a glance toward Leia, who frowned slightly. The mock battle progressed into a rather astonishing series of fast, powerful overhand chops from the elder brother, not at all what their grandfather was expecting. Junior was ready for them, though. In fact, he met each blow with an equally powerful block, his blue blade flashing back and forth to intercept his brother's green one with the uncanny precision that could only be accomplished by someone who had the kind of twin-bond that these two shared. Suddenly, Junior's foot shot out and swept his brother off his feet.

"That's our boy," Anakin laughed, shooting a smug look at Obi Wan.

"Listen," Leia huffed at him. "Obi-Too is not out of this yet."

Ani and Isaly came over to the window at that remark, with Mara and Luke moving in curiously after them. The grandchildren and their friends began to filter in behind them, all vying for space to watch the duel. Padme and Sola slipped through to the front of the group just as Junior reached down to pull Obi-Too off the ground. As the brothers prepared to start again, a group of newcomers drifted toward them, coming in from the back yard. Han and Chewie opted to stay out of the game and leaned casually against a tree to watch. Shmi exchanged a glance with Jaina, then shot another toward Kyp Durron. Both nodded slightly, and Jaina turned to Zekk. Then, all four of them spread out, circling Obi-Too and Junior as their lightsabers all snapped into their hands.

"We've gotta get in on this," Jacen said to his brother, when a baby began to cry from one of the bedrooms.

"I have a better idea," Mara told him. "Go make yourself useful and pick Ben up out of that crib."

He sighed good naturedly and slid through the gathered crowd to fetch his youngest cousin, with the rest of the group laughing in his wake. By the time he got back with the baby, the circle was complete. Blades flowed to life in elegant panoply of purple, blue, magenta, and green. The twins didn't bother to exchange glances at all but simply moved back to back with a silent, casual ease that went beyond the benefit of all their years as partners. They waited, and Obi Wan and Anakin smiled knowingly—

Until the world came crashing in. Obi Wan Kenobi sat up with a start. He was out of bed and pulling on his robe before he had even quite realized where he was. The Fleet. Echo Base had been evacuated. Han, Leia, Shmi, and Luke still hadn't made it in—and that horrible noise was coming from his grandsons' room… 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit:

I tried really hard to make this not confusing. Two people read it, one of whom hasn't read any of the preceding 50 chapters. Both of them had no trouble following along, but since questions have started coming in over PMs and email already, I'm sensing that clarification is in order.

The dream starts out during the Clone Wars. Anakin Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi are standing together. They walk from room to room together. Anakin continues to be standing with Obi Wan as they progress through different stages of Obi Wan's life, most of which Anakin S. did not witness because he had already fallen to the Dark Side. He is referred to several times as "Uncle". Ani Kenobi is referred to as "Ani". As usual, Ani's sons are referred to as "Obi-Too" and "Junior." The ONLY PERSON ever called ANAKIN other than Anakin Skywalker is ANAKIN SOLO, who is STRICTLY is referred to by his full name--ANAKIN SOLO--at least in this scene. Obi-Too is ALWAYS "Obi-Too" and Junior is ALWAYS "Junior." Ani Kenobi is the ONLY PERSON ever called "ANI" in One Path from the time he's born to now.

"Obi Wan"--Duh.  
"Uncle Anakin"--Anakin Skywalker.  
"Ani"--Ani Kenobi  
"Junior"--Anakin Kenobi Junior.  
"Obi-Too"--Obi-Wan Kenobi (II)  
"Anakin Solo"--Anakin Solo.

I'm sorry this seems to be so problematic for some readers. In my family we had like, a William, a Bill, and a Billy; a Bob and a Robbie; two Tommys; two Eddies; two Walters; two Veronicas; three Annes, and I don't even know how many Johns, Richards, and Davids. I guess that in my head it makes sense that names get repeated through generations of a family and that family members differentiate between individuals with the same name by giving nicknames or saying things like "Uncle" or "Big" and "Little" so and so. Believe it or not I have tried to keep this to a minimum in One Path and gone to some length to make it obvious which person I'm talking about, consistently using the nicknames and only having ONE person with a particular nickname attached. I really didn't think that anyone would have a problem differentiating between someone called "Obi-Too" and someone called "Obi Wan", or picking up on the fact that "Ani" refers to Ani Kenobi while "Uncle" or "Anakin" refers to Skywalker, let alone anyone confusing either of them with someone called "Junior" from infancy. Anyway, I hope this can clear up the confusion, since Obi-Too and Junior, at least, are going to continue to be around in One Path, even if we don't see Anakin Solo again until the sequel, since the story ends with Return of the Jedi. (By the time Anakin Solo is born in the sequel, we will work in a way of differentiating him from Uncle Anakin even more.)

Other points of interest:

Beru Kenobi--Luke and Mara's daughter.  
Lila Kenobi--Luke and Mara's other daughter.  
(yes, they're twins)  
Ben Kenobi--Luke and Mara's son (the analog to Ben Skywalker in the EU, for those still following along)  
Owen Kenobi--Shmi Kenobi's son. (No, I'm not telling you who the father is.)  
Tenel Ka--Tenel Ka Djo. Family friend of the Kenobis; Member of the New Jedi Order (The analog of the EU character by the same name)  
Zekk--Family friend of the Kenobis; Member of the New Jedi Order (The analog of the EU character by the same name)  
Jaina Solo--Han and Leia's daughter (The analog of the EU character by the same name)  
Jacen Solo--Han and Leia's oldest son. (The analog of the EU character by the same name)Kyp Durron--Family friend of the Kenobis; Member of the New Jedi Order (The analog of the EU character by the same name)  
Tahiri Veila--Family friend of the Kenobis; Member of the New Jedi Order (The analog of the EU character by the same name)

Hopefully, we are all on the same page now and no one's brain is broken, Sarah. lol.


	152. Politics and Family

Leia looked on worriedly as Han and Chewie worked to shut down the ship's systems. She still couldn't quite believe where they were--hiding from the Empire _inside_ a giant asteroid. She supposed that it should have surprised her. Han was famous for pulling stunts like this, and somehow, against all odds, they usually succeeded. Even when they didn't--or at least didn't go the way he had intended--he still managed to get them out with their lives.

"I'm going to shut down everything but the emergency power systems," he said now.  
"Sir, I'm almost afraid to ask, but...does that include shutting me down, too?" Threepio asked nervously Chewie gave an affirmative bark, but Han thought otherwise. "No, I need you to talk to the _Falcon,_ find out what's wrong with the hyperdrive," he told the droid.

Suddenly, the ship lurched, and all the loose objects in the cockpit went flying. Chewie howled in alarm. Shmi tightened her grip on the navigator's console.

"That doesn't feel like a good thing, Han," she remarked.

He rolled his eyes. "Ya think?"

"Sir, it's quite possible this asteroid is not entirely stable," observed Threepio. "Not entirely stable? I'm glad you're here to tell us these things!" Han exclaimed in exasperation. "Chewie, take the professor in the back and plug him into the hyperdrive."

"Oh! Sometimes I just don't understand human behavior. After all, I'm only trying to do my job in the most..." Threepio complained as Chewie hustled him off. The door slid closed behind them, cutting off whatever else the droid was going to say.

Then, abruptly, the ship lurched again-- this time throwing Leia across the cabin into Han's arms. They staggered back into a chair. The motion stopped as suddenly as it started, and she became aware of his lean, hard form pressed against her back, the strength of his arms around her.

"Let go," she said weakly, her eyes moving toward her niece, who was looking on with an amused expression.

"Shh."

"Let go, _please_," she said, but she still wasn't pulling away. She realized that she didn't want to, even if he still hadn't apologized, still refused to let her go with him to pay off Jabba, still--

"Don't get excited," he said mockingly.

The glow of warmth in her cheeks faded away, replaced by icy anger. "Captain, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he smirked, lifting her to her feet. Then his voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I don't have time for anything else. Besides, the kid's watchin'."

With that, he slipped through the door, throwing a grin over his shoulder. Leia's mouth popped open in impotent fury. Unconsciously, she clenched her fist, but there was nothing to hit--and Shmi was still watching. Anything visible reaction she made was going to go straight back to Han. Drawing herself up with dignity, she slipped into the pilot's chair, and tried very hard not to think about throttling Han--or about the fact that he had just been sitting here.

"Are you okay?" Shmi asked softly.

"Yes," she replied automatically.

The girl slid to her feet and moved to Leia's side with a quiet sympathy that surprised her. She turned as her niece's small hand slid down to cover hers. Leia lowered her gaze, focusing on their hands as she felt her emotions surge uncomfortably toward the surface. Still not speaking, Shmi sighed and slid onto her lap.

"It's the way things are on Tatooine," she said softly. "Jabba's in charge there. A guy like Han can't go marching into Jabba's palace with a bunch of armed guards. Specially not if they're packing lightsabers. He owes Jabba money. Even if that's not what we are, that's how it would look. There's politics in smuggling too. Just a different kind. "

Leia sighed and rested her chin on the girl's head, slipping her arms around her. "It's not that simple."

"Not as complicated as you two have to make it, either."

------ 

Obi-Too and Junior had decided to make a present for their Uncle Bail. The idea had actually come from a conversation that they'd overheard between Wedge and Hobbie the night that their Uncle Luke had gone missing on Hoth. No one had been paying particular attention to them or Shmi that night, and all three of the Kenobi children liked being around the Rogues. The pilots accepted their presence among them as long as they didn't make very big nuisances of themselves, so they were often party to rumors and other information that no one particularly realized they understood. In this particular case, Wedge had commented that Bail deserved a medal for his enduring and sometimes thankless friendship with the Kenobis. The twins had learned that, while most of the Rebels respected and admired their grandfather, Bail was the one that they really seemed to like. Some of them--though not among the members of Rogue Group--even felt that he had gotten a "raw deal" when they learned who Princess Leia really was.

They had always sensed that medals were a big deal in the Rebel Alliance. The people who had them were especially brave and had usually done something important against the Empire. Bail certainly fit both of those categories. Like Anakin Skywalker, he had saved their father's life on the night of the temple siege. After that, he had helped the Kenobis and Master Yoda go into hiding, then he spent years secretly building the opposition to Emperor Palpatine. Others had helped, of course, including Mon Mothma and Garm Bel Iblis, but none of those people had taken in a Kenobi child and raised her as the heir to his family title, and none of them had lost an _entire planet_ as the price of their involvement in the Rebellion.

Shmi had explained that medals were important because they told everyone how valuable the people who got them were. This seemed perfectly reasonable to the twins. No one could say that Bail was not important to the Kenobis if he had a medal. Perhaps, they decided, the medal could even prove that he was one of them, just like Han or the Rogues. Shmi had agreed with this plan, and she had pointed out that Han had even once been given a medal by their Aunt Leia. So, all three of them had seized on the idea, but the evacuation had halted their plans.

They were rather used to this sort of thing. The war was always interrupting things for the Kenobi kids, always sending Shmi off on important missions with Han and Chewie while the twins had to stay behind to protect their grandparents. Now they were back at the Fleet, but Shmi and Han still hadn't turned up. The boys weren't particularly concerned about their sister. No one else was worried about Han or Leia yet--except for Padme, who naturally worried about everybody--and Shmi was always getting in messes with Han. They usually got out of them again in a few days, especially if Leia was with them, and if anything went seriously wrong, Luke and Obi Wan knew right away. Granted, Luke wasn't back either, but Obi Wan had explained to the Rogues that he had gone to Dagobah in order to check on the rest of the family. No matter where he was, he would know if anything was the matter with Leia, and he would go to her.

Their main problem at the moment was the fact that the project would have to be completed without Shmi, since they had no idea how long it might take the _Falcon_ to make it in. The ship hadn't been in good shape before the evacuation, and Vader had blockaded Hoth to keep people from leaving. The Falcon broke lots of Imperial blockades, but it tended to get shot up in the process, especially if Vader was around. Everyone had assumed that the hyperdrive was down again and that Han had found a safe port someplace in order to fix everything and wait out the Empire. Obi Wan said that it was too early to mount a search because doing so might actually draw attention that Han didn't want if he was hiding. So, for all the boys knew, it could be weeks before their sister returned. They didn't want to wait that long.

Obi-Too had been the one to come up with the idea of including a message, but he hadn't exactly known how to accomplish that. Junior had remembered helping Luke repair Artoo's internal holoprojector before the evacuation, and he had suggested that they find a way to encase a holoprojector inside the medal which could be activated by pressing a button in the middle of it. The Rebellion had no shortage of damaged droids, and people were used to seeing the Kenobi kids carting electronic components in an antigrav sled for Han—who would even sometimes flip the twins a credit or two for their efforts. Lately, they had taken to their own construction projects, so no one was particularly inclined to ask what they were doing if they were spotted scavenging repair bays or cavorting through the halls with a sled full of junk. Without Threepio to nag them, it was fairly easy to sneak out while their grandparents were in meetings or asleep.

Now, their bedroom resembled the inside of a ship left derelict after a battle, with various droid components, lengths of wiring, casings, and tools all strewn about with no thought to organization or ease of reach. The twins didn't usually need speech in order to communicate, and when they did, a word or two was enough for one to tell the other what he needed. If the item in question wasn't apparent, a flurry of rearranging began, and items were quickly tossed from one pile to another until one of them found what they were looking for.

At the moment, Obi-Too was upside down in a pile of astromech innards with the gutted casings of the three droids they had torn apart to scavenge ranged about him like bizarre sentries. He was mumbling and grunting to himself, mostly with exertion, but Junior was too busy to help his twin, having just lost his footing atop the three-tiered shelf that he'd been standing on. Unconsciously, he reached out to the Force and flung himself away from it, landing heavily on the bunk that extended from the wall on the opposite side of the room. Unfortunately, the stress of the impact was simply too much for the overburdened bed, which was already piled high with suitcases still not unpacked from the evacuation, toys, and a half-finished 2-1B med droid that he had recently taken a notion to build for his mother. The hinges gave a loud, desperate groan, and the entire thing collapsed just as Obi-Too surged up out of the droid parts, sending a new clatter of parts in every direction.

"I got it--Junior!" he shoved himself off the ground and raced over to the displaced bed, leaping onto it to help his brother up.

"M'okay, m'okay!" Junior insisted, trying to pull away.

It was then that Obi Wan walked into the room, and both twins turned wide grins on their grandfather. "Hi, G'apa! Nice nap?"

Obi Wan stared at them, not replying for several seconds. Then his mouth began to open and close in soundless disbelief. That was their first indication that they might be in serious trouble. They turned back to one another, sighed, and assumed appropriately sorrowful expressions. Then they trooped down off the bed and presented themselves to him, offering small, hopeful smiles.

"Obi-Wan. Anakin," he began, which made them a bit less optimistic. Most people only ever called them by their real names when they were about to be punished. Their grandfather tended to do so more often, mainly because Obi-Too's nickname still made him slightly grumpy, but even he had started to accept it lately. "What is this mess?"

"Mess?" Junior asked.

"Yes. Mess," Obi Wan gestured expansively to indicate the bedroom. Then his eyes widened as he came to a sudden realization. "And what did you do with your grandmother?" 


	153. Mischief Makers

Artoo had almost been eaten by a swamp monster. Fortunately, the little droid didn't taste very good, and the thing had spit him out. After cleaning the worst of the mud and roots off of him and making sure that there were no electrical shorts or loose wires, Luke had decided to make camp. He realized that he had no idea how far they were from Ani and Yoda, and that it would be best to eat and power-up the droid before launching into a search. In fact, it looked to him as if the gloomy swamp was growing darker, which could mean that nightfall was imminent.

He he found a clearing a short distance from the X-Wing which seemed to be on solid ground and set up camp, then went back to the ship for his emergency generator and rations. Returning, he activated the generator and picked up cable.

"You ready for some power?" he asked.

Artoo tootled an affirmative.

"Okay. Let's see. Put that in there," he said with a small smile as he opened Artoo's torso to plug him in. "There you go."

Artoo whistled his gratitude.

Luke looked around and sighed as he took in the mist-shrouded trees and mud as he sat down and took out his box of ration bars. "Isaly wasn't kidding about this place. I hope it doesn't take us long to find them. You might start rusting."

Artoo whistled again, this time with a shrill note of alarm.

"I'm kidding," Luke chuckled. "Still. I don't sense Ani nearby. All I have is this creepy feeling, like--"

"Feel like what?" asked a strange, high pitched voice above them. Luke spun without rising, his hand unconsciously moving to his blaster. He pulled it as he turned, automatically training it on the sound. His eyes widened at the sight of a strange, green, raggedly dressed creature, cringing atop a large root that protruded from the tree behind him.

"Like we're being watched!" he said suspiciously. Whatever it was, he hadn't heard its approach, and he hadn't sensed any more than that vague warning in the Force. He'd seen enough since leaving Tatooine that he knew not to trust in the thing's helpless appearance.

"Away put your weapon. I mean you no harm," it promised, hands and arms still up protectively in front of its face. Luke hesitated, reaching further into the Force, probing, and finally lowered the weapon when he sensed no malicious intent. He kept the blaster in hand, though, ready to raise it again at any moment. The creature peaked at him over its arm. "I am wondering. Why are you here?"

"I'm looking for someone," he said slowly.

"Looking? Found someone, you have, I would say, hmmm?" it said with a little laugh.

"Right," said Luke, trying to stifle a smile as he shifted to holster his blaster. "Help you I can. Yes, mmmm," it offered. "I don't think so. The person I'm looking for is here studying under a great warrior..." he paused. "Well. Three of them, actually. It's complicated. Nevermind."

"Ahhh! A great warrior. Wars not make one great," the little being scoffed, shaking its head. Leaning heavily on a walkling stick, it climbed down and moved over to one of their supply cases, where Luke had left his box of rations, including the half-finished one he had been eating.

He stood up, hovering uncertainly behind it. He really didn't think the creature meant any harm, but he didn't want it poking around, either. It picked up his food and examined it curiously.

"Put that down," Luke sighed. Then, before he could grab the bar away, the creature chomped down on it. "Hey! That's my dinner!"

He snatched what was left of it, then slapped down the lid on the durasteel box and picked it up before any more damage could be done. The creature spit out the bite he has taken and turned his head to look up at Luke with a disgusted expression. If he hadn't been so annoyed, the young pilot might even have laughed. He had to admit, the things weren't very good. Ani didn't even like them, and Ani was the most agreeable person that Luke had ever met. He would eat whatever was put in front of him without complaint--except for those.

"How you get so big, eating food of this kind?" it asked.

Luke shook his head and went to sit down again. He almost took a bit out of ration bar, then sighed and tossed it into the swamp. "Listen, friend, we didn't mean to land in that puddle, and if we could get our ship out, we would. So why don't you just…"

"Aww, cannot get your ship out," it mocked, its voice suddenly muffled. Luke turned toward it again and saw that it had now climbed onto his supply case and shoved itself halfway inside the larger one where he'd placed the generator.

"Hey, get out of there!" he snapped to his feet again as the creature began carelessly rummaging around. Snatching a hydrospanner out of its hand, he complained, "Hey, you could have broken this."

It ignored him, now tossing things out into the mud in an effort to reach whatever it was actually after.

"Don't do that. Ohhh…you're making mess!"

Finally, it emerged with Luke's lamp, and the pilot tried in vain to grab it. "Hey, give me that!"

The creature had startlingly fast reflexes and pulled back suddenly. "Mine! Or I will help you not."

"I don't want your help. I want my lamp back. We're gonna need it to get out of this slimy mudhole."

Artoo edged closer, but Luke was too busy arguing with the creature to pay the droid any mind. T  
"Mudhole? Slimy? My home this is!" it exclaimed, sounding offended and, in an odd way, like Ani often did when he was talking about the farm.

Suddenly, Artoo's claw arm snatched hold of the lamp, and the two of them began to struggle for the prize. The droid squawked angrily, and the creature grabbed its discarded walking stick, beginning to hammer it on the droid, stubbornly clinging to the lamp.

"Oh, Artoo, let him have it," Luke sighed again, but the tug-of-war continued.

"Mine! Mine!

"Artoo!"

"Mine!" Finally, the droid released the lamp, and his claw arm retreated. The creature followed its progress, examining the compartment that Artoo's appendage disappeared into.

"Mine!" it said again with evident satisfaction. "Now will you move along, little fella? We've got a lot of work to do," Luke urged, fed up with its antics.

"No! No, no!" it said, tottering back over to him. "Stay and help you, I will. Find your friend, hmm?

"I'm not looking for a friend, I'm looking for my brother," Luke said in exasperation.

"Oohhh," the little being's eyes widened. "Your brother. Yoda's apprentice you seek!"

"You know them?" Luke dropped into a crouch, meeting the creature's eyes in surprise. Ani must have mentioned him--that must have been a good sign. He couldn't have been too angry if he was talking to this little guy about Luke.

"Mmm. Take you to them, I will," it said with a laugh. "Yes, yes. But now, we must eat. Come. Good food. Come," it hobbled off into the swamp, turning once to gesture after Luke, who was still crouched beside Artoo, watching in disbelief. A sudden, horrible realization had begun to dawn on him. No--it didn't _dawn_ on him at all but simply appeared, as if it had been there all along, hidden from him and lurking in the corners of his awareness.

_"He's a little green guy about yea big…"_ Leia had said to Han.

_"I think he likes to talk backwards so that he knows his students are really paying attention to what he says,"_ Ani had remarked when Shmi asked him what Yoda was like.

_"Master Yoda is known to test students in unexpected ways. He keeps his own council about his methods."_

That last had been Obi Wan. Luke slowly closed his eyes. "Ohhh, no," he said with a groan.

His father was going to kill him.

------ 

"What?" asked Padme as she came out of the 'fresher. Tying her robe as she walked, she came up behind her husband and peered over his shoulder into the twins' room. "I was in the shower…I was only gone for fifteen minutes!"

"Fifteen minutes," repeated Obi Wan. "That has got to be a new record."

"Well, I haven't been in _here_ since last night," she explained. "But I'm pretty sure that Junior had a bed when he woke up this morning."

"One would think," Obi Wan agreed dryly. "Why were you taking a shower in the middle of the afternoon?"

"Someone spilled blue milk and chocolate syrup all over me," she explained. "Separately."

Obi-Too assumed a decidedly innocent expression, and Junior became fascinated with the toes of his boots. Their grandfather nodded. "Distraction technique, then?"

"So I assume," she said, moving to stand beside him.

"Well?" he looked pointedly at the twins. "What are you boys _doing?"_

She had to force herself to maintain a stern expression as they explained. Trust her grandchildren to come up with an idea like giving Bail a medal. She had a sneaking suspicion that he would wear it, too. Apparently, the twins had no idea exactly where a holoprojector was in an astromech droid. In fact, the first model they dismantled didn't even have one, which had led to no small amount of confusion. Obi Wan interrupted the narrative long enough to explain that sometimes usuable components from one damaged unit could be scavenged to re-fit a more functional one, keeping the droids which were most easily repaired in active service while ones which were heavily damaged already could wait in the repair bays. The boys concurred with this statement, saying that the first droid had also been missing a dome, but they had felt bad for it because it didn't have a head and gone back to find a spare one for it. Then they had dismantled the second one and found that its holoprojector didn't work, so they had set about to take apart the third droid. When their grandfather ventured to inquire why they didn't simply remove the third projector rather than making scrap of another droid, the twins eyed him as if he had suddenly lost his mind.

"We _like_ takin' droids apart, G'apa!" Junior exclaimed.

"Oh. Naturally. Well, I don't suppose you also like putting droids back together?"

The boys turned to look at one another, then shrugged and grinned at this seemingly novel concept. "We try it."

She didn't think they would have all that much trouble reassembling the unfortunate astromechs. Junior hadn't done all that badly with the med droid he'd decided to make for Isaly, and that was far more complex. Of course, at the moment, it was still a no more than a shell with some open wiring and a head that wobbled and tended to fall off, but considering the twins' age, it was still impressive. Obi Wan must have agreed, because he let the matter drop.

"All right," he rubbed his eyes a bit and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What are you putting on the message for Uncle Bail?"

They looked at one another again, frowning deeply. Padme restrained a laugh. Obi-Too turned back to him solemnly. "We don't know yet."

"Well, wouldn't it be prudent to figure that out?" suggested Obi Wan.

"We will," Junior assured him.

"When?"

"When we finish," Obi Too sighed expansively.

"Patience, Gran'father," Junior pronounced with a grave nod.

Obi Wan raised his eyes to the ceiling. "I think I am going to finish my nap."


	154. Bridging The Gap

"I think the kid actually fell asleep," remarked Han, smirking a little as he watched Leia struggle with a lever that he knew wasn't going to budge.

"Good," she said. "She hasn't slept much at all since Luke went missing. You didn't leave her in the maintenance hatch, did you?"

"Nah, put her in my bunk," he replied, slipping in behind her to reach for the lever.

She shoved an elbow into his chest, pushing him back. So much for a nice, quiet night at home. He didn't step away, though. He wouldn't give her that much.

"Hey, Your Worship, I'm only trying to help!"

"Would you please stop calling me that?" she muttered, still struggling with the lever.

"Sure, Leia," he grinned devilishly, infusing his tone with a note that was at once suggestive and mocking.

She shook her head in disgust. "Oh, you make it so difficult sometimes."

"I do, I really do," he said, still half-teasing. "You could be a little nicer, though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I'm okay."

"Of course I do, Han--" she started then broke off as she moved away from him and began to massage her sore hand. Then her voice took on the same sardonic note that he'd used with her. She glanced back at him, smirking. "Occasionally. Maybe. When you're not acting like a scoundrel."

He closed the distance between them again, putting his hand on her cheek. He held her gaze for long moment, until her dark eyes softened, and her lips parted to draw in a faintly unsteady breath. Then he let his hand slide away and reached down to clasp her fingers. They were cold despite the hard work she'd been doing, and he thought he could feel a faint tremor.

"Scoundrel?" he said, frowning slightly.

She gave a weak nod.

"Scoundrel," now he grinned at the word, beginning to massage her hand for her. "I like the sound of that."

She looked down at their hands. Then her eyes shot back up to his face. "You still owe me an apology."  
"I know," he said, still casually working the cramp out of her hand.

"Stop that," she said.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Stop that," she repeated, indicating their hands. But she didn't pull away. Her voice was soft and plaintive. "My hands are dirty."

"My hands are dirty too," he reminded her as he stepped closer. She backed against the wall and he pursued her, a predator about to close a hunt. "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid," she shook her head. "I want an apology. And I want to come with you to Jabba's."

He ignored her, leaning closer, letting his lips come within a hairsbreadth of hers, so that she could feel the heat of his breath and no more. Keeping his voice low and intense, he told her, "You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

"I happen to like nice men," she protested weakly.

"I'm a nice man."

She shook her head, "No, you're not, you're…"

His lips came down on hers, cutting off the rest of the sentence, and she didn't bother to resist. Her arms slid around him, and she pressed herself against him, her body soft and pliant, mouth eager and full of all the relief that she hadn't been able to show him when he'd brought her brother back, all the fear and uncertainty they faced now, the driving, unflinching love that bound them--

"Sir! Sir!" Threepio was tapping his shoulder.

Both of them froze.

"Sir! I've isolated the reverse power flux coupling!"

"Thank you," Han said icily. "Thank you very much."

------

Obi Wan didn't return to his nap. He turned and went into the living room, and Padme fully expected him to go to bed, but as the twins' door slid closed, he walked over to the couch and stood staring at it for a long moment, as if he didn't quite know where he was. Then he sank down onto it and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Frowning, Padme followed.

"Obi Wan?"

"Mmm."

"Are you all right?" she slid down beside him, watching his face carefully. His feelings were suddenly a confused jumble that she couldn't interpret.

He nodded faintly. "I had a very strange dream."

"Are you still there?" she asked.

"I wish I was," he confessed.

"That doesn't sound like you," her frown deepened.

"I know."

"What was it about?"

"Anakin."

She sighed and covered his hand with hers, feeling tears sting her eyes at the pain that single name could still bring him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Do you remember the painting in Ani's room?" he asked.

"The one Bail commissioned?"

He nodded. "It started when we were posing for that. Everything was exactly the way it had been, and then Bail came in and told us that he was supposed to bring us a message from you. Stop fussing with the painting and come in the kitchen. So, Anakin complained he was hungry and walked out. I followed him, and we ended up hanging the painting in Ani's room because Anakin wanted to surprise him with it. I suppose that's probably what he would have wanted to do if we'd been home."

She nodded slowly. Anakin and Obi Wan had been caught behind Separatist lines on Ani's second birthday. Both of them had nearly been killed, but they finally made it back to Naboo a few weeks later. She and Sola had hung the painting for Ani by then.

"Well, then you called and told us to come in the kitchen," he went on. "So, we walked out of Ani's room, and suddenly Anakin was older. His hair was longer, like it was toward the end of the war, and he had the scar on his eye. But he should've been much older than that, because the next thing I knew, Obi-Too and Junior came running in and grabbed his arms, wanting him to play with them. There was a sign above the kitchen door that said 'Happy Birthday Ani, Luke, and Leia.'"

Padme's fingers tightened on his as she began to understand. At first, she had assumed that the dream would be a premonition, some message from the Force. This had nothing to do with mysticism. He missed his friend, and his mind had given him the two things he could really never have: Anakin as he was before Mustafar, and the two of them together, watching his family grow up around them.

"Then the twins ran off, and we went into the kitchen. Everything was different. The kids were older; Han and Leia were married with three grown children. Shmi had a son. Luke was married to Mara Jade."

"Mara Jade?" she stared at him, gape-mouthed.

"They had three children," he nodded.

"Wow. Is there more?"

"Well, Obi-Too and Junior were outside sparring, and Anakin and I watched them from the window. Everyone started to come over and look, and I think Leia was rooting for Obi-Too, but Anakin and I were rooting for Junior. Then the bed fell in the boys' room, and I woke up."

"Do you think it meant anything?" she asked carefully.

He looked back at her and sighed softly. "I suppose it meant exactly what you already think it did. And that the older those two monsters get, the more they remind me of Anakin and I."

She smiled at that, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "So, what about Luke and Mara Jade?"

"Well, that," he shook his head. "That…is something I can't even begin to figure out."

Sensing that the worst of his sorrow had ebbed--at least for the time being--she allowed a small chuckle. Then she shifted closer and wrapped her arm around him, drawing his head onto her shoulder. "You know, I wonder if that painting is still around somewhere on Naboo."

"Do you think Sola and Darred would have kept it when they sold the house?"

"I don't know. I know that they had to get rid of some of Mom and Dad's things that they didn't have room for, but anything like that they would have kept or given to the girls."

He nodded, not saying anything.

"Maybe when Han's back, I can ask him to take a trip home for me and see," she mused.

"Mmm," he said noncommittally.

"Would it bother you having it around?"

"No," he said carefully. "No, I don't think so."

"Ani?"

"He'd like it," Obi Wan said without hesitation. "Luke, though. I don't know…"

------

A heavy downpour began before they reached Yoda's house. Another time, Luke might have complained, but now he was simply too mortified to do anything but trudge along behind the Jedi Master. Yoda had accepted his apology with a grunt and a muttered "Much to learn you still have, young Kenobi."

Luke didn't dare say more. Yoda led them to a mud house perched atop a moss-covered knoll. It was a small, roughly dome-shaped structure with a few odd protrusions, but it radiated a warm glow from the transparisteel windows that Luke knew were a recent addition, the panes having been brought along when Ani and Isaly returned after Mustafar.

Suddenly, the door flung itself wide, and Isaly ducked out, running up to him. Despite his embarrassment over his behavior toward Yoda, Luke felt a smile tug his lips upward at the sight of her. He skirted the Master and jogged the rest of the way, the smile widening as she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

"Hey!" he greeted her, his own arms moving around her in a tight squeeze.

"Luke!" she pulled back, her hands sliding onto her shoulders. Her expression shifted to a worried frown. "Is everything all right? How are the kids? What are you doing here?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Everything's fine. Echo Base had to be evacuated, but Mom and Dad put the kids on the first transport out. They've probably been back at the Fleet for a couple days already."

"Then…?"

"Actually, I…" he trailed off, looking around with a trace of worry. "Is Ani here?"

"He took Jareth out to get firewood a little while ago," she explained. "What's the matter?"

"I guess it's nothing," he said slowly. "I just had this crazy dream. Guess it messed with my head a little."

"A little?" Isaly raised an eyebrow, stepping back. "Enough that you came all the way to Dagobah to make sure Ani was all right? What kind of dream was this?"

He knew better than to try to brush her concern aside. "Ani and I were fighting Palpatine, and we lost. He got between us. I guess…I just wanted to make sure that--y'know--we were okay."

Now she smiled and reached up to give his hair an affectionate tousle. "Ani's missed you, too."

"Has he?"

"Of course he has. He doesn't like being at odds with you. He says it doesn't fit, whatever that means," she explained.

"I know exactly what it means," Luke smiled.

"Of course you do," Isaly sighed fondly. Then she turned at the sound of rustling foliage behind them, and Luke followed her gaze to see Ani and Jareth emerge from the treeline on the opposite side of the house.

"Luke!" he exclaimed, quickly setting down the armload of kindling he was carrying.

Luke sprinted toward him as Ani straightened and rushed out of the woods. The two soggy brothers laughed at the sight of one another and clasped forearms, any tension that either had expected between them forgotten.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Ani laughed as he yanked his brother into a rough embrace.

"That's a long story," said Luke.

"Well, come on," Ani urged, still laughing. "Tell me inside."


	155. A New Enemy

Qui-Gon could immediately tell that Yoda was not overly enthusiastic about taking on a second apprentice. It didn't matter to him that Mace was currently handling most of Ani's instruction. Nor did it matter to him that both boys had already been trained in the ways of the Force by their father. His objections began over dinner, when Luke finished explaining the vision he had seen to Ani and his subsequent decision to come to Dagobah.

"So, you're just gonna stick to me until this fight actually happens, huh?" Ani asked with a small smile. There was some teasing in his tone, but it was affectionate and held no mocking undertone. Both boys were well aware that Ani would have made the same choice; in fact, Luke's reasons for coming now were a perfect reflection of the ones his older brother had always had for _not_ coming before. He'd intended to remain at his father's side for however long he had to in order be there when the time came for Obi Wan to face Vader much as Luke was doing for him now in regard to Palpatine.

"I guess I am," Luke shrugged.

"That's the Kenobi way, ain't it, Master?" Jareth piped up.

Ani turned a half smile on him. "Yes it is."

Luke's eyebrow rose a bit. "Master?"

Ani sighed, "He wouldn't take no for an answer. And, as Qui-Gon pointed out, his training has already begun. It's better that it should continue, and I have the feeling that a few more years isn't going to change anything in who he thinks should be his teacher."

In response to that, Jareth became studiously occupied with slurping his soup, and Isaly only laughed. The truth was that any decision about Jareth's future as Ani's apprentice lay not with the boy but with Ani himself, and they both knew that. Ani was used to a far less formal relationship with his Jedi Master than a Padwan in the old Order would have had; Obi Wan treated him with open affection and a casual manner; they had been partners on equal footing for most of Ani's youth on Tatooine. So, while he _could_have rebuffed Jareth Tyrn and left the boy's training in the hands of Yoda and Qui-Gon, the fact that he _hadn't_ done so set the stage for a Master/Apprentice dynamic with much the same tone as the one he'd shared with his father--and since Jareth was not the quiet, unassuming sort that both Ani and Obi Wan were, that relationship was already beginning to take on certain other parallels which Qui-Gon found immensely amusing. It also said something to Qui-Gon about exactly how far his pupil had come in the years since the Death Star.

"That's just weird," said Luke.

"Oh, thanks," Ani sighed again.

"No offense," Luke offered with an apologetic shrug.

Artoo, who had surreptitiously followed Luke and Yoda and subsequently been invited in by Isaly, whistled in agreement. Ani turned to look at the droid, who was moving toward the table with a tray of bread held in his claw-arm. Artoo slid the tray onto the table, receiving a smile from Isaly.

"Thank you, Artoo."

He twittered happily in response.

"You still think of me as a four-year-old kid playing at Kenobi and Skywalker," Ani remarked, shaking his head at the astromech.

Artoo's dome swiveled and he let out a long, low warble of innocence. Everyone laughed--except for Yoda, who was eating his soup with a pensive expression. Finally, he set down his spoon, folded his hands and regarded the brothers with large, piercing yellow eyes. Both of them stilled, and Isaly and Jareth frowned. Qui-Gon held back a sigh as Yoda's gaze settled on Luke. He glanced at Mace, but the other Force Spirit was looking on with his usual impassivity.

"Agree with this decision of yours, does Obi Wan?" he asked frankly.

Luke ducked his head. "No, Master Yoda. He wanted me to stay with the Fleet and finish my training with him."

"Hmrph."

Ani rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

"Willful you are," pronounced Yoda. "Disobeyed one Master, you have, and come here expecting another to do what has _already_ been offered you twice--and rejected!"

Luke's eyes flashed and the set of his jaw hardened as he regarded the wizened Jedi. "I had to come."

"Much anger I sense in you," said Yoda in the same calm, implacable tone. "Fear."

"Master Yoda, was I any different when you agreed to train me?" Ani asked.

"Impatient, you were not," Yoda stabbed a stubby finger at him. "Willful, stubborn, you were not."

"I beg to differ," Isaly spoke up.

"Willing to listen he was," Yoda told her with a shake of his head.

"I will listen!" Luke promised. "Master, I will do whatever you tell me to do!"

"Already broken this promise to your father, you have," Yoda reminded him.

"I--" Luke closed his eyes, unable to refute the old Jedi's statement. "Yes, Master, I have."

"Luke had his own path to follow, Master Yoda," said Ani. "He wasn't ready when we left Tatooine. He was still a boy, and our father understood that. Forcing him to continue the training after the Battle of Yavin would have accomplished nothing. It's not reasonable to punish him _now_ for something that happened more than three years ago. He is a different person."

"I'm ready now," Luke nodded, seizing gratefully on his older brother's defense.

"Ready are you? What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own council will I keep on who is to be trained. If ready you were, then with your Master you should have remained. Leave me next, will you? Rush off when your brother's time here is complete? A game, Jedi training is not! Jedi Padawans do not drift from one teacher to the next--start and stop the training when they wish! A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind," he paused to look at Ani and waved a hand to indicate Luke. "This one a long time have I watched. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph. Adventure. Hah. Excitement. Hah! A Jedi craves not these things."

Ani glanced down at the table with a nod. He had no argument. Yoda turned back to Luke with a harsh glare.

"You are reckless!"

Luke looked down as well. He couldn't dispute that statement. Furthermore, he'd already said that he intended to follow Ani; everyone at the table knew that he wouldn't change his mind. Slowly, though, Ani looked up, affixing a look of quiet decision on his teacher.

"Then I will train him."

Qui-Gon smirked quietly.

Luke and Jareth both looked up at him with a start. "What?"

"An apprentice you already have," Yoda reminded Ani. "And your own training to complete. Too much this is."

"I don't intend to take Luke as my apprentice," Ani shook his head. "My brother and I have been raised and trained as equals, and equals we will remain. At the moment, however, I happen to possess knowledge that he needs. Luke is young; he has much to learn about the Living Force, and these are things that you could teach him far better than I, Master. But we both know that I _have_ to face Palpatine again, and my brother is here because he intends to come with me, whether you approve of that decision or not. I, for one, don't intend to go back to my parents and explain to them that their son is dead because no one finished his lightsaber instruction. I _can_ give him that if you won't, and the truth is that I need a sparring partner. I've gone as far as I can without a partner, and Luke can learn what he needs from me at the same time."

Yoda heaved a sigh, suddenly weary. He knew, of course, that he had little choice. Too much depended on the Kenobi children now. "Help you I will. But _your_ responsibility this will be, Anakin Kenobi."

-----

Darth Vader stood surrounded by the hologram images of his fleet captains, listening to the latest details on the hunt for the Millennium Falcon. One of those images flickered and died away as an asteroid collided with the ship where the transmission had originated. Vader glanced at it then turned back to the static filled image of Captain Needa.

"...and that, Lord Vader, was the last time they appeared in any of our scopes. Considering the amount of damage we've sustained, they must have been destroyed," he was saying.  
No, Captain, they're alive," Vader insisted. "I want every ship available to sweep the asteroid field until they are found.

"Yes, Lord Vader," he replied, and the holograms began to fade out.

Vader turned toward the door, where Piett was entering, almost at a run. He sensed fear, and the man's eyes were several sizes larger than normal. "Lord Vader."

"Yes, Admiral, what is it?" he asked crisply. "The Emperor commands you make contact with him."

_Wonderful, _thought Vader with a mental sigh. Reports of the new, permanent Rebel base being established had finally given him a reprieve from his currently unsuccessful search for the Ecaruan brat. Both he and the Emperor were certain that the Kenobis would be there, and Mara Jade couldn't be used to lead a full-scale military assault of this type. He had _thought_ that by destroying Obi Wan and bringing in Luke, he could re-establish his favor with Palpatine. Ani was still missing, which would fit well with Vader's own plans for the brothers, but somehow Luke had managed to slip through his fingers. He had a new plan, but that plan required Shmi and the others who were still hiding somewhere in the asteroid field--a fact which Vader did not feel particularly inclined to explain to the Emperor.

"Move the ship out of the asteroid field so that we can send a clear transmission," he said without any hint of his own annoyance.

He strode back to his own quarters, an austere ship's cabin which held his hyperbaric chamber, a desk and chair, and little else. By the time he had traversed the ship and entered this room, Piett should already have established contact with Imperial Center, so he climbed the steps to the hyperbaric chamber, crossed the platform upon which it rested and descended on the other side. Then he knelt to await the Emperor's holographic appearance.

In another moment, a giant, blue likeness of Palpatine wavered into existence above him. The Emperor's deformed features were partially hidden in the shadows of his hood, but even holographically, the yellow eyes bored like hot cinders through Vader's armor. He looked back into the hideous face of his Sith mentor with no outward reaction, a feat made somewhat easier by the impassivity of his facemask.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?"

"There is a great disturbance in the Force," said Palpatine.

"I have felt it," replied Vader.

"We have a new enemy. The young rebel who destroyed the Death Star. The son of Obi Wan Kenobi."

"I have faced him in combat; alone, he is little threat to us," Vader said, which was truthful enough, at least for the moment.

"He is no longer alone. He has re-joined his brother and even now they are preparing themselves for battle," Palpatine told him.

"They are still both young and largely untried," Vader said slowly. "Luke is just a boy."

"The Force is strong with them. Together, they could destroy us," Palpatine replied. "I have forseen it. The sons of Kenobi must not complete their Jedi training."

"If they could yet be turned, they would make powerful allies," ventured Vader carefully.

"Can it still be done?" Palpatine asked.

Vader considered. It _would_ be more difficult to drive a wedge between them if they could not be captured separately. His plan might have to altered, but there were still other ways…

"They will join us or die, my Master."


	156. What We Begin

Luke and Ani were up before the sun and by the time light began to filter into the swamp, both brothers were grimy and drenched in sweat. They weren't alone; Jareth had trotted out after them and followed the pair through the stand of trees on the far side of the house. A few dozen meters beyond it, there was a far larger clearing, which Ani said he'd been progressively widening since the work on the house had been finished. It had become the main source of wood for the family--a precious commodity since they'd had almost nothing in the way of furniture when they arrived and though they had a small generator, it couldn't be relied upon for all the cooking and heating. Ani had, of course, always intended it to be used for weapons' work, and although he hadn't counted on Luke's arrival, he had at least expected to find himself sparring with Yoda, so it was more than adequate to serve the two brothers' needs by now. Jareth had climbed into a tree at the clearing's edge and sat there with his legs dangling from either side of a thick, gnarled overhanging branch.

Luke thought it was a good thing the boy was so much like a cat, otherwise he might have slid right off the branch and crashed into the mud in sheer astonishment. Jareth had clearly been impressed with Ani's swordsmanship last night. Now, as the two brothers cut, slashed, and whirled around the clearing--or rather, as Ani battered Luke's defenses into a tighter and tighter circle, dancing him through the rough circle at exactly the pace the older brother wanted, entirely in control of the contest, Jareth was convinced that his master must be the single greatest swordsman that the Jedi Order had ever produced.

Luke knew better. He had seen their father in his heyday. He also knew that while Obi Wan's Soresu could have withstood any attack that Ani threw at it, his own defenses were eventually going to become inadequate. Ani had lost some of the measured, precise control that Luke remembered; his movements were less fluid, but he was faster and every attack came with a new, relentless and seemingly inexhaustible power. Luke wasn't particularly surprised by how quickly his brother regained his ability with a lightsaber, but the difference in technique and style took him off guard. Add to that the fact that Ani kept alternating his defensive or offensive hands or joining the two ends of his saberstaff together at unexpected moments, Luke had all he could do to hold his brother off. It was little wonder Jareth thought—

"Stop thinking about Jareth," Ani cut in, abruptly switching hands to come at Luke with a diagonal slash that probably would have bisected him if this had been real combat.

"What are you _doing?!_" Luke cried in astonishment.

"Concentrate," came the cool reply.

Luke shoved Ani's green blade away, but the blue one arched in and down toward the side of his left leg. He pivoted to avoid it and the green blade almost shaved off his ear. He blocked the blow, stepping back at the same time to brace himself against the force of his brother's attack. With a two-handed grip on his hilt, he was able to turn the green blade aside, but doing so directed all of his kinetic energy upward and to the side, overbalancing him so that when the blue lightsaber circled back up and in toward his exposed ribcage, his only option was to fall.

He brought his legs forward as he did so, attempting an ankle sweep, but Ani anticipated the move and neatly skipped over his legs. Then, before Luke could recover and roll to his feet, the Knight pivoted, pointing the blade of his blue lightsaber at his brother's throat.

Panting and breathless, Luke could only lie there for several seconds, trying to catch his breath. Jareth's mud-covered boots dangled directly over him, and suddenly, a large mud-splatter came off of one of them and landed squarely between the hapless trainee's eyes. Sighing, Luke slowly raised his left hand and swiped the mud away with his fingers while Jareth swung about on the branch to get his feet out of the way and hung upside down to peer at him. Ani's lips twitched a bit, but he gave no other sign of amusement.

"Jareth," he said without breaking eye contact with his brother. "Go and ask Master Yoda to work with you on those breathing and stretching exercises I showed you the other day."

The boy groaned loudly, but he didn't actually complain. He also didn't jump out of the tree as Luke expected but scrambled higher into the branches and hopped from there into another tree. Luke boosted himself up onto his elbows, then pushed his way into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.

"Sorry," Ani said, thumbing off both of his weapons.

"What were you trying to do?" Luke asked, allowing a bit of heat into his tone.

Ani clipped his lightsabers to the hooks on either side of his belt and lowered himself to the ground, arranging himself beside Luke with his legs facing toward his younger brother's head. Then he drew up one knee and hooked his arm casually around it.

"Vader isn't gonna go easy on either of us," he said slowly. "He's not going to fight fair. We have to pull out all the stops. You're going to have to be just as hard on me."

"Not much chance of that anyway," Luke said with a half annoyed shake of his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ani raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, Ani. How am I supposed to give it to you like that when you're twice as good as I am with a lightsaber?" he sighed.

"I'm only better because I've had more practice," Ani asserted.

"Right," Luke snorted. "And the more practice I get, the more you'll have too."

"Yes, but look at what you just did," urged his brother.

"What? Land on my back?"

"Luke, you've hardly touched a lightsaber in three years," Ani shook his head. "I've had Master Windu driving me for months. Under the circumstances, I wouldn't have expected you to last as long as you did."

Luke flushed a little. "Well, Dad had us both doing this all the time anyway. It's not like you forget it."

"Come on, take credit where it's due," sighed his brother.

"You've always been the better Jedi," Luke said flatly. There might once have been a touch of resentment in that statement, but there wasn't now. As far as Luke was concerned, it was simple fact.

"As far as I'm concerned, the only person that either of us needs to be competing against is himself," Ani replied.

"I didn't mean it like that," Luke said. "I know Jedi training isn't a competition, Ani. But you are stronger, and you understand the ways of the Force a lot better than I do."

"That's only because I've spent more time training. I'm not inherently better than you. In fact, I think you'll surpass me rather quickly once we've been at this for a while," countered Ani.

"Come on, Ani," Luke shook his head again.

"Luke, you and Leia are both far stronger in the Force than I am. After I was born, Dad had surgery to make sure that Mom wouldn't get pregnant again. The Force caused a spontaneous reversal of the surgery. It's directly responsible for your and Leia's existence. That's why Dad has always known that the two of you would become Jedi eventually," Ani said.

"Well, why didn't he ever say anything about it?" frowned Luke.

"He probably didn't want you to feel pressured or coerced," Ani shrugged. "Dad never had a choice about being a Jedi, not really. Younglings were raised in the temple from infancy, and by the time they were old enough to make a choice, they didn't know anything other than the Jedi Way, Jedi teachings, a Jedi's understanding of the Force and the galaxy. What choice could he have made? That's why it took him so long to reconcile himself to the idea of being in love with Mom and why the decision to leave was so difficult for him. I think, as he's gotten older, and he's come to realize how much they missed out on before the Clone Wars--how much he's missed out on besides that, he just wanted you both to have a choice."

"And you?"

The smile Ani gave him was slightly strained but genuine. "I made my choice after the siege on the Temple."  
"But you were only four," Luke pointed out. "Was it really any different from the way the old Jedi made their commitments to the Order."

"I wasn't a kid anymore, no matter how young I was," Ani said candidly. "I hadn't been isolated from the world before that. I had memories of the way our family life was on Naboo with Grandma and Grandpa Naberrie. Mom didn't always have a ready sitter, and once we went back to Coruscant, she kept me as close to her as she could. I saw the work that she was doing with Uncle Bail and Mon Mothma. I didn't understand all of it or all of the implications, but I knew enough to grasp that they were trying to save the Republic from the inside while Dad, Uncle Anakin, and the rest of the Jedi were trying to keep the Separatists from destroying it altogether. I knew there were other ways to serve, other lives I could have chosen. The thing is, when you come face to face with the Dark Side and it wears the face of someone you love as much as your own father…"

"The rest doesn't seem as important anymore?" Luke ventured.

Ani frowned in consideration. "No. At least not for me. I've never consciously voiced any of this; it's just all sort of been there in my gut. I don't know how much sense it's really going to make to someone else, but I think what happened is that I saw how important all those things were, that Vader and Palpatine were literally going to kill everything the Republic was: its people, its cultures, its political ideals. There have to be people somewhere who are willing to fight for it, even if they don't succeed. I could have done that as a politician or a pilot or even as a farmer I guess. Goods have to be produced in order to support an army this size. For all that, though, it's only as a Jedi Knight that I can really be everything I was meant to be."

Luke considered this for a while, trying to examine Ani's statements the way that their parents had trained him to: carefully, critically, but without personal bias, weighing all its possible implications before commenting. He wasn't as naturally introspective as his brother was. He tended to listen to his gut more than his head, and he wasn't given to the kind of long hours that Ani could spend in taking internal inventory. There were good and bad points to this. On the one hand, he could make quick decisions and follow them through in crisis situations where Ani often wasted precious time deliberating. On the other hand, Luke knew that he could be impulsive, and the kind of connections that Ani made between past and present, the awareness of the consequences that their actions might have was something that Luke often wished he possessed. Still, while he didn't think that he would have made the intuitive realization that his brother had just expressed to him, he could analyze it.

"But you can't sacrifice the rest of what you are to be a Jedi," he said at length.

"You're right," Ani agreed. "That was what happened to the Old Order. The Jedi became so removed from the rest of the galaxy, so immured in their temple and their philosophy that they lost the ability to adapt. We have to be able to balance being Jedi with whatever else we are."

"Isn't that going to get a lot more complicated than it is now?" Luke asked.  
"What do you mean?"

"The only Jedi left are our family. We have different interests and abilities, but when it comes down to it, we think the same way. Mom and Dad gave us the same values no matter what we do. What happens when you have a bunch of Jedi politicians who want different things, or…"

"Politicians," Ani rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers, then quickly added, "Leia and Mom excluded."

"That's Dad talking," Luke said with a knowing half-smile.

"Maybe so," his brother admitted.

"It's not just the politicians. You and I used to have different priorities even when we both lived on Tatooine," Luke frowned.

"I know what you're getting at, and you're right, to an extent, but that's where the idea of balance comes in. Whatever else we all might be, we're still Jedi. Our actions flow out of accord with the will of the Force, not our personal desires. There are bound to be disagreements, but as the only loyalty the Jedi Order holds is to serving the Force and the galaxy, then we should be able to prevent differing viewpoints from fracturing us and causing schism."

Luke's eyebrows rose. "The Force? Not the Republic?"

"I think that being bound so closely to the Republic was what made the old Order so vulnerable to Palpatine's machinations. When I was little, I remember hearing Mon Mothma call the Jedi Palpatine's puppets. I didn't really know what she meant at the time, but now that I think about it, I can see that she was right. Our loyalties can't be tied to a political machine: not even one that we help create," Ani said.

"Jedi can't be above the law, either," Luke said.

"Of course not. But being bound by the laws that govern a society is different from being servants of the governing body," replied Ani.

Luke nodded, still thoughtful. "How do you think Mom and Dad are going to feel about that idea?"

Ani's lips flickered upward. "I'm not sure. Dad doesn't trust politicians, but he believes just as strongly in the ideals of the Republic and the principles of democracy as anyone else on the High Council."

"And he's pretty darn used to the Jedi being servants of the Republic," Luke finished the thought.

Ani nodded.

"I get the feeling Mom didn't really trust the old Order," Luke mused.

"She didn't agree with a lot of their views," Ani said. "And once the Clone Wars started, the Jedi became the military leaders of a war in which she didn't believe, not to mention the direct cause of Dad's being gone so often. I don't think she ever consciously blamed them; they were following orders given by the Senate and the Chancellor, but from an emotional standpoint, the Jedi were…not the enemy, so much as the visible face of several problems. Then when she began to understand what Palpatine was trying to do, the Jedi were not to be trusted."

"So does keeping the Jedi unaffiliated with the new government make them more or less trustworthy?" Luke wanted to know.

"Now? It's probably a moot point. As long as Dad's around to guide the Jedi, she trusts them as implicitly as she trusts him. Later, I'm not sure. I'd guess more as long as we can guarantee that autonomy doesn't mean being above the law. Dad will want to make sure that the Order can still function as peacekeepers."

"Well, maybe the Jedi shouldn't be _unaffiliated_ with the government so much as part of it," said Luke. Then he frowned as he tried to puzzle out how such an idea would work and what the ramifications would be.

Ani ran a hand over his face and groaned. "Don't tell Dad I said this, but I think you might be on to something, little brother."

-Note:  
29 Mar 2008

I apologize for the delay in posting the latest chapter of One Path. I know it was scheduled to go up last week; it was finished. My beta-reader and I happened to both have some personal problems at roughly the same time which complicated matters considerably, at least for me. Anyway.

Aruna7's internet is down until at least this coming Tuesday. She is not sure when she will be able to be back online, and I feel it's best to suspend work on our joint projects until we can communicate easily. These stories tend to grow by leaps and bounds, and especially with One Path, I don't feel comfortable going solo at this critical stage. So, I am putting both One Path and Land and Sky on hiatus again until I speak to Aruna. The comm will not be on hiatus, since I may wish to post art and other information in the meanwhile. Hopefully this will be sorted out soon. Until then, may the Force be with you.


	157. Nightmares

Well, to kick off the summer (since Monday was Memorial Day in the US) I've decided to bring One Path off of hiatus. Aruna concurs, which is a very good thing in my opinion, since I have about 20 new finished chapters and 20 other pages of material that will make it into later chapters. I'll be posting at least a chapter or two this evening, but first some notes and announcements.

I know it has been a while, and we apologize for the wait. Aruna7 and I both experienced internet troubles in the past few months, which made it difficult for me to take the various plot threads in my brain or on paper and organize them into chapters. I have also been spending a great deal of time and effort on my original series right now, so One Path has been written in spurts between other work, but not in any coherent order.

Much of the material I will be posting in this upcoming bunch of chapters has been partially written before now and had to be revamped, rearranged, and expanded upon to include other developments. I find it disconcerting for things to be endlessly edited and added to after posting, so I make a concerted effort to arrive at what we both consider the best, most inclusive and well thought out version of a sequence of events before sharing it online. We do not think that there are any discrepancies, but if something is off, please feel free to offer concrit.

We received some anonymous feedback a while ago in regard to the famous "Kessel Run in less than twelve parecs" line from ANH but I didn't have a chance to respond. The reader writes:

_I'm sure you've gotten this before, but I should explain what they mean by 12 parsecs. Kessel is surrounded by black holes (I'm sure you know this). What he's talking about is the route he took was so short, it's implying that it was very quick. No other ship would have had the power to cut the corner that close to the black holes._

We're both aware that the scene has been retconned in the EU, however the choice to have Ani and Luke interpret the line as an attempt on Han's part to mislead the Kenobis was intentional.

While we both respect the work of the EU writers, Aruna and I have somewhat different views on how much of the EU we regard as "canonical" in the sense that the EU explanation of an event is the only possibility and therefore needs to be strictly adhered to in One Path. This was a compromise between our two viewpoints. Our scene doesn't address whether or not Han DID shave physical distance off the run by bringing the ship closer to The Maw. So, he very well may have done that if readers wish to interpret it that way. The Kenobi boys have no way of knowing about that. We don't find it very likely that Han would offer an explanation to potential passengers while sitting in the cantina, and Chewie would think it was funny when someone was unimpressed with Han regardless of the situation.

There were several other attempts at "explaining" the line before it reached the EU and as an author I feel that the most likely one—that Han was bragging to impress people he perceived as ignorant—is supported by the original script and the camera work in the film which cuts back to Obi Wan's expression:

_HAN It's the ship that made the Kessel run in less than twelve parsecs!  
Ben reacts to Solo's stupid attempt to impress them with obvious misinformation._

The ANH novelization doesn't use the word parsec at all, but rather Han says "standard time units," so since the EU seems to be contradicting itself on the matter of exactly what the line refers to, I chose to use the source that made the most sense within the context of the story. Aruna fully supported my choice, and this scene was the result.

As always, we welcome and appreciate reader feedback, and we'd like to reassure everyone that very little happens in One Path without a great deal of thought and consideration of character motivations and canon material. This will be added to the main notes section, but I also wanted to post it here for the benefit of readers who may not see that.

Also, though it annoys me to no end, I am going to start using horizontal rule lines for the scene breaks on this site. I have always found this distracting, because I feel it disrupts the flow of a story to have a complete solid line between scenes. Given recent site changes, I don't have a choice. It also bothers me that I'm now going to have a story with 2 different types of scene break. I'm sure no one else will care, but I'm a perfectionist. Sometime this summer I will hopefully be able to go back and fix the wonky formatting of scene divisions in previous chapters. Until then, blame the site. lol.

* * *

_Obi Wan stirred in the darkness and was out of bed before Padme could say that she would go. Still half asleep, she pushed back the blanket and squinted after the silhouette of her husband, which was only a darker shadow against the ink-black desert night. She slipped her feet to the floor, shivering at the cold touch of the ground on her bare skin. Then without slowing, she rose and hurried after him, her hand moving outward as she reached their bedroom doorway to snatch first robe that her fingers brushed against. It wasn't until the heavy fabric was over her head and she found herself awash in Obi Wan's scent that she realized she'd taken his Jedi cloak instead of her own housecoat._

He paused in the hallway and turned back to her, offering a soft, reassuring smile. "It's all right. Go on back to bed."

She didn't have to ask what the problem was, having sensed their son's distress as soon as he had, and she didn't waste her breath offering an argument now. Her hand slipped onto his arm, and she saw his smile falter briefly in the dim light of the hallway. Then he turned and ducked through the low entrance to the kitchen, where Ani huddled in a chair and seemed far younger and more fragile to Padme than his eight years implied.

Nightmares had not ended for him with the family's flight to Tatooine. They came less frequently as he got older, but there were still nights like this. He didn't want to wake his brother, who shared a room with him, so he would slip silently out of bed and come here to wait for his father. Most of the time, Padme woke as well, though there were nights that she sensed a deep need in Ani to be alone with Obi Wan, and on those nights she would simply lie awake and wait for him to come back to bed. Even when he needed her presence, it was Obi Wan that he turned to for shelter and comfort.

He went to Ani now, kneeling on the floor beside the chair. Ani wrapped his arms around his father's neck. Silently, Obi Wan lifted him from the chair, and Padme watched through tear-filled eyes as her son curled himself around his father. He hid his face against Obi Wan's shoulder and wept without a sound, his body convulsing with pain, grief, and the remembered agony of both the Jedi younglings and the man who slaughtered them.

How could you do this to my son, Anakin? _she thought_. My son!

_She pulled Obi Wan's cloak tighter around her body, shivering more with the pain of what Anakin's betrayal had done to her son than with actual cold. That betrayal sat heavily in her own heart, and it burned deeply when she considered the horrible price it had exacted from her husband, but when she had to stand here like this--face to face with the irrevocable damage that Anakin had done to her child, unable to help or even soothe him-- the volcanoes of Mustafar turned her heart into a place of frigid desolation._My_ son?"_

Obi Wan held Ani for a while, offering the wordless comfort of sound and touch as he waited for the boy's shuddering sobs to subside. Finally, they lessened, and he shifted into a sitting position on the cold kitchen floor, still cradling Ani against his body. Padme moved to kneel beside them, one arm slipping around her husband's shoulder while her other hand came to rest atop their son's hot, sweat-damp hair. His whole small frame quivered and trembled, the heat of exertion coming off of him in waves. Padme's eyes met her husband's in the shadows, and Obi Wan held her gaze, calm and steady until their boy had sobbed himself back into a fitful sleep. Then he smoothly rose from the floor and pressed his lips to Ani's hair as he carried the still clinging child back to bed. Again, she followed after him, watching from the doorway while he settled Ani in bed and pulled the rough gray blanket up around him.

Both were silent as he slipped out of the boys' room, careful not to disturb Luke. Her hand moved back to his shoulder, and she could feel the faintest of trembling there to betray his anguish and belie the Jedi calm he was trying to enforce within himself. She knew that it would crumble soon; perhaps he wouldn't even fight its dissolution once they were alone, so she only let her fingers tighten a little, giving the broad shoulder a supportive squeeze.

He did nothing to acknowledge the gesture, said nothing at all until their bedroom door had swished softly closed behind them. She slipped out of his robe and returned it to the hook while he made his way back to bed.

"I'll have to take him out to the Wastes tomorrow without the twins," he said as he sank down on the edge of the bed. "He'll need time; I'll have to talk to him."

She swallowed hard at the strain in his tone, and nodded once. Then, moving to sit beside him, she took his hand in both of hers and asked, "Do you want me to come? The twins can stay with Beru. She won't mind."

He drew in a breath, taking a long moment before he replied. His free hand drifted up to his mouth and he pressed his fingers against his lips. It was a gesture she'd seen many times. Usually it was thoughtful, considering. Now it seemed more like a futile attempt to keep his voice from breaking. Finally, he only nodded and got to his feet again, walking around to his side of the bed.

"Obi Wan, are you all right?" she asked as they resettled themselves under the covers. When he made no reply, she reached toward him, and she felt the damp warmth of tears as her fingers brushed his cheek.

"How could he do this to my son, Padme?" he asked hoarsely. "

She had no answer. She could only draw his head down onto her shoulder and let him hold on to her as he gave himself up to grief. At least, she thought, pressing her lips against his temple, none of them had to face Darth Vader alone…

When Padme actually woke, she discovered her husband snoring in the bed beside her. She resisted the urge to touch his cheek; he was a light sleeper, and the contact would likely disturb him. Instead she slipped out of bed and found his old cloak, which he still liked better than any of the new clothes they'd gotten on Naboo. She wrapped it around herself, much as she had all those years ago on Tatooine, and walked to the twins' bedroom.

The door slid open, and she leaned in the doorway, watching them sleep for a while. She wanted to go inside and take both boys in her arms, as she had often done with Luke when he was this little. However, like their grandfather, Obi-Too and Junior would have awakened at the slightest touch. So, she contented herself with watching, though the growing tightness in her throat threatened to become tears.

The room was still largely a mess. She and Obi Wan had at least insisted upon a decent walking path through the mechanical debris, but otherwise they had decided to leave it alone. There would be no hope of actually inducing the boys to keep the room clean until their gift for Bail was complete--and then she suspected that there would be other projects to keep it in disarray after that. Neither she nor Obi Wan had the time to stay after them about clean rooms the way they might have done for their own children. They had, of course, had Junior's bed fixed, and both boys were asleep there now, curled around each other like cats and softly snoring.

The sight should have brought a smile to her face, but she was still too caught up in the memory of her dream and the fresh grief it sparked in her. She knew that Ani might have been far more severely damaged by the temple siege and what he had seen of the Mustafar duel in his dreams. He could have grown into an unbalanced, fearful, and distrusting adult—or one so consumed by anger that the boy he had been was completely unrecognizable. She was glad that those things hadn't happened. Owen and Beru's influence had as much to do with what he became as anything that she and Obi Wan had done. She would always be grateful to the Lars' for that, and she tried not to focus on what had been lost, but she could see so much of Ani in the happy, gregarious twins…except that there were times when Obi-Too and Junior were not so different from their father…

"Are you all right?" asked a soft voice behind her.

She jumped a little, turning toward the sound of her husband's voice. "Did I wake you?"

"Mmm," he said, his hand moving to her shoulder. "What's wrong, darling?"

"Just a dream," she shrugged, covering his hand with her own.

"About what?" he wanted to know.

"Ani," she sighed. "He was always such a happy boy before--"

He nodded as she broke off. Neither one of them really needed to complete the statement. His only response was a heavy sigh, and he let his eyes move away from her to their grandsons.

"Sometimes I wish I'd left him on Naboo with my parents," she confessed.

"When?" his tone was faintly startled.

"When I went back to Coruscant the last time. Mom wanted him to stay behind, but he wanted to come with me. He said he'd promised you that he would take care of me," she explained.

"I never meant for him to be in harm's way," he said.

"I know. That's why I wish I'd listened to Mom," she told him.

"He'd have been killed if he'd stayed on Naboo," said Obi Wan dismissively.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"Palpatine would have known where he was. He would have sent Clone Troopers--or Vader might have found him, which would have been…worse," Obi Wan's voice was tight as he said the word.

"He would've made Ani his apprentice, wouldn't he?"

"Most likely."

"You were right, you know," she said with sudden harshness that surprised herself. What surprised her more was that she realized she meant it.

"About what?"

"During the Blockade Crisis when you tried to explain to me why it was too dangerous to train him. You were right. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," she told him.

"I wasn't," he shook his head. "The Jedi failed Anakin as much as he failed us. His training could have been very different. And you were right too. He had a good heart."

"Did he?"

"Do you really need to ask that?" he sighed.

"Look at what he's done. What he's still doing."

"I don't have an easy answer. All I know is, there is still good in him. You and Ani were always the ones who believed that," he pointed out.

"I know. I just find it hard to remember that when I think about our boy. And now Shmi--knowing who he is will have consequences for her," she said. "I don't want Vader's legacy poisoning another generation of Kenobi children. I don't want to see the twins choked off by him too."

"Well," he replied. "We'll do everything we can to protect them. Beyond that, it's out of our hands."

"I'm not sure that's a good enough answer anymore," she sighed, leaning back against the support of his body.

"Padme, Anakin Skywalker has a legacy too."

She drew in a sharp breath and let it flow out of her again in a deep, tired sigh. "I know he does. I don't want them to forget it any more than you do."

"Then let's be sure we don't forget," he said, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"We won't," she nodded.

* * *

Even in his hyperbaric chamber, the Dark Lord did not sleep. Outside the chamber, there was constant pain; the incessant rasp of his breather; unpredictable bursts of static and feedback from his cochlear implants; and implacable weight of his helmet, not to mention the unnatural shape that the thing forced his face into. Inside the chamber, there was still constant pain and malfunctioning implants. Instead of the breather's mechanical hiss there was the babble of voices in his memory. Some of them screamed and pleaded for mercy. Some of them--the Jedi Younglings that he had slaughtered--were too terrified to scream and could only cry. One of them, farther back than the siege on the temple, was laughing again. He hated that voice more than any of the others, especially when it laughed.

_You did it, Anakin!_ that voice would exclaim, laughing with pure relief and an inexpressible gratitude. _You saved my son!_


	158. A Natural Progression

Ani and Luke continued their discussion as they made their way home, breaking off only when they reached the house to find Jareth, Yoda, and Isaly in the yard outside. It wasn't so much their presence which startled the two young Jedi, but the strange sight of Jareth. Rather than being engaged in the exercises that Ani had given him, he was doing a handstand in the mud with Yoda balanced quite calmly on the boy's foot. The meditation exercise was familiar to them, of course, but when Obi Wan had put them to it, there had never been a diminutive green being in Jedi robes balancing on their upraised feet. The position had been awkward and hard to maintain for them as adolescents, _without_ the added weight and mass of Yoda on one side. Ani wasn't sure whether Jareth's youth would be an advantage or a disadvantage in this particular task. Children's minds tended to be more flexible, and the idea was to let the Force accomplish the balancing rather than to struggle for one's own balance.

Isaly was watching from one side, the datapad in her hand completely forgotten as Yoda coaxed Jareth into raising his right hand off the ground. She glanced toward the boys as they approached, grinning excitedly. Luke readily returned the expression, but Ani frowned thoughtfully and crossed his arms, circling Jareth with curious consideration. He wouldn't have tried this with Jareth yet, but the boy was succeeding…

Jareth craned his neck to peer up at his Master with a grin of his own. "How m'I doin' Mast--whoa!"

"Whoaa!" cried Yoda at the same time.

With his concentration broken by Ani's approach, Jareth toppled to one side, spilling the ancient Jedi Master unceremoniously into the mud. He rolled into a sitting position, his face bright red with chagrin as he peered from Ani to Yoda.

"Um. Oops?"

Yoda pulled himself out of the mud and adjusted his robe with an air of great dignity, grumbling, "Hrrm! Hrrm!"

Isaly buried her face in her hands to stifle her giggles, but didn't actually try to _stop_ laughing. Admirably, Luke managed to turn his own amusement into a sudden, loud and slightly protracted cough, and then pressed his fist to his lips. Ani hunkered down to be on eye level with his young apprentice and planted his chin on his fist. Then he offered a small half-smile.

"I'd say your concentration needs some work," he said.

"Indeed!" agreed Yoda with a beckoning gesture at Jareth. "Come. Come. Begin again."

"Yes, Master," the boy scrambled to his feet.

Ani and Luke moved over to sit on either side of Isaly while Yoda and Jareth positioned themselves again. Ani brushed his lips against his wife's neck, then peered questioningly at the datapad that was resting on her knee. She followed his glance, then picked it up and offered it to him.

"I've mapped the relevant neuropathways based on what you told me about your last vision of Vader," she said, tapping the screen to activate a small holodisplay. Ani studied it for a few minutes, then nodded as the images sank into his memory, becoming a part of his awareness that he could call up in totality when the time came. There were other charts and diagrams as well, all of which he and Isaly reviewed every night until the visualizations had become second nature to him.

"What are the markings?" he asked, indicating the small triangular marks at various locations along the outlined paths.

"Opioid receptors and trigger points for endorphin release," explained Isaly. "They'll help block pain receptors if you need a localized desensitization, but you'll need to access the pain centers directly in the beginning like we talked about. Pain that's gone on as long as this has causes permanent chemical changes along certain pathways that will take time even for a Force healer to repair."

"If it can be done at all," Ani said, pressing his fingers to his lips in thought.

"Dad's always saying it's a question of belief more than anything else," Luke spoke up automatically.

"He's right. But a Jedi healer doesn't impose his will on the body through the Force. There are natural limits to what can be done within a living system, be it a person or a planet," Ani said.

"You're learning Jedi Healing?" Luke frowned.

"Not really," Ani shook his head then smiled slightly. "But Master Yoda did pick up a thing or two during all his years as Grand Master."

Luke nodded and leaned back against the tree trunk behind him. Ani and Isaly returned to discussing her research, but Ani saw that his brother's attention kept alternating between Jareth and Yoda's activities and their discussion. Luke didn't venture any further commentary, though, so Ani left him to his thoughts. He supposed that they would have to have a talk about Vader soon; he couldn't imagine that his brother's feelings about helping Anakin had been resolved. He wouldn't push the subject, though. He felt that since it was Luke's concern, he should allow Luke time to consider and give him the opportunity to broach the matter himself. They were Jedi, after all, and Jedi didn't rush hastily into confrontation of any kind, even amicable debate.

* * *

"Have you heard from Han and Leia?" Bail asked as he and Obi Wan traversed the wide white halls of Ackbar's flagship. With the exception of Luke, all the rest of the stragglers had finally filtered in to the Fleet. A few days ago, Rogue Group had officially been re-named Rogue Squadron, and its ranks had been filled out with pilots hand-picked for the elite team by Wedge Antilles, who had been promoted to full commander and given acting command of the Rogues in Luke's absence. There were beginning to be whispers about a Rogue-led rescue mission, but the rumors, of course, failed to take into account that no one had the slightest idea where the _Millennium Falcon_ was.

"Not yet, but I know Han. If he wanted us to know where he was, we'd have heard _something_ by now," said Obi Wan.

Bail nodded, apparently willing to accept the statement for the time being, although Obi Wan knew that this kind of inaction in regard to Leia's welfare never sat well with him. The truth was that Obi Wan agreed with him, but he saw no alternative at the moment.

"Han's gotten them out of some impossible situations before," Bail allowed.

"That he has," Obi Wan nodded with an affectionate smile for their future son-in-law.

Bail stroked his mustache with the tips of his right thumb and forefinger, a small smile twitching over his lips. "Would you have believed it three years ago if someone had told you that Solo was going to be a Kenobi?""

Obi Wan laughed. "I expect to be surprised by Han Solo. But no, I don't think I would have. Ani and Luke certainly wouldn't have when they met him."

"Oh?"

"Didn't I tell you? Ani sent Han's chair spinning around the _Falcon's_ hold with him in it after Han made some comment to the effect that the Force was nothing but slight of hand and parlor tricks," Obi Wan related.

"Ani?" Bail's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Obi Wan smiled. "He doesn't let it out very often, but he has quite a mischievous streak. I think he learned it from my--Anakin."

The name fell heavily between them, and the two men paused, both glancing down at their worn boots and the white floor which was so very much like one they had stood upon at the end of the Clone Wars. They were nearing Bail's personal quarters then, so he took the lead, bringing them the rest of the way. Once there, he smiled again.

"I have some good Corellian ale inside."

"You're joking."

"Han brought it in a while ago."

"I don't suppose he brought any Jawa Juice," Obi Wan asked.

"He said he didn't think Padme would approve," Bail shook his head.

"As if that would actually stop him from doing anything," Obi Wan rubbed his eyes. "Well, I can't right now, I have to get the twins before they drive Wedge completely insane, but I may take you up on that later."

"Very well," Bail nodded as the door slid open.

Obi Wan started to walk away then turned back, raising his finger as if he had just remembered something. "Oh. I'm supposed to tell you that you're invited to dinner tomorrow night."

"I thought I was always invited to dinner," Bail said.

"Well, you are, of course, but this is different," Obi Wan smiled.

"Different?"

"It will apparently be a formal dinner," he explained.

"Formal?"

"The twins have something planned," Obi Wan told him with a light shrug.

"Dare I ask?" Bail smiled.

"I make it a point never to ask," replied Obi Wan.

"Safer that way," nodded Bail. "All right. I'll be there."

"Good," Obi Wan smiled in return. He managed to keep his expression fairly stable until he had turned away and started up the hall again, but when he heard Bail's door slide shut and was sure that his old friend was safely out of earshot, a chuckle escaped his lips, and his smile became decidedly amused.

A short time later, he found the twins assisting Wedge and Hobbie with some minor repairs to their X-Wings. At least, he hoped they were helping. The Rebellion's repair crews were stretched thin, and capable pilots often completed routine maintenance and small repair tasks on their own crafts. The twins loved to feel useful as members of the Rebellion, and with their penchant for mechanics, this was a natural place for them. The Rogues rarely minded this sort of aid, either from them or Shmi, but sometimes the children's curiosity got the better of them. The pilots, being busy and occupied with their own tasks, didn't always spot their less than beneficial activities until it was too late.

"G'apa!" Obi-Too looked up from where he was perched atop the hull of Wedge's craft, waving with a hydrospanner still in his hand.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," he waved back, feeling the same quiet flush of pride he always experienced when speaking this child's name.

Junior, who was standing on Hobbie's fighter in the adjacent bay, didn't bother with a greeting at all but raced to the edge of the hull and leapt off just as his grandfather shouted an admonition about no Force jumping. Hobbie and Wedge both let out loud yelps, more of surprise than worry, and the boy landed, wobbled a bit, and clutched Obi Wan's outstretched hand for support.

"What did I say about Force jumping?" Obi Wan asked pointedly.

Junior looked up at him with a puzzled frown. "I only jump, G'apa."

"No one can jump that far without the Force."

"Oh…" his frown deepened and he wrinkled his nose at this information.

"Next time, use the ladder like your--" Obi Wan broke off midsentence as his namesake, who had been about to start climbing down the ladder in front of Wedge's fighter to reach them, swung himself outward from the top rung, hooked his ankles around the metal rails and _slid_ to the bottom with a thump.

"Oomph!" he grunted, then dashed over to join his twin. He threw his arms around Obi Wan's waist, giving his grandfather an exuberantly enthusiastic hug.

"Oh, I give up," Obi Wan sighed, his hand moving to stroke the boy's hair.

Both twins simply grinned at him.


	159. Possible Futures

"We miss you, G'apa," Obi-Too said solemnly, gratified as his namesake's expression softened. Junior nodded in agreement. Obi-Too pulled back, peering hopefully up at the wizened face of their grandfather. Neither of the twins had meant to be disobedient. They could be, of course, but they had no desire to upset Obi Wan now. Their excitement at seeing him and eagerness to hear whether Uncle Bail had agreed to the dinner plan had just gotten the better of them. They _knew_ how to climb and jump without falling; it hadn't occurred to either of them that these things might be naughty.

Obi Wan allowed them a brief smile. "Yes, I've missed you too. But no more of that."

The twins glanced at each other and shrugged. "Okay."

Wedge and Hobbie were clambering down the ladders by then. The two pilots quickstepped over to the cluster of Kenobis, both with poorly concealed grins behind their hands. The twins, of course, didn't need to see their mouths in order to register their amusement and took it as tacit permission to laugh.

"Was Luke this much trouble, sir?" Wedge wanted to know.

"Not quite," Obi Wan replied. "Leia, however, was an entirely different matter."

"You talk to Uncle Bail, G'apa?" Junior asked at the mention of his aunt.

"Yes, I did, Junior," nodded Obi Wan. "Mission accomplished."

"Dinner's on for tomorrow night then?" asked Hobbie.

"Yep," Junior nodded emphatically, his blond hair bouncing as he did so.

"'Member, boys," Obi-Too admonished the pilots, looking from one to the other in what he very much hoped was a credible imitation of his Uncle Luke. "Dress uniforms."

"Grandma say it's _ver-y im-por-tant!_" added Junior with another nod. Both of the twins knew quite well that no member of Rogue Squadron would disregard Padme's orders, and as they expected, both men gave deferential nods.

Hobbie then excused himself to Obi Wan and his commander, making the boys promise to come back and finish helping him the next afternoon. The twins, of course, readily agreed, eager to be of help now that their project for Bail was complete. Obi Wan patted him lightly on the shoulder as he walked off, then he looked speculatively back at Wedge.

"How's the new command, Wedge?" he asked casually.

"Well, sir, I'm not sure it sits well on me," replied the pilot.

"Why not?"

"This is Luke's command," Wedge shrugged. "Always has been."

"Son, Luke isn't here. Someone needs to lead the Rogues, and you were his second-in-command," Obi Wan pointed out.

"Luke's coming back soon, isn't he?" Wedge asked.

"Of course he is. And until he gets here, he needs someone he trusts to step up and command Rogue Squadron. I know my son, Wedge. There is no one else he would choose," Obi Wan replied.

"Yes, sir," Wedge nodded. "Thank you, General."

Obi Wan inclined his head in a gesture of acknowledgement. Wedge laid a hand on each of the twins' heads, thanked them for their help, and went back to work. Then the twins each slipped a hand into one of their grandfather's and let him lead them off the deck. Another time, they might have set the pace and pulled him along, but they were in no great hurry to get home, and they both enjoyed the relatively short amount of time that they had with his undivided attention.

"Well, it seems you boys have had a full day," he remarked.

"We like helping," Junior grinned.

"I know you do," Obi Wan nodded.

"We gonna be Rogues," Obi-Too announced.

"Are you really?" asked their grandfather.

Both of them nodded firmly.

"Couldn't you think of anything _else_ you'd like to be?" Obi Wan asked with a note of hope in his voice.

"No…?" the twins replied in unison.

"I thought not," Obi Wan let out a long sigh. "All right then, you can be Rogues. But you have to promise me that you'll try not to fly upside down."

"Upside down?" Junior screwed up his face into a puzzled expression as he peered at his grandfather.

"Once, a long time ago, there was a young Jedi who liked to fly very much," began Obi Wan. "He was my apprentice."

"Uncle Luke?" Junior asked.

"No," Obi Wan shook his head. "Before Uncle Luke."

"Uncle Anakin!" Obi-Too exclaimed excitedly.

"That's right. And he would always fly himself into impossible situations. Into places where no ship had any business going," Obi Wan said with a nod.

"Upside down?" Junior asked again.

"Sometimes, yes. It made me ill just looking at him," their grandfather said.

"Sounds fun!" Junior beamed.

"No, it doesn't," Obi Wan told him mock-sternly.

"Yes, it does…" the twins sang.

Their grandfather groaned softly and the twins giggled. Shaking his head, Obi Wan thought for a few seconds, then said, "Have you considered becoming politicians like your grandmother?"

The boys stared at him.

"I can't believe I said that," Obi Wan blinked. "Nevermind."

"Boring anyway," Junior shook his head.

"What about mechanics or engineers?" Obi Wan suggested.

"Why?" Obi-Too frowned.

"You could build things all day," Obi Wan told him. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Still like takin' things apart better," said Obi-Too.

Junior nodded in vigorous agreement. "More fun that way!"

"Why?" their grandfather asked with interest.

Both boys wrinkled their brows and looked at one another in consideration of the question. Neither of them had ever thought to ask themselves _why_ they liked to take things apart. They just did. Now, with the question put to them, even Obi-Too, who tended to be able to voice their thoughts and feelings in a way that adults could comprehend, found no ready answer. He shrugged.

"Well, what kinds of things do you take apart?" Obi Wan asked patiently.

"New things," Obi-Too scratched his brow thoughtfully with the fingers of his free hand.

"And what do you see when you take apart something new?" inquired their grandfather with a half smile.

"Insides," shrugged Junior. "How it work."

"I see," nodded their grandfather. "And when you understand how something works, it isn't new anymore."

"Not much fun then," Junior bobbled his head.

"Well," said Obi Wan, "When you understand how things work, you can use pieces of them to make new things. Like you did for your Uncle Bail. Or fix things the way you helped Wedge and Hobbie today."

"It's harder," Junior said.

"Yes, I suppose so," agreed their grandfather. "But nothing worth doing can be done in haste."

"Like Grandma," Obi-Too said thoughtfully.

"What about Grandma?"

"Grandma take ten years to marry you," Junior explained, giggling.

"Oh, yes. That. Well, remember now, there are exceptions to every rule."

The boys mulled this statement over for the rest of the trip home, where they had expected to find Padme waiting with lunch. The family's quarters were, in fact, empty, and they cast puzzled frowns up at their grandfather. He didn't seem overly concerned.

"Grandma must still be talking to Mon Mothma," he said, releasing their hands. "Go on in the 'fresher and clean up. I'll make lunch."

"You?" Junior stared at him.

"I can make lunch once in a while, you know. Unless you'd like to wait for Grandma, but I have no idea when she's coming."

The boys turned to one another, considering this. Their grandfather was good at many things, but neither of them could recall having seen him complete such a mundane task as making lunch. He and Uncle Bail had put dinner on the table for them once when they first came to the Fleet, but that had come from containers of leftovers, and he'd had _help_. Besides which, lunch and dinner were entirely different. For the twins, there was something profoundly disconcerting about the notion of _Obi Wan Kenobi_, the great Republic general and Jedi Master, doing something as commonplace as making _lunch._

Obi Wan waved them toward the 'fresher, and they finally shrugged, wandering off in that direction. Fortunately, just as they went inside, they heard the apartment door slide open. They could feel that their grandmother's temper was up, which struck them as unusual.

Junior walked back to the doorway, poking his head into the living room just as their grandfather leaned down to kiss her. He paused with his hands on her shoulders, pulled back, and looked into her eyes. Obi-Too peered over his brother's shoulder, frowning uneasily at the shift they both sensed in their grandfather's feelings.

"What's the matter?" Obi Wan asked.

* * *

"Ackbar and Mon think we should send the twins away from the Fleet," Padme replied shortly.

Obi Wan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

"Some of the commanders are apparently uneasy with children being kept aboard military vessels," she explained, crossing her arms.

"And where in the galaxy do they suggest we _send_ them?" he asked. "These aren't ordinary children. The Emperor is looking for them. Specifically them."

"Ackbar says he could arrange for them to stay on Mon Calamari. He thinks they'd be safe if we hid them there," she said.

"No," he said with finality. "Not unless we're all going."

"You're needed here."

"I'm aware of that, darling. And that's exactly why the twins are not leaving," he replied.

She nodded and sank slowly onto the couch. "They're not going to like it."

"That bothers you?" he asked.

"No," she said slowly. "But to be fair, there are plenty of others who've had to leave families behind. They suggest that I go with them for the time being; it wouldn't be like sending them alone, splitting up the family again."

"Absolutely not."

As soon as he spoke the words, the twins themselves burst out of the 'fresher, both wailing loud protests as they hurled themselves onto the couch on either side of Padme. They buried their faces in the folds of her dress, and if Obi Wan had had any doubts about his position on the matter, their clinging, desperate fear would have erased them.

"No, no, no leave!"

"We be good boys! We help!"

Padme met her husband's gaze with tears in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around them, leaving off the discussion to comfort and reassure them. Blinking to contain his own emotion, Obi Wan knelt in front of the couch and placed a hand on each of their heads.

"Boys, listen to me," he began, carefully holding his voice steady. Their tearful pleas continued despite both grandparents' efforts to soothe them. Finally, he spoke again, adding a note of authority this time. "Obi-Wan, Anakin. Listen to Grandpa. No one is going to send you away from us."

At last, they looked up and turned to face him with tears streaming flushed red faces. They spoke together, in a tremulous, faintly eerie whisper. "We stay with you?"

"No matter what happens," he nodded gravely. "We will _all_ be together."

"Daddy and Mama too?" Junior asked plaintively.

Obi Wan sighed sadly. "Someday, I promise. I don't know when, but I hope it will be soon. Until then, Grandma and I are _not_ going to leave you behind or send you away."

This satisfied them enough that they settled against Padme, though still clinging, and both closed their eyes. She tightened her arms around them, rocking them gently, and kissed away the trails of tears on their cheeks. Obi Wan stayed where he was, since his position on the floor allowed him to comfortably reach both of them, and waited for her to meet his gaze again.

"I won't do this to them. I won't keep shuffling them from place to place, having people come in and out of their lives. Besides, if the Emperor discovered where you all were, you would have no defense on Mon Calamari without me. If he discovers the location of the Fleet, we have a chance. Either we all go or we all stay, but we do it together."


	160. Living

It had rained on Dagobah for a full day and night. Isaly stood leaning in the doorway, tightly wrapped in both her own cloak and Ani's spare one. The cold and damp didn't seem to affect him as much anymore. She wasn't sure if that was the result of his Jedi training or some natural predisposition to cooler, wetter climates than the desert. He'd grown up on Tatooine for most of his life, but unlike Isaly, he hadn't been born there. He had memories of other places, and Naboo in particular was a water-rich planet where the air was cool and comparatively moisture-laden. She knew that her own ability to cope with climate changes was growing. There had been a time when she wouldn't have even stood in the open like this, but she had learned to adapt and deal with her discomfort, even if she couldn't alleviate it.

Resting her head on the side of the doorframe, she closed her eyes as the wet wind seeped through her skin and settled in her bones. That didn't bother her as much as it used to either, mostly because of the other things she'd had to adapt to. Even with Jareth here, the absence of her children was a crushing weight within her that could only be ignored and hidden behind work for so long. She felt silence now in a way that she couldn't have even imagined, and cold was an ever-present reality that had nothing to do with the temperature. Silence was the absence of running feet or the soft sounds of the twins' thumb sucking. Cold was the longing for them to be curled up with her at night or for her daughter's hand in hers. At least when she stood shivering in the rain, she knew she was alive.

She tried not to think about the things that she was missing. The twins were probably talking in full sentences now and chattering their grandparents' ears off. It had been a difficult task for her to keep a reign on their mischief even with Yoda to occupy them. Obi Wan and Padme would likely be driven to their wits' end. They had raised children of their own, of course. They'd had to deal with an energetic, Force sensitive pair of twins the same age that Obi-Too and Junior were now, but they weren't as young as they used to be, and this time they wouldn't have Beru and Owen to help them.

Sudden tears stung her eyes at the thought of the Lars'. She hadn't known when she met them how much a part of her heart that old couple would become, but they were like her--desert people. She hadn't always agreed with Owen, but she understood him, sometimes better than Ani could despite all the time that the two of them had spent together. Padme and Obi Wan had made her welcome on the farm, but Beru had helped her adjust to life there in many quiet, practical ways that had been just as important to her as her mother-in-law's acceptance and intellectual encouragement.

She slowly raised her right hand to swipe at the few stray tears which leaked down her face, then she shook her head. Their deaths still seemed so senseless. Homesteaders on Tatooine were not especially known for openness toward strangers. Their life was a difficult one--not without its pleasures and rewards, but also a kind of life that rarely provided excess of anything. Most times, strangers couldn't grasp or cope with the necessities of desert life. They became a liability during hard times. Yet, Beru and Owen had opened their home and their lives to shelter a family of strangers. With no kids of their own, they had provided the Kenobi children with security, taught them to live and work on Tatooine, given them a livelihood, and helped their parents instill foundational values and a powerful work ethic. Owen may have grumbled, but neither of them had truly questioned whether it was their responsibility to do so. When Isaly had once asked Beru why, she smiled and said only that Shmi Skywalker would have done the same thing, and they'd both wanted to see how a certain story about a Jedi Padawan and a comlink turned out.

In return for their selflessness and loyalty, they had been killed. The painfully ironic aspect of their deaths was that Darth Vader bore the responsibility for it. He had been hunting for Leia in order to retrieve the plans that she had hidden inside Artoo. Later, realizing what she must have done, Vader sent his stormtroopers down to the planet's surface to find the droids--who were, by that time, safely in the hands of Luke, Ani, and Obi Wan. Never having asked for anything in return for sharing their lives, Beru and Owen Lars lost their lives for nothing.

_Not for nothing,_ she admitted with a mental sigh. Their deaths had bought the time that the Kenobis needed to get the droids off Tatooine. Still, they hadn't deserved what happened to them, and Isaly shrank inside when she considered how Shmi Skywalker would have felt if she had known about Beru and Owen's deaths.

Ani talked about wanting to go back to Tatooine and make the farm workable again, but she wasn't sure how they could do that. It was and had always been the _Lars'_ farm. What would it be now, with them gone? How could they return there, raise another generation of Kenobi children on ground blackened by Imperial blasters and stained with the blood of the people who had bequeathed it to them?

Then again, wasn't that precisely what Beru and Owen would have wanted them to do? Wasn't it even what they would have expected? There _was_ no one else to carry on their legacy. They had _given_ the farm to Ani because they knew that it was what Ani wanted, just as they had also been prepared to help Luke get to the Academy when the time came. If Ani and Isaly _didn't_ go back to Tatooine, if the homestead continued to lie in ruins, how would Beru and Owen's sacrifice really come to mean anything?

Of course, at the moment, all of this was irrelevant. None of them could go back to Tatooine. She and Ani wouldn't even be the ones raising their children at all until Vader and the Emperor had been dealt with. By the time that happened, the twins might not even remember her. Hadn't Shmi already chosen to stay with Han and Leia rather than come back to Dagobah when she had the chance?

Isaly understood that decision. Under the circumstances, she probably would have made the same choice that her daughter had. Shmi was used to being at the hub of the Kenobi family, aware of and part of everyone's daily concerns, sharing the excitements, the struggles, the tedious waits, the quiet moments of closeness, the pain, and the explosive joy that all came as being a part of this particular family. Han was both a mentor and a father figure to her, and they had developed a mutual dependence on one another whether Han realized it or not. She was a sensitive child even if she didn't seem to possess her father's hyper-empathic powers, and if Isaly, who had no real gift in the Force, could tell that Leia still needed a concrete source of grounding in her identity as a member of the family, Shmi also must have been able to feel that on some intuitive level. Furthermore, her grandparents and Luke were not only familiar but vitally important to her sense of security and wellbeing. Ani and Isaly were, too, of course. No child should have to endure this kind of forced separation from caring and supportive parents. Still, Shmi had already been violently uprooted when Beru and Owen died and the family was forced to flee from Tatooine. After that, the family itself--all of it, not just her mother and father--was the only home she knew. If a choice had to be made between separating from her parents and going away from literally every other person or thing that she knew and counted on, then it was more than understandable that she would want to stay with Han and Leia. Isaly and Ani, in turn, felt that the responsible thing to do was to allow her to stay where they knew she would be happiest. In the end, thanks to Vader, that decision had also turned out to be the safest.

What rankled, really, was the necessity that such a choice should have to be made at all. It felt bitterly unfair to her--especially given the fact that Obi Wan and Padme had already been faced with a similar decision regarding _their_ children. The specifics of that situation were markedly different. Luke and Leia's lives had not been in danger on Tatooine. Their reasons for deciding to send the twins to Alderaan had to do with providing them with broader social and educational opportunities than what would be available to them as the supposed children of moisture farmers. The plan to send Ani to Dagobah had been rooted in the same concerns, although no one but Obi Wan had ever really been convinced that Yoda would make a better mentor for him than his father could. In end, only one of their children had been sent away. As far as Isaly was concerned, the results were the same. The emotions involved, both when it came to the process of decision making and in the face of the day to day consequences of the separation, were similar enough that to attempt to pinpoint differences would have been ludicrous. There were no such things as degrees of missing out on the raising of one's children.

Like Ani and Isaly, Obi Wan and Padme had wrestled with conflicting needs and desires. Basic human parental instinct said that one's children should be kept at one's side until they were old enough to care for themselves. External forces complicated matters, either making that impossible or dictating that it could only be done at the expense of some other, possibly more important motivation. It was a parent's responsibility to provide a safe environment--both physically and emotionally. Parents had to prepare their children to live and function within a broader society. Even in peace time, it was not always possible to provide all those things and still keep a child at one's side. Shmi Skywalker was a perfect example of that reality. War changed all the usual rules and altered the norms and mores associated with the internal dynamics of family. Now, two generations of Kenobi children and two separate generations of Kenobi parents were still suffering as a result.

Not everything that these wars had wrought was ugly. Isaly could readily see that when she considered what her family had become since leaving Tatooine. Even before that, the events leading up to the Clone Wars had been what finally brought Obi Wan and Padme together. Where would they all be now without the Battle of Geonosis? In the same way, without the Rebellion, Han and Chewie would never have met up with Dad and the boys in Mos Eisley, and how much richer were all of their lives for that meeting? Luke would never have flown with the Rogues, which would have meant that all the men he now valued so much as comrades and friends would never have shared a meal at Padme's table. Leia would have had no opportunity or reason to form the unique bond she shared with Bail Organa, which was entirely different than the affection and respect that Ani had for him based on the relationship they'd had when he was a boy. Ani would never have taken Jareth as an apprentice, and the two were as close now as any father and son Isaly had ever known.

Then again, without the war, Alderaan would still exist. Bail would have no need of a surrogate family or, eventually, an adoptive homeworld. Leia would have had an ordinary relationship with parents who loved her, and Padme could have been every bit as capable a mentor for her in the political arena as Mon Mothma became during the time she'd spent on Alderaan. Jareth would still be on Ecarua with his mother. Han and Chewie--well, they would probably be worse off, honestly, and she was still glad that Luke had met his friends. Yet, even if she considered that she and Ani might never have met if his parents hadn't been forced into hiding on Tatooine, could the unexpected, powerful bonds that the war had created between members of the Kenobi family and the adoptees they took in really outweigh all the destruction that the fighting had done?


	161. Broken Memories

Leia sat alone in the cockpit, her mother's journal on her knee, lost in thought. The index finger of her right hand rested against her lower lip while her left hand ran absently over the console in front of her. Except for a few blinking indicator lights, everything was dark and still. Han had shut down all but the emergency power in order to make it more difficult for the Empire to find them, and a chill was beginning to settle over the _Falcon._

Her mother had been on Tatooine when writing the entry that Leia had just read, but something had spurred Padme to reflection about the brief, hectic month between the Battle of Geonosis and her wedding. It seemed to be the single time in her parents' early lives that they had been afforded the simple luxury of uninterrupted time together. Sadly, even then, the shadow of the Clone Wars had loomed over them. Both of them had known that, sooner or later, Obi Wan would be called upon to defend the Republic in battle, and Padme's political war to protect its ideals had been an ever present fact.

It still was. It was Leia's fight, too, now, although both she and her mother had been forced to adopt the military tactics that Padme had struggled so hard to avoid prior to the passage of Military Creation Act. There had been many in the Republic who erroneously believed that her pacifist stance was a sign of cowardice or naïveté. No one could make that mistake where Leia was concerned, but she wasn't any less committed to lasting peace.

It occurred to her that neither of her parents had really stopped fighting to achieve that peace in almost thirty years. Yes, they had spent long years of relative contentment on Tatooine, but the presence of the Empire had hung over them like the deadly still before a sandstorm. Palpatine and the need to confront him had never been far from their thoughts. Padme talked about the changes in Ani's personality after the temple siege; her own fears of discovery, either by Palpatine or Vader; the quiet sadness that filled Obi Wan when he thought of his lost friends, especially Anakin. She wrote extensively about her own sense of aching incompletion after Leia left for Alderaan.

Those passages were particularly difficult for Leia to read. She felt that loss in her own life as a cold void: a heavy, empty sensation where arguments with her brothers, grumbling over farm chores, family meals, and her mother's touch and scent should have been. Padme wrote of often feeling as if she was wading through her life with heavy weights strapped to her wrists and ankles. Reading of how that water of anguish seemed to rise a bit more with each month of separation made Leia's cold void suddenly flare into hot resentment.

Even now, that same cycle was being perpetuated through two more generations of Kenobis. Shmi had her memories, of course, but she would never be able to get back the years she had spent without her parents. She wasn't alone or even consciously lonely most of the time--but Leia hadn't been either. There had always been Bail, and there was Winter who had been like a sister to her, but part of her had still known that she was somehow different, that there was something missing from her life. Shmi had always had a close bond with her grandparents and especially with Obi Wan. In recent years, she had spent most of her time with Han and Chewie, and by association, with Leia. When she wasn't with them on the _Falcon_ or involved in their current mission--which more often than not included Luke and the Rogues--all of them stayed close to Obi Wan and Padme. By virtue of their mentor/student relationship, Han had become in some ways a surrogate father to her, and Leia naturally found herself in a maternal role, both because of _her_ relationship with Han and the fact that she was Shmi's aunt. She adored her Uncle Luke, having grown up close to him on Tatooine, and now she had a whole squadron of his friends and comrades ready to give her attention and affection. For all that, though, Leia knew that none of them could take the place of Shmi's parents.

She wondered, too, how Isaly was coping with the separation from her children. If the absence of one child had so profoundly affected Padme, how much more must Isaly be hurt by the forced separation from _all_ of her children. Leia knew that Isaly and Padme had grown quite close since Isaly had come to the farm. She had connected strongly with her mother-in-law and had come to regard the older woman as both a parental figure and a mentor. So, like Padme, Isaly would probably display very little of her emotional struggle where anyone could see. Privately, however, she must be suffering greatly.

Circumstances had not allowed for contact between Dagobah and the Fleet before. Leia still wasn't sure that such communication was wise. Yoda's whereabouts were best kept hidden, and Vader was actively searching for Ani now. Transmissions could be intercepted, and while she suspected that Ani and Obi Wan could probably reach each other through the Force at any distance if the need was great enough, that was no help to her with regard to helping Isaly. She couldn't say exactly why she felt this sudden, intense need to do something to ease her sister-in-law's longing and worry about her kids. Perhaps it was because reading Padme's journal had been stirring up her own feelings lately. She believed with growing conviction that separating young children from caring parents was inevitably harmful to everyone involved.

Of course, there were times when those separations were necessary. Ani and Isaly had been given no viable alternative. Padme and Obi Wan's decision had been the best one they could make for their daughter under the circumstances, and Leia had been the one who made the final choice in any case. That didn't make the resulting situations any more tenable, though, and Leia thought there must be some way to minimize the effects of the separation. She and her parents would never be able to regain the time that they had lost, and she didn't want to see Isaly or her children going through the same emotions.

_You may not have as much time as you think. And even if you do, you'll regret wasting it,_ her father's statement came unbidden to her thoughts.

When had that been? She frowned, searching her memory in order to place the moment, and a scene began to expand in her mind. They on Yavin 4 in her parents' quarters, just before the evacuation. He'd been reading a letter from her mother, while she and Han--she cut off the thought with a tired sigh, rubbing her eyes.

He'd been talking about Han, urging her not to push him away, not to waste the time they had. Leia just read her mother's journal entry about the Battle of Geonosis, and Han had been impressed with his response to Padme's declaration of love. Well, half declaration. She hadn't quite managed to get the words out between the monsters in the arena, the battle-droids, and the arrival of the Clone Army.

With a reluctant smile, she picked up the journal again. She'd flagged that particular entry after reading it, so it didn't take long to find. Knowing her parents so much better now than she had the first time she read it, she could picture the exchange quite clearly, with Padme determined to _finally_ voice her feelings and Obi Wan smoothly calling over, "I know." She had to admit that Han was right about the humor of it, but more than that, she found it poignantly telling of the relationship her parents shared. Her mother's retelling of the events only reinforced the notion for her. Softly, her smile widening, she read the words again.

_"Overnight it seems the galaxy has been changed forever. I should be frightened, but I can't be. Obi Wan tracked the bounty hunter who was trying to kill me to Kamino and followed him from there to Geonosis, where he also discovered a droid army about to be delivered to the Separatists. He was captured, but he managed to transmit a message to Anakin, so we left Tatooine to rescue him against Master Windu's orders._

"We fought our way through a droid production factory there, but we were discovered as well. Count Dooku--who was indeed behind the attacks--ordered us to be publicly executed in a Geonosian arena. Obi Wan was already tied up there, and I confess I have never been so relieved to see anyone.

"I thought, 'Even if we die here, he won't end his life believing I never loved him.'

"Of course, he couldn't cooperate. I called to him, but he cut me off to banter with Anakin about our botched attempt to rescue him. Then, I was tied too far away from him, and the first time I shouted to him, he couldn't hear what I said over the crowd. I kept trying, even when the three of us were fighting for our lives against the monsters they released into the arena to kill us. For a while, he still couldn't hear me. Then he kept interrupting me again!

"Finally, the Jedi arrived to rescue us, but Dooku released the droid army. We all continued to fight regardless. I have never seen anything as amazing as Obi Wan and Mace Windu standing back to back against that metallic onslaught. In the end, though, we were simply outnumbered. The droids began to press us into the center of the arena, and of the more than one hundred Jedi who had begun the battle, only a handful remained.

"Dooku offered us a chance to surrender, but Master Windu told him that we would not become hostages for him to barter with. I realized that this was going to be my last chance, so I took a deep breath, but before I could actually say anything, he called my name. When I turned to face him, he smiled, and all he said was, 'I know.'"

As she finished the last line, Leia's smile became wistful. She firmly believed that Obi Wan's ability to discern Padme's feelings in that situation had as much to do with their intimate knowledge of one another as friends as it did with the Force. Even now she could see that the friendship they had formed on Tatooine back during the Blockade Crisis was the bedrock of their marriage. In many ways, it was the cornerstone upon which they had built their family.

It had brought them through two wars together. Leia had seen very real evidence of how powerful it was when Obi Wan led the family to Mustafar in order to get his wife back. There was other evidence as well. No matter what else they fought for, the unspoken truth between Obi Wan and Padme Kenobi was that they were fighting for one another. Everything they did, everything they said or didn't say, even their tireless efforts in defense of civil liberty, ultimately returned to the love and respect they held for one another.

Leia wondered whether she and Han would ever share a bond like that. She could admit that she loved him now, and there was no doubt in her mind that he returned those feelings. Still, there were so many ways that their opinions clashed. Even their basic ideals seemed at odds sometimes. She knew that he was more than he liked to pretend--that he cared much more than he wanted to let on, and that, largely, his attitudes and apparent callousness were the result of life experiences that led him to literally expect betrayal. Most people she knew were aware of the possibility but, either by personal preference or natural inclination, chose to be more trusting. Han's tendency to be suspicious and distrustful didn't matter as much as it might have because she knew that he _did_ trust her, and he'd come to trust her family too. At least, she'd thought so before he insisted on going to Jabba alone.

What really bothered her was the knowledge that their values were often completely at odds. He couldn't accept that being part of a family meant _not_ going up against a foe like Jabba alone--or maybe he just couldn't accept the notion of himself as a _part_ of the family, no matter how much he trusted or cared for them. He showed no great concern for democracy or the ideals for which the Rebellion was fighting. For him, the fight was personal. It was for Leia as well; the Empire had destroyed her homeworld, and all of the Kenobis felt the loss of the Republic as a personal blow. All of them wanted to be able to live and move freely again. Yet it was more than this for Leia, and if Han did not share her ideals, how could they build the kind of bond that her parents had? What was it that held them together anyway?


	162. Coming Out of the Cold

"Hey," Luke said softly as he stepped up behind his sister-in-law. Isaly didn't respond, and he laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. She tensed, drawing in a sharp breath as she turned around, then laughed weakly at the sight of him.

"Sorry," she said with an apologetic smile.

"Are you okay?" he frowned.

"Yeah, just thinking," she nodded.

"Well, you wanna think inside with the door shut? It's kinda cold out there," he said.

"I thought it would be warm compared to Hoth," she raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but I mean for you," he shrugged.

Her smile widened a bit, and she slid past him into the living room, letting the door swing closed behind her. Ani and Jareth were both crosslegged on the floor by the couch. Ani had his back against the couch while Jareth sat directly in front of him. Earlier there had been a debate about these positions, since Jareth wanted to know why Ani got to lean on something and he didn't. Ani's response had been that he and Luke--who had also been meditating with them at that point--had been practicing this particular posture since they were both small boys and were capable of _resting_ their backs against the couch without _leaning_ on it. Jareth hadn't been quite convinced, so by and large Ani had agreed to compromise, saying that they would switch positions once Jareth had successfully completed the exercise the first time through. After that, the two of them had begun a guided meditation, leaving Luke to his own devices. He'd been aware of Isaly's restlessness when she went to the door, and although he tried to maintain his own focus, it had slipped away from him again. He knew that he was out of practice, and he was somewhat glad that Obi Wan wasn't here to be disappointed in him.

"Was I distracting you?" Isaly asked, moving into the kitchen where she would be less likely to disturb Ani and Jareth.

"No," he assured her with a shake of his head. "I can't meditate for hours the way he can."

"Neither can I," Isaly laughed.

"You don't exactly have to," Luke reminded her as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Why not?" she asked, peeling off Ani's cloak and draping it over the back of her chair before she slid into it.

"Because you're not a Jedi," Luke shrugged, taking the opposite seat.

Artoo was nestled in one corner, plugged into Luke's portable generator, and he tootled a greeting at the pair, then unplugged himself and rolled over to the counter, where he picked up a wooden serving platter with his claw arm and brought it over to them. Isaly's hand drifted lightly onto his dome, and Luke reached over to pick up one of the small, oval loafs of "desert bread" that apparently fascinated Jareth so much that Isaly had started regularly baking them again. They had once been something of a family joke. Padme, who was commonly held to be an ideal hostess capable of learning to prepare any meal, routinely burned the simple, flat, yeastless bread that had been a staple of their lives on Tatooine. No one had felt much like eating or baking them since they left the desert, but Jareth had never _seen_ flat bread and seemed to think it was the greatest invention in the galaxy. His enjoyment of them was enough to inspire Isaly to put aside the natural association with Aunt Beru, and Luke was surprised to find that he was glad.

"This is better than Mom's," he remarked in a pointedly casual tone.

"Well, that's not saying much, is it?" Isaly snorted, and they both laughed.

"I can't wait to see what she does when she finds out you're making them on an open fire," he said.

"Oh, she'll just smile and say, 'Well, that's wonderful! Isaly can be in charge of making them from now on,'" she predicted.

"And then Dad will look up at the ceiling and say, 'Oh, thank the Force!'" Luke added.

Rich laughter filled the room for several minutes, then quieted as they settled into comfortable silence. After a while, Isaly spoke again, prompting, "Luke, tell me about the kids. How are they really doing?"

"Well, they miss you and Ani, but they're adjusting. Mom and Dad really love having the twins, and the guys like having them around too. They're like honorary Rogues or something," he smiled.

"They're not in your hair too much, are they?"

"No," he shook his head. "They've both got a real knack for mechanics. Most of the time they're real handy."

"Already?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, okay, they make some pretty big messes, too, but nobody minds. Before we left Hoth, they decided to build you a med droid," he said.

"You're kidding," Isaly laughed.

"Nope," he shook his head.

"And Little One?" she asked.

"Lately, she's been spending most of her time with Han and Leia," he said. "She can be a real handful sometimes, and I never would've thought she'd get so mouthy, but she's a good kid. She's the first one to jump in and help when there's trouble, and Mom and Leia make sure she's got plenty of stuff to keep her mind busy while she's on the _Falcon_."

"So, she's happy?"

"Mostly," Luke said thoughtfully.

"Mostly?"

"Well, like I said, she misses you and Ani. She's old enough to understand more about what's going on, and I think she worries about you two," he explained.

"I don't want her worrying," Isaly sighed.

Luke shrugged. "She's a Kenobi. Telling her not to worry about you is like telling her not to eat or sleep."

A faint smile touched Isaly's lips at that remark. Then she drew in another breath and let it out again, visibly deflating. Luke reached across the table to touch the back of her hand.

"Hey, I've got an idea. Artoo, you have holovids of the kids, don't you?"

The droid whistled an affirmative and spent the next several minutes showing them flickering blue recordings of the kids playing, arguing, sleeping, and engaging in various types of mischief. Then, abruptly, a burst of static interrupted the playback, the images wavered into a mass of warped, incoherent lines, and reformed into a life-sized facsimile of Padme dressed in an elegant gown and holding a baby in her arms. She smiled brightly at them and waved the child's balled fist, then started to talk, but no sound emerged.

"Hey, what's this?" Isaly asked.

"Must be old data," Luke raised an eyebrow. "It's Mom, but she didn't dress like that on Tatooine."

"Well, that must be Ani, then!" Isaly exclaimed. "He's so cute!"

"I wouldn't say that in front of Jareth," Luke remarked. "Ani'd never live it down."

Isaly giggled and nodded in agreement. Then she reached up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear and asked, "Artoo, can you fix the audio? I want to know what Mom's saying."

Artoo twittered speculatively and the image vanished. The droid's dome swiveled back and forth as he worked, then the playback began again. The audio was slightly delayed and warbled, but it wasn't difficult for them to make out the words.

_"Hello, Daddy. Uncle Anakin!" Padme said cheerfully as she waved Ani's hand at them. "Ani and I wanted to send you a little reminder of exactly what it is you're doing out there. Stay safe. Come back to us soon."_

The message winked off, and Luke and Isaly sat in silence. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, frowning. "That must have been…"

"The Clone Wars, right after Dad went back on duty after Ani was born," Isaly finished.

Luke nodded, a tight uncomfortable feeling settling in his chest. "They, um, went on a mission together, I think."

"Do you have more, Artoo?" Isaly inquired.

Again, the droid's head swiveled, and after a few moments another old clip started. The perspective was much smaller, and it was clear that Artoo was farther away from the subjects than he normally would have been for a recording of this nature, but one of the two men was Obi Wan, and it didn't take much speculation to figure out who the Jedi Padawan beside him would have been. The audio was garbled at the beginning, but Artoo managed to clear it up a few seconds in.

_"…be able to thank you, let alone repay you, for what you did when you saved my boy," he said at length._

"You don't have to," Anakin quickly shook his head.

Obi Wan gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Thank you. But now there is something else I must ask you to do for me. For Ani."

"Anything," came the instant reply.

"If anything happens," he began. "If I don't make it back…"

"If?" Anakin waved his right hand dismissively. He waved his right hand dismissively. "Focus on the moment; isn't that what you taught me? The possible is only a distraction."

"Yes," Obi Wan nodded. "And I promise you, I don't intend to allow myself to be distracted. But this is different. Everything is different for me now, Anakin. I…have a son. Thanks to you. I am still trying to learn exactly what that means in terms of the way I think about the Force, the things I taught you. But there is one thing I do know, and that is that I need to provide for him. I need to know that he will be taken care of, that he will have someone to guide him and watch over him if I am not there."

"And…you're asking me?"

"Anakin, I know that we have had our differences. I know that--you felt betrayed when I left the Jedi Order. I can only ask you again to forgive me for that," Obi Wan gave his head a slight shake. "You are the best friend that I have ever had--the best friend I will ever have. There is no one else I can ask such a thing, no one else I would I trust with my son."  
Anakin inclined his head. "It would be my honor, Obi Wan. I give you my word: I will care for him as if he were my own son."

Luke squeezed his eyes shut tight as the images flickered away. His hand came down hard on the rough wooden table, and he shook his head in violent disgust. Isaly's voice, though, was quiet and thoughtful.

"I wonder if Ani's seen this."

Luke's eyes popped open in shock, and he stared at his sister-in-law with stark disbelief. "Should he?"

"He loved them," Isaly replied softly. "Individually and together--as Kenobi and Skywalker. It would be important to him."

"But Vader--" Luke waved his right hand in dismay.

"That's _not_ Vader," Isaly shook her head. "I don't think I fully understood that until just now. Is there anything else, Artoo?"

This time, Artoo's pause was longer, and the holo wavered quite a bit before they could make out a boy of about four at an odd, close up angle. There was no sound, but a pair of boots approached him from behind, and he suddenly twisted around to look up at whoever belonged to them. Then, Artoo had begun to back away, and they realized that the man behind Ani was his namesake, Anakin Skywalker.

_"…for??" the audio kicked in suddenly._

"…me the one to get…supposed…your father," Anakin said.

"Artoo, clean up that audio," Luke said with a touch of impatience.

Artoo whistled sharply, whirring and clicking with effort as the scene continued. Obi Wan's voice filtered in from somewhere beyond the holorecorder's range. Luke and Isaly still couldn't quite figure out what they were talking about, since all the heard was a single word of his complaint.

_"…fair."_

"Hmm. You know, Ani, I'd say your dad takes at least five hits for every one of mine," decided Anakin.

"He does not!" Ani laughed.

"Thank you, son," Obi Wan nodded.

Anakin flicked his finger against the back of the four-year-old's head. "Hey, I'm the one who's there, remember. I should know."

"Yeah, but you 'zaggerate everything," shrugged Ani dismissively.

"Oh, I do?" Anakin peered over his shoulder at Obi Wan.

"Kids say the strangest things sometimes," Obi Wan replied.

"So do their fathers," countered Anakin.

"So do their adoptive uncles, and their mothers, and their grandparents…" Obi Wan said innocently.

"Oh, yes. I suppose we'll never know where he picked that one up, will we?" Anakin asked.

"It's not likely," Obi Wan shook his head.

"Not likely at all," agreed Anakin ironically, and his lips curved in a half-hearted smirk.

Ani shook his head at them and returned to his game. Anakin crossed his arms and watched with a smile until "his" fighter took another hit. Then he bent down and swept the boy off the ground, flipping him easily in the air in order to hold him by the ankles.

Laughing and shrieking protests, Ani struggled for a few seconds, then let go of the toys he was still holding, turned his wrists and grasped Anakin's ankles in return. The Knight clomped noisily around the balcony for a while, then turned to Obi Wan and tilted his head.

"Hey, did you see where Ani went?"

"No, I didn't…did you lose him?"

"I must have," Anakin frowned, tromping back into the apartment. 

Perspective shifted as Artoo trailed along behind them. Obi Wan and Anakin wandered the apartment, calling Ani's name as they peeked behind furniture, and Ani tried in vain to attract their attention. Isaly laughed openly, and despite himself, Luke felt a smile tugging at his mouth.

_Finally, Anakin turned a startled look at the floor and exclaimed, "Hey, here he is!"_

"Well, how did he get down there?" Obi Wan shook his head. "Really, Anakin. Can't you be more careful where you put my son?"

"I'm sorry, Obi Wan, he's sneaky," apologized Anakin, hefting the boy upward, tossing him around, then flipping him over his right shoulder. "Whoops!"

"Whoops? What do you mean, whoops?" demanded Obi Wan while Ani hung off Anakin's shoulder, laughing hysterically.

"I think I lost him again," confessed Anakin.

"Anakin. You have to stop losing him. Padme is going to be home soon," sighed Obi Wan.

"Well, I guess we'd better find him then," Anakin said thoughtfully.

"I guess we'd better," Obi Wan feigned impatience.

They looked around again, with Ani continuing to kick his feet and call for their attention. Neither man paid any attention until he began to whack Anakin in the backside, laughing, "Uncle! Anakin! I'm right! Here!"

"Ow!" Anakin stopped short.

"What's the matter?" asked Obi Wan.

"Something's hitting me…?" Anakin said worriedly.

"Hitting you?" asked Obi Wan.

Ani gave him another smack. "Uncle!"

"On my butt! What is that?" Anakin asked.

Obi Wan took a few cautious steps and peered nervously around his friend's back, widening his eyes at the sight of his son. "Oh my…Anakin…"

"What is it?" Anakin asked again.

"It looks like Ani," Obi Wan reported with a wince.

Anakin spun his whole body around. "Where?"

"Well, he was here," Obi Wan coughed.

"See, I told you he was sneaky!" Anakin sighed.

"I'm over here…" Ani called, breathless with laughter.

"Where?" Anakin asked.

"Maybe you should use the Force," Ani suggested ironically.

"Good idea," nodded Anakin. He stood still for a moment, then swung Ani back off his shoulder, cradling the boy with one arm under his knees and the other around his shoulders. "Oh look! Here he is!"

"Well, you'd better give him to me before you lose him again," Obi Wan told him.

The sound cut out again as Anakin took a step back and tossed Ani into his father's waiting arms, but Luke had played enough with Ani's children at that point, that what they were saying wasn't necessary.

_The two men tossed the boy back and forth for a while, gradually widening the space between them. Then, as Ani struggled playfully to get loose, he slipped, and Obi Wan had to move in closer to grab his ankles. This led to a round of swinging that fell naturally to tickling and wrestling around on the floor until the images flickered and faded away._

"It must've been just before the end of the war," Isaly said tightly.

"They were all on Coruscant together for a few days after Dad and Anakin rescued Palpatine from General Grievous."

"I remember," nodded Luke.

"No wonder they miss him so much," Isaly said, covering her eyes with her hand as her shoulders began to shake. "Oh, my poor Ani. And poor Dad!"

Luke sighed and pushed back his chair, rising from the table to walk around to the side where she was sitting. Slowly, he knelt beside her and put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. Then he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"We'll just have to get him back." 


	163. A Rude Awakening

"It's cold in here," Shmi complained as she followed Han back into the hold with a box of tools, random parts, and wire scraps in her arms.

"I know it's cold, kid. You ain't gonna freeze," he said.

"Sir!" Threepio turned jerkily and gestured over to him. "Sir, I don't know where your ship learned to communicate, but it has the most peculiar dialect. I believe, sir, it says that the power coupling on the negative axis has been polarized. I'm afraid you'll have to replace it."

Han squinted at the droid and stomped over to glance at the terminal in front of him. Not that it could really tell him much, since the whole purpose of having Threepio interface with the _Falcon_ was that Han needed to know what was wrong with her. He gave the nervous droid a derisive look.

"Well, of course I'll have to replace it," he said, then gestured for Shmi to follow him over to the ceiling access panel. He grabbed a thick coil of wire out of the box and held it up to Chewie, calling, "Here! And Chewie…"

The Wookie reached a furry hand down to grab the wire, then turned around to thrust his head back out of the trap door. "What?"

Han glanced over his shoulder toward Threepio, then lowered his voice to make sure that the droid didn't hear. "I think we'd better replace the negative power coupling."

Shmi slowly raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed.

"What'samatter with you?" Han demanded pointedly.

"Nothing," she replied, thrusting the box at him. "I'm going to find Aunt Leia."

"She's in the cockpit thinking," he told her.

"Great. I'm gonna go think too."

"It's a regular ship full of intellectuals around here, ain't it?" Han rolled his eyes.

"Yes…?"

"Great," Han sighed.

"Bend down a minute, Master."

"What?" Han squinted an eye at her, but crouched to place himself at her eye level.

Shmi shrugged and reached up to pat him affectionately on the head. Then she flounced off toward the cockpit. Chewie laughed loudly as she went, and Han was so startled that it took a few seconds before he could think of something to say.

"That's cute, kid! Real cute!"

She grinned and raced into the cockpit, but she came to an abrupt halt as she took in Leia's still, pensive posture. Her aunt turned to look at her but didn't say anything. Shmi moved up beside her and covered Leia's hand with her own.

"What's on your mind?" she asked softly.

"I was…thinking about your mom," Leia replied, turning her wrist to clasp Shmi's hand in cold fingers.

"What about her?" Shmi frowned.

"I guess about how much she must miss you and the boys," explained Leia.

Shmi nodded and slid into Leia's lap, shivering a little as the warmth of her aunt's body reminded her of how cold she really was. As Leia's arms wrapped around her, she rested her cheek against the softness of her breast and closed her eyes.

"I miss her," she confessed.

"I know," Leia replied softly as she brought her own cheek down atop Shmi's head.

"Sometimes I wish I'd gone with her and Daddy," said Shmi.

"Why didn't you?" asked Leia.

Shmi's eyes popped open and she raised her head to stare at her aunt in wide-eyed surprise. "Would you have left your Master?"

"Not if I had a choice," Leia admitted. "But you're a lot younger than I am."

"So?"

"I'm a grown up, and I still feel like I need my mom sometimes. You're still a little girl," Leia explained.

"You went to Alderaan," Shmi reminded her.

"It was really hard," Leia nodded. "And I didn't even consciously remember my mother."

Shmi nodded and closed her eyes again, settling her head back on Leia's chest as she mulled this over. She reached for her aunt's hand and pulled it into both of hers, playing idly with the long, elegant fingers. Frowning, she considered her response carefully, and then chose the simplest explanation.

"Han expected me to leave."

"What?" Leia stiffened in surprise.

Shmi's frown deepened. "He's used to people leaving on him. 'Cept for Chewie, everybody does."

"Did he say that to you?" Leia asked, a bit sharply.

"No," she shook her head. "I just know. I always did; I just didn't know how to say it when I was little."

"Well," said Leia ponderously, "if you do want to go to Dagobah with your parents, we can bring you there once we get the ship working and get out of this mess. I'm sure Han would understand that you were coming back."

"Maybe he would now," Shmi shrugged. "I'm not really sure. He didn't then."

"Oh," Leia sighed softly.

"I don't really want to go to Dagobah anyway," Shmi shrugged. "I think it'd be boring there. I just wish that Mommy and Daddy could be back, that's all."

"I think we all want that," Leia agreed.

"Do you still--" Shmi started to ask, but a loud thunk against the cockpit window cut off the question. She jerked upright and turned toward the sound, then let out a shriek at the sight of a large, staring eye attached to the exterior of the ship by a suction cup.

Leia screamed as well, and both of them scrambled out of the chair, racing through the door and into the hold where Han and Threepio were engaged in another debate. The lights flashed on, then off again, and Shmi flung herself against Han's side, clinging to him.

"Sir, if I may venture an opinion--"

"I'm not _interested_ in your opinion, Three--what?"

"There's something out there!" Leia cried.

"Where?" Han asked, his arm moving protectively around Shmi.

"Out there, in the cave!" Leia told him urgently.

Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, another loud banging sounded against the hull. Shmi tightened her grip on Han's waist, not looking up. Even Threepio seemed to catch the humans' anxiety.

"There it is. Listen! Listen!"

"I'm going out there," Han declared, edging away as he pried Shmi loose.

She stepped back, taking refuge against Leia, who wrapped her arms instinctively around the girl's shoulders. "Are you crazy?" they cried together.

Han was already moving toward the hatch with Chewie at his heels. "I just got this bucket back together. I'm not going to let something tear it apart!" he insisted.

"Ohhh!" Leia exclaimed worriedly. "Then I'm coming with you."

"Me too!" Shmi added, grabbing her aunt by the arm as Leia moved away.

"Little One, stay here," Leia said automatically.

"You're not going out there without me!" she insisted.

Leia was too worried about Han going alone to spend a great deal of time arguing. Both of them grabbed a breath mask from the rack by the doorway and hurried after Han and Chewie. Their clattering footsteps echoed eerily in the pitch dark cave, but the sound became strangely muffled and squishy once their feet left the ramp. Frowning, she glanced toward her aunt, who stomped her foot experimentally.

"This ground feels strange. It doesn't feel like rock at all," she said.

"Aunt Leia…" Shmi began, then let her voice trail off uncertainly.

Han knelt, studying the ground, and she moved closer to him, planting a hand on his shoulder from behind. He glanced up at her, then looked at Leia. "There's a lot of moisture in here."

"It's almost…I don't know," Leia said nervously. "I have a bad feeling about this.

"Look!" Chewie called, pointing toward the cockpit. Shmi followed the direction of his finger and clutched Han's shoulder tighter at the sight of a large, leathery winged thing moving over the ship's hull.

"Back, kid--Leia, watch out!" Han ordered, and she sprang away as he leapt to his feet, smoothly pulling his blaster. A red energy bolt lanced the darkness, and the black shape tumbled to the floor of the cave in front of her. Han bent again, examining it, and nodded to himself. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Mynock. Chewie, check the rest of the ship. Make sure there aren't any more attached. They're chewing on the power cables."

"Mynocks?" Leia asked.

"Like Soresu?"

"Not now with the Jedi stuff, kid," Han said with a faintly exasperated sigh. "Go on inside. We'll clean them off if there are any more--"

Just then, a swarm of the ugly, bat-like things swooped down on them. Shmi instinctively raised her arms over head, and Leia grabbed her by the shoulders, bending over in an attempt to shield her as she steered them both toward the ship. Chewie waved at the things with his blaster until they scattered.

"Wait a minute…" Han said suddenly. He pulled his blaster again and fired at the far wall of the cave. The whole thing shuddered, and the ground under their feet started to buckle. Leia and Shmi bolted the rest of the way to the ramp and back inside, followed closely by Han and Chewie. As soon as everyone was in, Chewie sealed the hatch, but the ship was heaving around as the ground outside roiled and shook.

"All right, Chewie, let's get out of here!" Han ordered.

The Wookie ran for the cockpit while Han rushed into the hold to check the scopes. Leia and Shmi staggered after him as fast as they could. As they caught up, Shmi reached for the nearest console to brace herself.

"What can I--?"

"The Empire is still out there. I don't think it's wise to--"

Han cut off both of them, sliding past Leia again en route to the cockpit. "No time to discuss this as a committee!"

"I am not a committee!" Leia yelled back as they ran after him. He was already in the pilot's seat by the time they reached the cockpit, and Shmi scrambled into the navigator's chair to strap in without having to be told. Leia, however, wasn't finished. "You can't make the jump to lightspeed in this asteroid field!"

"Sit down, sweetheart! We're takin' off!" Han ordered.

"Now we're in trouble!" Shmi heard Chewie bark in alarm.

"What?!" she peered forward, trying to raise herself higher in the chair to see around Han's head.

"Look!" wailed Threepio.

"I see it, I see it!" Han muttered.

_"What?!"_ Shmi demanded.

"We're doomed!"

"The cave is collapsing!" Leia cried.

"This is no cave!" Han declared.

"I knew it!" Shmi pounded a fist against her leg in satisfaction.

"Well, why didn't you say something?!" Han and Chewie yelled in unison. Han's head swiveled automatically to glare at her, and as he moved, she caught sight of two rows of giant white teeth rapidly closing around the _Falcon._ Her mouth popped open, and Han snapped his attention back to the ship's controls as Chewie cried out in alarm.

Han pulled the ship into a half-roll and barely skimmed through two of the huge teeth as the monstrous creature's mouth snapped closed. Shmi closed her eyes, drew in a breath, and let it out again, shaking with relief. Then, as the ship began to be buffeted by asteroids again, Han repeated his question.

"Why didn't _say_ something?"

"I'm six! It took me a while to figure it out!" she shot back.

"I wasn't sure either," Leia reminded him. "She probably didn't know _what_ she knew until you said it."

"Well, that's just great!" Han grumbled.

"Hey, somebody told me to quit with the Jedi stuff, _Master!_"


	164. Remember When

Bail didn't know precisely what to expect when he arrived for dinner the following evening. Padme greeted him at the door dressed in an elaborate red gown reminiscent of the ceremonial dresses that she had once worn as Queen of Naboo. She escorted him through the living room, where he saw that all the furnishings had been rearranged to emulate a theatre setting, and an improvised platform of some kind had been draped with white hangings emblazoned the insignia of the Rebel Alliance, the Jedi Order, Naboo, and Alderaan. The steps that led up to it on either side were the kind of portable ship-stairs that fighter pilots sometimes used, but they had been scrubbed to the point of actually gleaming--a state in which he couldn't recall ever having seen any Rebel equipment.

In the kitchen, he found Obi Wan, the twins, Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar, and the entirety of Rogue Squadron seated along the sides of the table. The table itself had somehow been extended from the already impractical length that Padme insisted it had to be, and it was draped with hangings that matched the stage in the living room. Mon's gown was the equal of Padme's, though in Chandrilan style, while Ackbar and the Rogues all sported formal military attire. He would have expected to see Obi Wan dressed as they were, but both he and the twins were looking extremely itchy in some of the finery that Padme had outfitted them with on the family's brief excursion to Naboo. He smiled a little at the fact that she had the foresight to arrange such clothing for the twins, who would have been far too young for these during that trip. Then his brow creased as he registered the fact that Obi Wan was not in his accustomed place at the head of the table.

The whole group stood as he and Padme stepped into the room, and the military members of the assemblage all came to attention. The twins gave firm nods of satisfaction, and Padme led him to the empty seat where Obi Wan should have been sitting. He could see that his very obvious expression of confusion was bringing no end of amusement to the impishly grinning twins, so he decided that a question would not spoil the mood that they seemed to have worked so hard to create.

"What is this?" he asked.

"This is dinner your honor," Padme replied, smiling and gesturing toward the chair.

"I see…" Bail replied slowly, sliding into his seat. "Well, I'm afraid I don't have a speech prepared."

"You don't give a speech this time, Uncle Bail!" Obi-Too assured him.

"Ah. Good then. I'll leave that too…Obi Wan?" he glanced at his friend.

"I don't _give_ speeches," the Jedi smiled.

"_We_ have the speech," explained Junior.

"Later," added Obi-Too. "Now is time to _eat."_

This sent a ripple of laughter through the room, and Padme commenced the meal, playing hostess with all the poise and regal dignity that she had once employed at functions of state in the Republic. It was obvious that her performance thoroughly pleased her grandsons, who had never seen her in any sort of formal social setting, at least to Bail's knowledge. He was both flattered and mildly embarrassed that she would enact such a grand display in his honor, especially in this particular situation, where the masterminds of the evening would not have known whether social forms were kept.

He had no idea the boys should want to hold a dinner like this in his honor. He'd learned long ago not to try to guess what thoughts went through the minds of precocious young Kenobi children, but the level of effort that they had invested in this evening told him volumes about its importance to _them._ The fact that Obi Wan and Padme would facilitate the event for them did not surprise him, but he also found it very telling.

Of course, none of that prepared him for what actually happened once dinner ended. Padme smoothly marshaled everyone into the living room, where she and Obi Wan escorted him onto the makeshift stage. The three of them stood together at one side, the Kenobis looking decidedly pleased with themselves and saying absolutely nothing in response to Bail's whispered questions. The twins disappeared while the rest of the guests took their seats, but they bustled out of their room a minute or two later, carrying a gaily decorated box between them. The problem was that whatever arrangement had been made about who would hold the prized object seemed to have become unsatisfactory, because as they marched toward the stairs, they kept tugging on it and glaring at each other. Fortunately, they made steady, if jerking, progress toward the stairs, and a sharp glare from their grandmother clearly communicated the importance of climbing the steps without shoving. With an exasperated sigh, Obi-Too relinquished the box to his brother and clomped up onto the stage.

Junior followed him up, and both of them moved to the front of the platform where Obi-Too opened his mouth to speak and was promptly elbowed in the ribs. He glared at Junior, who scowled back at him. There was a moment of tense staring, in which the audience valiantly attempted to turn their laughter into coughs and throat-clearing.

"I talk first!" Junior hissed.

"You hold the box. I talking first!"

Shoving the box at his twin, Junior shook his head until his hair started to fly around. "I talk first, Obi-Too!"

Obi-Too grabbed the box only long enough to thrust it back at him. "Me!"

Their grandfather sighed softly and began to massage his eyes with the tips of his fingers. "Obi-Wan. Anakin."

Both of them turned to look at him in surprise and annoyance at the interruption. _"What,_ G'apa?"

He turned pointedly toward Bail, then looked back at them expectantly. "Uncle Bail is waiting."

"Oh," Obi-Too nodded.

"Right. You talk, Obi-Too," Junior said, snatching the box protectively.

"_Fank_ you."

"You wel-_come,"_ Junior replied.

Bail found himself extremely thankful for his years of training and service as a diplomat. He suspected that no other type of preparation would have enabled him to keep a straight face during this exchange. Padme remained equally composed, as did Mom Mothma. Obi Wan did an admirable job, but his Jedi training put him in good stead for such a task. About half the Rogues were literally wiping tears of mirth from their eyes, and even Ackbar shook a bit with suppressed amusement.

"Fank ev'yone for coming…and helping…and Grandma for dinner…and the Rogues for building…and G'apa finding flags…and…" Obi-Too trailed off thoughtfully.

"This cer'mony is for giving this medal--" Junior paused dramatically to hold up the box.

"--to our Uncle Bail, and--" Obi-Too interrupted.

"Bail _Organa!_" corrected Junior.

"I know…?"

"My turn now," Junior said.

"Fine, you talk."

_Medal?_ Bail asked himself, but he had little time to puzzle it out further.

"Kay," nodded Junior. "C'mere, Uncle Bail."

Smiling, Bail walked over to them and clasped his hands solemnly behind his back. Obi-Too reached into the box to produce something that looked like a metallic egg with a smaller, blue oval button in the center. Small loops had been welded onto either side and threaded through with a long strip of finely patterned blue and silver fabric.

"This is the Kenobi medal," Junior explained. "So ev'body know that Uncle Bail belong to us, and fanks for…um…take care Aunt Leia and help the Jedi and…" Junior trailed off, frowning.

"D'mocrasy."

"Yeah," nodded Junior, reaching with his index finger to depress the button in the center of the medal, which triggered the familiar blue spray of a holoprojection.

Bail's smile faltered, and he felt himself go icy with shock as he understood what this was about. Through sheer force of will, he brought his training to bear again, found a smile, and maintained an appropriate expression for the public gathering. Nothing could disguise the tears that slipped down his cheeks as the message played, with both boys reiterating their intention for people to understand that he "belonged" to the Kenobi clan, and listing--with a bit of whispered coaching from their grandparents--various things for which the entire family felt that they owed him a debt of gratitude. None of that had ever entered Bail's mind. Anything that he had done to help Padme, Obi Wan, and their children had always been motivated by friendship, commitment to shared principles, and his own internal sense of honor and duty. Once accomplished, he seldom, if ever thought of those tasks again. The Kenobis apparently had--and the realization of how deeply these people felt their kinship with him split open the dull membrane of melancholy isolation that Alderaan's destruction had sealed around him.

"Can't reach," Obi-Too whispered as the message ended, beckoning to him with a chubby finger.

Chuckling through his tears, Bail dropped to one knee, bowing his head as the twins slipped their gift around his neck. Then he reached for them, drawing both tight against his chest, and kissed their cheeks. "Thank you, boys."

They endured the hugging for a moment, then squirmed away to officiously announce that the ceremony was over and it was time for dessert. Obi Wan and Padme moved to either side of him as he stood again, then shifted positions subtly to shield him from public view while the guests applauded and he wiped his eyes. He felt Obi Wan's hand on his arm, and Padme slipped her arms around his neck, drawing him into a tight hug.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He nodded and composed himself as quickly as he was able, then drew back to look at them. "Thank you."

"Bail," said Obi Wan, "You once told me that there would be a place for me and my family on Alderaan. We want you to understand that there is a place for you in this family."

"You have a home with us," Padme added. "Always." 

* * *

"They're asleep," Padme said as she came into the bedroom. Obi Wan lay atop the covers in bed, idly holding the old self-projecting holocube that usually rested on his wife's bedside table. He looked up now, smiling in her direction. She had changed out of the finery she'd worn for Bail's award ceremony and now wore a simple cream colored shift that reminded him of something she'd worn at Varyinko on their honeymoon.

Had that really been more than a quarter century ago? The holocube in his hand seemed to say yes, but he often couldn't quite accept that reality. The galaxy was a vastly different place than it had been the day that Bail Organa came to deliver him a commission in the Grand Army of the Republic. At times, he felt like a different man altogether. It was an eerie, rather haunted feeling that he didn't quite like, and he consciously turned his thoughts away from it and back to his wife. She was his only constant; the only way that Padme changed was in the fact that she became more beautiful to him each time he looked at her.

"How many songs did you have to sing?" he asked.

"Only two. They must have worn themselves out today," she chuckled.

"Well," he said, "There's nothing quite like a song from Grandma."

"I don't know," she mused as she slipped onto the edge of the bed beside him. "Grandpa's stories seem to hold a bigger attraction."

"Grandpa's stories also don't work very well for bedtime," he replied.

"I suppose you have a point," she admitted, trailing her index finger up the side of his face. She leaned over to look at the holocube, which currently showed the boys at eleven and sixteen, posing against the side of what had been Ani's speeder.

"Well, you know, I've learned that lesson the hard way," he smiled.

"At least you've learned it," she pointed out, watching the cube with him as it cycled back to the beginning of its rotation: five year old Ani making a face at a crying baby Luke.

"True," he agreed.

"You miss them."

"A bit," he nodded.

"Did I ever thank you for this?" she asked.

He glanced up at her in surprise. "The 'cube?"

"Mmm."

"You don't have to. I never really knew why I took it," he shrugged. It had been one of the few personal possessions he regularly kept in the Wastes. When Luke and Artoo had brought Leia's message, instinct had compelled him to grab it before he and the boys headed back to the farm. At the time, he'd thought that doing so was a rather silly whim, but most of their belongings had been left in the desert, including the collection of holorecordings that Ani had kept with him from the Clone Wars.

"Well, thank you anyway," she smiled.

"You're welcome," he chuckled, setting it back on her table.

"Oh," she said as he turned back to her. "That reminds me. I got a message back from Pooja. She has Ani's old painting in her attic with some of the old toys and things. They glued it to the back of another one and then put a false backing on it and reframed it, but it wouldn't be that hard to restore."

"The problem is getting it without alerting anyone to our presence on Naboo," he frowned.

"Maybe when Han gets back I can ask him to go," she suggested.

"Are you sure you want him taking a risk like that?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"He took us all the last time," she said.

"But not to Theed. Things are more dangerous there for us now, too. The Emperor will expect us to try to make contact with your family at some point. He has to be watching Pooja," Obi Wan said.

"I'm sure Han could get in and out without detection, Obi Wan."

"Oh, I'm not questioning that," he agreed with a smile to soften his words.

"Well, if you don't think it's wise, I won't ask him," she promised.

"I'd like Ani to have the painting back too, darling," he said. "I just don't like the idea of sending one of the boys into a potentially dangerous situation for personal reasons."

"You're right," she sighed.

"Padme, we'll go back to Naboo when this is over. Ani will have it back then," he promised.

"I know," she said, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on his lips. "You always keep your word to me."


	165. The Sleeper Must Awaken

Qui-Gon and Mace waited on swamp floor a short distance from the entrance to the cave. Luke's shirt hung on a tree nearby. He, Ani, and Jareth were only a few moments away now. Yoda had marked out a course through the swamp and spent the last several days putting both Luke and Ani through a regimen of intense physical reconditioning. Luke needed it more than Ani did. It had quickly become apparent that neither his reflexes nor his upper body strength would be up to par for an extended lightsaber battle. Ani was better, but he still lacked endurance. The Force could be used to compensate for all of this in the short term, but it was not wise to cultivate that sort of reliance on the Force, especially when doing so demanded an even greater level of intense concentration than saber combat already required. With his natural propensity for climbing and his habit of spending long hours alone in the forests of his home planet, Jareth had been able to keep up with them at first, but he had now taken to Ani's back the way that Yoda rode on Luke's. It suited all three of the Jedi Masters to have him there, since his weight and bulk forced Ani to work harder and thus push his endurance level further.

This left Yoda free to do most of the active teaching, since Ani was busy sweating. The Jedi Spirits realized with some amusement that such a state of affairs suited Yoda perfectly well. The old Grand Master was in his element as a teacher of younglings, and there was nothing they knew of that he enjoyed more.

When the boys finally came charging into the clearing where the Force ghosts stood, Yoda was happily lecturing, his tone calm and even despite the jostling that he was receiving as a result of Luke's gait and the pace that the brothers were keeping. One corner of Qui-Gon's mouth lifted with amusement as the boys bent to let their passengers slide to the ground and Yoda managed not only to keep talking but to look dignified, even keeping his gimer stick in hand.

"Remember you must. A Jedi's strength flows from the Force. But beware of the Dark Side. Anger...fear...aggression. The Dark Side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Consume you it will, as it did Obi Wan's apprentice."

"You mean Vader?" Jareth asked as Ani dropped down to the ground beside him.

"Mmm," nodded Yoda.

"But how can we beat Vader without the Dark Side?" he asked in confusion.

Qui-Gon's smile faded. Mace's brows creased sharply into a frown, and Yoda's big eyes popped wide open. Ani twisted to face his young pupil, and Luke gaped.

"What?" Ani asked, startled.

"The Dark Side is stronger, isn't it?" frowned Jareth.

Ani wet his lips and drew up his knee, hooking his right arm around it in an apparently casual gesture. "What makes you think that?"

"Vader and Palps run the galaxy," Jareth shrugged. "Jedi are all hiding from them. It must be stronger. Um. No offense, Master. Masters," he added with a bobbing bow toward Yoda.

Qui-Gon almost laughed, but a scowl from Mace kept him silent. Luke looked at Ani, who caught his upper lip between his teeth as he considered how to reply. The two Force ghosts suspected that Yoda would have a ready answer for a misconception like this, but the ancient Master merely folded his hands over the top of his stick and turned toward Ani, waiting.

"It wasn't the power of the Dark Side that allowed that to happen, it was…well, a lot of things," Ani said. "Much of it had to do with corruption in the Republic. Palpatine is a dangerous Force adept, but what gave him real power was his understanding of how to manipulate people, both politically and personally. He knew how to play on people's fears and prejudices, and he took advantage of weaknesses that already existed in the Jedi Order," Ani explained.

"Like what?" Jareth wrinkled his brow.

"Well," said Ani thoughtfully. "For one thing, the old Order forgot that there's a very big difference between healthy attachments like love for your friends and family and selfish obsessions. They expected a Jedi to have no personal connections to living beings around them and yet be able to hold all life as sacroscant--"

"Sacro-what?" Jareth interrupted.

"Sacrosanct," Ani repeated. "It means something very sacred to the point that it should never be damaged or interfered with, even to prolong it."

"Huh," Jareth frowned. "Well, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, but it's very difficult to do that when you don't know the first thing about how to live," Ani replied.

Jareth's eyebrows shot up. Yoda grumbled quietly but held his peace. Luke gave a soft snort of amusement but only smiled and allowed Ani to continue the lesson.

"When I teach you that the whole galaxy is connected, I'm not just talking about a mystical connection that exists through the Force," Ani said. "Everything is affected by everything around it. Different sectors of space can exert physical forces on one another or depend on one another for trade. In a star system, each planet or moon is affected by the presence and specific orbits of all the rest. The beings who inhabit a space-faring system usually affect one another by the ways that they interact together politically and socially. Each planet has its own ecosystem in which environmental factors like climate, terrain, and soil conditions affect the living things, and they in turn affect the environment. A change in any one of those things can alter or even fundamentally upset the balance of the entire system."  
"Okay…" Jareth's brow furrowed deeply, and Ani paused to allow him to absorb the words before continuing.

"Living beings need to be able to exist in concert with their environments, and as a general rule, sentients are meant to live in community with their fellows. Particular communities are interdependent with other communities in various ways and individuals within specific communities become interdependent, which is why some form of political hierarchy and government develops naturally wherever beings live together for any length of time," he continued when the boy posed no questions.

"So?"

"So, the Force affects all of that, and it's affected by it in return. It flows in certain ways and has currents, but those currents are affected and even sometimes changed by the ways in which life flows and the tensions that living organisms can exert upon one another--and on the Force itself, when it comes to groups like the Jedi or the Sith who have enough understanding to be able to direct it. It flows naturally toward an intrinsic balance--a point at which all living things exist in harmony with their environments, with each other, and with the Force itself--but as soon as any sentient group begins to grasp and manipulate the Force, that balance shifts. When someone tries to exert control over others or direct the course of events for their own purposes, no matter what those purposes may be, the system is upset, and if that goes on for long enough, with enough powerful groups or individuals exerting different pressures, everything just goes out of whack," explained Ani.

"Palps?" Jareth asked, frowning again.

"And others, yes. Including Vader," Ani nodded.

"But what does that have to do with the Jedi?" Jareth wanted to know.

"The Jedi are committed to a philosophy of passivity. They act only in situations when _inaction_ presents a greater danger by bringing about or perpetuating an imbalance--"

"But that's good!"

"Yes, it is," agreed Ani.

Jareth screwed up his face in confusion. "Master, I don't get it."

Ani raised an eyebrow, lips twitching slightly as he said, "Perhaps you would if you stopped interrupting."

"Oh. Sorry."

Ani nodded in acknowledgement of the apology and stroked his chin, which was getting scruffy with several days' growth of beard, as he paused to collect his thoughts. Luke raised his eyes to the sky and pressed his fist against his lips, managing to turn his laughter into a rough throat-clearing noise. Flicking a glance at him, Ani lifted his eyebrow again in a silent question.

"Not a thing, Dad--Ani," Luke said, then quickly moved off to collect his shirt before either brother could burst out laughing.

"The problem," Ani went on, returning his attention to his young pupil, "Is that the Jedi in the Old Order tried to base their study of the Force on a position of removal from larger, interdependent communities of sentient life. Those communities are always growing, always in motion, part of the life around them. The danger of removing oneself from a living system is that once outside it, one has no impetus--no reason to move and grow."

"So?"

"What happens if you leave a piece of food sitting out too long without eating it?"

"It goes rotten," Jareth said.

"That's what happened to the Jedi."

"But…?" Jareth squinted and shook his head.

"Go on," Ani prompted.

"Master Yoda's not rotten. Or Master Obi Wan," Jareth said pointedly.

"Things don't go bad all at once," Ani said.

"Oh, so…all the rotten pieces got cut off and they're the part that's still good to eat?" Jareth asked.

"Ani, I think you need a new analogy," Luke laughed as he finished buttoning his shirt.

"So it would seem," agreed Ani. Then he thought for a minute before beginning, "Look, Jareth. The Jedi are like a plant. Sometimes, if a plant is sick but it still has living roots, the sick parts can be removed, and the good part that's left can be put in new soil."

"Oh," said Jareth slowly. "So…is it a new plant or a piece of the old one then?"

"It becomes a new plant in time," Ani said.

"How?" Jareth asked.

"You tell me."

"Master, I hate when you do that," the boy sighed.

"I know."

He sighed louder. "Um…"

"Think about what I just told you about ecosystems," Ani prompted.

"Okay…um…"

Ani looked steadily and patiently back at him with an expression that said he was prepared to wait however long it took the young Jareth to arrive at a conclusion. Watching, Qui-Gon couldn't resist a smile. It would be interesting to see whether Jareth's conclusion matched the one that Ani had drawn and where the discussion would turn if it wasn't. Ani was right to a rather large degree, but thus far his explanation was still only partial.

"Because…it gets changed by the new stuff around it," Jareth said finally.

"And the soil it's in," Ani added with a nod. "Very good."

"But Master…?"

"Mmm?"

"You said the Jedi forgot stuff."

"They did."

"Why?"

"For the same reason that I've forgotten what it feels like to be six," Ani said.

"You don't act old," Jareth shook his head.

"Thank you," Ani smiled. "I also don't act six."

"Ani, you never acted six," Luke quipped, but even as he finished the statement, his attention was drifting toward the huge, dead black tree at the edge of the clearing. Its giant, twisted roots formed the cave that he would soon have to enter, though he couldn't realize that yet.

"Very funny," Ani replied, giving his head a light shake.

"But, Master, you were six once," Jareth said with an uncomprehending frown.

"Mm-hmm. But I'm not now. So, any memories or beliefs I have about what it's like to be six are colored by my adult mind and perceptions. If enough time passes, people who aren't six lose the ability to really empathize or understand what it means to _be_ a six year old. The same is true for the Jedi. So because the Jedi became so far removed from the people around them, they developed ideas about the Force and what was required in order to avoid the pitfalls of the Dark Side that made them an entity unto themselves instead of being a part of the living communities they came from."

"And that's bad," Jareth squinted thoughtfully.

"That depends on your perspective," Ani replied.

"Oh," Jareth covered his face with his hand.

"There are many things that the Old Order knew, things that Master Yoda knows, for example, that are of profound importance to us as Jedi. The difficulty of that is the fact that any knowledge or understanding that a living creature gains is affected by its own perspective."

Finally the boy flopped down on the ground next to him, leaning his back against Ani's side with his head on the Knight's arm. "Master Ani, my brain hurts."

Laughing, Ani slipped his arm around the boy and asked, "Remember when Isaly told you about the flat bread?"

"Yeah…?"

"Why did you want her to make it?"

"So I could know what it was."

"You already knew what it was," Ani challenged.

"No, I didn't," Jareth shook his head.

"Do you know what 'flat' means?"

"Yes, Master," Jareth sighed.

"And you know what 'bread' is. You've had other kinds of bread."

"Yes…"

"So, if I say 'flat bread,' then you know what it is. Don't you?"

"No, Master!" he shook his head again, more vehemently this time.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what it tastes like! Or how it feels, or smells, even."

"Exactly."

"I don't get it."

"You can't fully know something without experiencing it. You can learn about it, increase your knowledge of the principles that govern it or even learn what kinds of things affect it. But you don't _know_ it unless you experience it for yourself. The Force creates life. It's created by life. It affects and is affected by life. It's part of that system I told you about before. The only way for a living thing to experience oneness with the Force is by fostering a balance between its own internal nature as a created thing and its nature as something higher, part of the energy that binds us to all other living things. You can't sacrifice one for the other."

"But you told me I have to be able to step away from things to be objective," Jareth reminded him.

"Yes, sometimes, it's necessary to step back in order to gain a clearer perspective. Otherwise, you begin to be caught up, move too fast, and you open yourself to the dark side. It isn't stronger, but it's easier—quicker--tempting because it seems to give you everything you desire. What it really does is pull you out of your own balance. But if you stay removed from life for too long, you're equally unbalanced."

"Because…life moves! Everything else is moving but you?"

"Yes!" Ani nodded. "Good. Real passivity requires a Jedi to be flexible. To bend and flow _inside,_ mentally and emotionally, to adapt as life changes. The old Order lost its ability to adapt."

"But how do you know when you're too fast or stuck? How do you know the good side from the bad? How come--?"

"Enough," Yoda interrupted. "You will know when you are calm. At peace. Passive."

"But--"

"Master Yoda is right," Ani held up a hand for silence. "Clear your mind of questions now. We'll talk more of this another time." 


	166. Fear Is The Little Death

"Yes, Master," Luke heard Jareth say with a sigh. Part of his brain registered the words, but his awareness of them was incidental, like the absent knowledge of an insect buzzing around his head. Most of his attention was now riveted on the twisted black tree that he was staring at, both drawn and repulsed by gnarled, twisted and hulking shape which he had begun to feel pulsing quite palpably with an icy cold that he had learned well since the day that he and Ani had found the Lars' farm turned a heap of smoking black ash.

Walking closer to it, he said softly, "There's something not right here."

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his brother climb to his feet. Jareth scrambled up after him, but when he started toward Luke, Ani's hand drifted down to his shoulder, and he halted. Yoda slowly made his way over to a large, protruding root and sat down, poking his gimer stick into the ground.

"I feel cold. Death," Luke said uncomfortably.

"That place...is strong with the Dark Side of the Force. A domain of evil it is. In you must go," Yoda told him simply.

Luke's eyebrows rose in surprise. Both he and Jareth turned to Ani, who remained rooted to the ground where he stood. He nodded faintly but gave Luke no other cue.

"You coming?" Luke asked.

"Not this time," Ani shook his head quietly.

"Oh," the word fell flatly from Luke's lips as understanding began to dawn. Ani had to have known about this then. It was some sort of Jedi testing and his brother had let him walk straight into this unprepared. Turning back to Yoda, he asked, "What's in there?"

"Only what you take with you," the Master replied.

Luke bobbed his head and turned back to the tree, studying it for a long moment, then went to pick up his weapon belt, which was still hanging where his shirt had been. Ani walked over as he reached the branch, and he closed his fingers around Luke's wrist as the younger brother touched the belt. Their eyes met and they held one another's gaze for a long moment.

"You won't need the weapons," Ani said finally.

Luke stared hard and drew his hand free, pulling the belt with him. An uncomfortable feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach, and it increased as he turned again to study the cave. On the one hand, he realized that as a Jedi, there must be some things he would be required to do alone, some tasks that were meant test him in ways that his brother's presence would hinder. On the other hand, how often had the importance of teamwork and cooperative effort been drilled into both of them? He found it hard to believe that Ani would ever allow him to walk into real danger unprepared. Yet, the chill of death that he felt emanating from that cave was undeniably real. Taking a step toward it, he strapped the belt to his waist.

Behind him, Ani let out a soft sigh, but Luke did nothing to acknowledge it. The cold drew him onward as he approached, sucking him toward it, then inside, where he was enveloped in icy, impenetrable darkness. The last sound he heard was his brother's voice.

"Yoda, I don't like this."

"Great, Ani," he sighed to himself. "That's really encouraging."

Kneeling, he peered cautiously through a roughly circular whole that led into a subterranean cave. A small lizard crawled along the edge and flicked its tongue at him, apparently neither surprised nor afraid of his presence. Odd. The darkness inside the hole was so thick it was impossible to see anything that might lay below, but again it sucked at him, and he knew that he could not turn back in any case. He swung his legs through and dropped down, then began to walk, pushing his way through a mass of tangled roots that protruded from the ceiling. As he moved deeper inside, he could barely make out the two sides of the passage through which he walked. Reaching for his belt, he unhooked his lightsaber and thumbed it on, raising it in front of him like a torch. Then he cautiously continued his journey. Looking carefully to either side, he saw only another, larger lizard crawling up the slimy, dank wall and a snake bunching and slithering its way through the branches of a tree. _Something_ was in here, though. He knew that much. It was something very much bigger and more dangerous than native reptiles. He drew in a deep breath and pushed forward, wending his way through roots and protrusions of rock and dirt.

He felt more than saw the space around him widen. The darkness around him ate at the blue luminescence of his lightsaber, seeming to push the pool of light into a smaller and smaller pocket around him. The unnatural quiet of the place pounded at his ears like a desert silence just before a sandstorm.

Then, suddenly, there was an unmistakable hiss. Instinct brought his lightsaber higher and into proper defensive position. Darth Vader rushed toward him, a deeper, soulless black in the already pitch dark interior of the cave. A red lightsaber, the weapon of a Sith, illuminated the armor, casting an eerie glow about the menacing form as the sound of his breathing became all-encompassing. Luke stepped back, his mind suddenly racing with the flashing images of that same blade whirling through the air aboard the Death Star, aimed at his father.

It struck out at his own weapon, sending a shock down his arm at the force of the impact, but he was only dimly aware of that as he watched it sheer his brother's legs in his memories. Fury warred with terror as the apparition of Vader before him broke contact and swung again. He blocked the blow, forcing the Sith blade away as his father and sister's cries of anguish echoed in his ears. Rage poured through him as Vader hammered at him, and he felt his body pivot, both arms driving through a powerful arc that severed the monster's head in a shower of sparks.

The headless body remained motionless for half a second, then crumpled as the helmet struck the ground and rolled, coming neatly to a stop at Luke's feet. With his whole body heaving, Luke dropped his arms and stared down at it. A strangled sound that was half sigh and half sob of relief issued from his lips. The nightmarish images of memory faded, leaving him drained and weak, his limbs so leaden that he lacked even the dexterity necessary to deactivate his lightsaber.

_That's not Vader,_ Isaly's voice spoke from behind him. Startled, he whirled around but found the cave as empty as it had been a few moments ago.

He turned slowly and warily back to face the helmet, which still lay staring up at him from the muddy, treacherous ground. As he did so, the armor and mouth grille split lengthwise, falling away to reveal the stony, vacant face of his own brother.

He sucked in a breath, convulsing with horror at the sight of it, and his fingers sprang open, releasing the hilt of the lightsaber. A scream tried to crowd its way up his tightening throat but the cramping muscles refused to release it.

_What have I done?!_

_You were following your destiny, my young apprentice,_ rasped the dry, slithering voice of the Emperor as it wrapped itself around his brain.

"No!" sound finally exploded through Luke's quaking lips. He shook his head violently, clawing at his temples.

_Following your destiny…_

* * *

The holocube slipped from Padme's fingers and struck the cold ground with enough force to cause the static 3D image of her sons to waver and disappear. It rolled across the floor, coming to a halt only when it struck the opposite wall, and she let out a soft cry of fear and anguish.

"Oh, no…no, my boys!" she whispered, her hand moving upward to rest against her throat.

Playing on the floor by the couch, Obi-Too and Junior looked up sharply and twisted around to face her. Both of them clambered to their feet and ran over to her chair. She leaned forward to embrace them more out of instinct than conscious intent, pulling them up with her.

"Daddy…?" Junior asked, lower lip trembling.

"I don't know, Junior," she said truthfully. All she'd felt was a momentary surge, a wave of emotion carried on the Force, and though she could tell that it came from Luke, his pain and fear were centered on his brother.

Quivering, the twins clung to her, hiding their faces in the folds of her dress. Padme bent her head to kiss and comfort them, letting her own concerns recede for the time being as her hands moved in gentle, soothing rhythm over their small, sweaty backs. Whatever it was, she told herself, it was beyond her immediate control. Ani's twins, however, needed reassurance and security.

_Obi Wan,_ she called, reaching for her husband through the Force.

_We're coming,_ he assured her.

He and Bail found them a few minutes later, still in the same positions in her chair. They strode over silently and both crouched to place themselves closer to the distraught twins. Obi Wan winced and shifted one hand to the small of his back as he did so, and despite the situation, Padme had to stifle a laugh.

"All those heroics seem to be catching up with you," Bail remarked dryly.

"Very funny," Obi Wan replied with a sigh.

The unexpected shift in mood was enough to startle the twins out of their fear-induced clinging, and they sat up to look at their grandfather with uncertain giggles. The faint trace of irritation on Obi Wan's face melted away as he looked back at them. Smiling in the sort of resigned way of a charmed grandparent, he set his left hand on the arm of the chair and reached out with his right, touching their cheeks as he leaned forward to kiss their foreheads.

"Boys, look. I don't know what just happened, but I promise you that if anything had _really_ happened to your father, I would know before anyone else, and I would have already sent someone to help by now. You don't have to worry," he said.

"Yes, G'apa," Junior said with a nod.

Obi-Too hesitated, his lower lip protruding thoughtfully as he considered the statement. Then he nodded and echoed his brother. "Yes, G'apa."

"Good," Obi Wan said with a touch of amusement.

Bail caught Padme's gaze and cleared his throat, holding out a hand to each of the twins as he straightened up. "I have an inspection to conduct. Would you boys like to help?"

Now they both bobbed their heads eagerly and scrambled to the floor, grabbing the hands he offered. He promised to have them back for dinner and started toward the door, but Obi-Too broke off suddenly and veered back toward the holocube which still lay forgotten by the wall. He squatted to pick it up, and Junior, realizing what had caught his brother's interest, ran back to help examine it. Bail watched them, then glanced over his shoulder with a questioning look at their grandparents, who shrugged.

After a few moments of study, the twins apparently reached some conclusion, nodded to one another, and Obi-Too said without fanfare, "We fix this for you later, Grandma."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Padme smiled, eyes stinging with tears. Obi Wan's hand slipped along the arm of her chair to cover hers.

"You welcome," Obi-Too shrugged, then trotted back toward the door with Junior at his heels.

Padme waited until the door had slid firmly shut behind them before even looking at her husband. He was still on the floor beside the chair, and now his hand came up to touch her cheek. She covered it with hers, smiling tremulously.

"Would you know?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "Whatever it was, it hasn't happened yet. What happened to the holocube?"

"I dropped it," she explained. "I was looking at it when I felt--Luke."

"They'll be all right," he said, still not moving to get up. "We have to trust them."

"I know you're right," she nodded slowly. "It's difficult sometimes. I still think of them as my little boys."

"I do too," he confessed, then leaned toward her a bit, craning his neck to reach her mouth. "I love you, Padme."

"And I love you," she smiled, bending to meet him. "Always have."

"Since Tatooine," he whispered as they kissed.

Padme raised her hand to his cheek, looking deeply into his eyes as the kiss slowly drifted to an end. "Obi Wan?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you stuck?"

"I think I might be."


	167. On Deadly Ground

Jareth had progressed to being able to lift stones while standing on his hands. He could even do so successfully while Ani and Luke sparred nearby, at least most of the time. Luke and Ani both seemed to be improving with their lightsaber combat, and while Isaly devoutly wished that her husband and brother-in-law did not have to occupy themselves day in and day out with martial training, she was proud of all three of them and their varied accomplishments. She could admit without compunction that, visually, Luke and Ani did was beautiful. They had warrior's bodies, and in the heat of the swamp, they typically worked stripped down to their undershirts, which kept them cooler and impeded their movements less--even if it did result in significantly more welts and insect bites. More and more, their movements seemed to flow into one another, with each action becoming a smoothly natural counterpoint for the opponent's preceding one. It was true whether they happened to be engaged in spectacular, kinetically powerful Force driven acrobatics or precise, elegant swordsmanship in which there was an economy of motion calculated to control and direct the energy created by one another's attacks and counters.

She was no expert in the Jedi Arts and certainly not when it came to anything having to do with lightsabers, but her husband was, and she knew quite a bit about the art of listening. Between her own study of healing and having so much time on Dagobah listening to Yoda, to Mace, and now to Luke and Ani, she at least a basic understanding of the biophysics involved with the various styles of lightsaber combat. So, she could appreciate both the physical beauty of what Ani and Luke did, with their liquid-light blades whirling and flowing around them as extensions of human bodies which moved in perfect concert, and the changes that their combat forged union wrought in them--as individuals, as brothers, and as a team of Jedi.

At the moment, they were fighting in close, all three lightsabers flashing up, down, overhead, around and back faster than her eye could follow. She chose instead to follow the line of Ani's body which gave her a point of focus within the slow spinning, ever revolving circle of combat. With a few exceptions, he kept that circle neatly quartered with himself at the center. She was so caught up in the sight of him that Artoo had been beeping for several seconds before she finally realized that he was trying to get their attention.

"Artoo, what--whoa!" Jareth exclaimed just as she tore her attention away from her husband. He and Yoda toppled to the ground again, and as the Master recovered, he shook himself and grumbled loudly.

"Focus--you must learn to focus!"

Ignoring him, Isaly pushed herself off the ground and hurried over to Jareth, who was still picking himself up off the ground. Ani and Luke broke off their duel and came over as well, clipping their lightsabers to their belts as they moved. By the time the adults actually reached him, Jareth was on his feet again, scrubbing in annoyance at a bruised shoulder.

"Let me see," Isaly directed.

"I'm fine."

"Let me _see,_" insisted Isaly.

Artoo beeped and chattered, whistling shrilly and rocking back and forth.

"What'samatter, Artoo?" Ani frowned.

Luke looked in his direction as well, and as he did, the droid spun about and scooted toward the edge of the clearing. Catching on, Luke ran after him, followed by Ani, but Isaly held Jareth back until after she had made sure that the shoulder wasn't seriously injured. When they caught up, the boys were staring in dismay at Luke's X-Wing, which was now submerged up to its nose in the muck that passed for water that it had landed in.

"Oh, no," Ani sighed.

"We'll never get it out now," Luke groaned in frustration.

"So certain are you?" asked Yoda from behind them. He walked to Luke's side, leaning heavily on his gimer stick. "Always with you what cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say? Take a lesson from the young one, perhaps you should!"

"Master, moving stones around is one thing. This is totally different!" Luke sighed, waving his hand at the ship.

"No! No different! Only different in your mind. You must _unlearn_ what you have learned!" Yoda told him.

"I don't think even my father could have moved that ship," Luke protested.

Yoda narrowed his eyes, jabbing the end of his stick against Luke's chest. "Your father _you_ are not!"

"He's right," Isaly murmured softly. Ani gave her a startled look, then smiled and nodded in agreement. Luke shook his head dubiously and let out a gust of breath.

"All right, I'll give it a try."

"No! Try not. Do. Or do not. There is no try!" Yoda declared.

Luke gave a faint nod and turned to look at the ship again. He squared his shoulders and extended his arm, palm open, toward it. Nothing happened at first, then Isaly felt a shiver pass through her as the water roiled and the X-Wing began to rise. It hovered for a few seconds, then dropped again, disappearing beneath the mud and slime.

Panting heavily, Luke dropped his arm. "I can't. It's too big."

"Size matters not," said Yoda firmly. "Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hm? Mmmm."

Luke gave his head a weary shake.

"And well you should not. For my ally is the Force. And a powerful ally it is. Life creates it, makes it grow. It's energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we," Yoda said, pinching his arm. "...not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you. Here, between you...me... the tree...the rock...everywhere! Yes, even between this land and that ship!"

He punctuated each phrase with a gesture, sweeping his free hand back and forth to indicate the things as he mentioned them. Jareth watched with fascination, while Isaly frowned, and Ani crossed his arms contemplatively. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it, and his attitude confused her further. She'd never seen _any_ Jedi she knew accomplish any feat as arduous as lifting a starfighter with the Force, and she had expected Ani to leap rather quickly to his brother's defense.

"I _do_ feel the Force," Luke said with a heavy, discouraged sigh. "You just want the impossible!"

Yoda didn't answer. Instead, he quietly turned toward the X-Wing, bowed his head and raised his arm. Soon, the whole fighter rose out of the water and glided majestically onto solid ground. Isaly stared in astonishment as he guided it down, then glanced at her companions to find Jareth as wide-eyed as she felt. Luke's expression was utterly stunned, but Ani looked on with a small, appreciative smile that reminded her very much of Obi Wan.

"Jareth," he called softly, and the boy moved to his side. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he looked down at his apprentice and asked, "Do you still need me to explain what we're doing here?"

"No, Master," Jareth slowly shook his head, then turned to offer Yoda a respectful bow.

"I don't believe it," Luke muttered, shaking his head.

"That is why you fail," declared Yoda flatly.

Luke's shoulders slumped. Crestfallen, he looked back at the diminutive Jedi for a long, heavy moment, then hung his head. Isaly reached for his shoulder, but he slid away, turning to trudge off through the trees. Yoda watched him go with a disappointed sigh and then hobbled off himself, leaving Ani, Jareth, Isaly, and Artoo by themselves.

"I wish he wouldn't act like that. He doesn't have to be so hard on Luke, does he?" Isaly asked.

Ani ducked his head and sighed. "Yoda's a teacher. He has lessons to teach both of us that go beyond the mechanics of the Jedi Arts, Isaly."

"There are other ways," Isaly crossed her arms.

"They only work if the student is receptive to them," Ani said.

"Luke doesn't appear to be very receptive to your Master's methods," she remarked.

"Appearances can be deceiving," he replied.

"Platitudes."

He shook his head. "Hard ground needs softening before a gentle hand can make something grow. I'll go talk to Luke."

He bent to kiss her, then turned and walked off in the direction his brother had gone. Instinctively, Isaly grabbed for his arm, and as he continued to move away, her hand slid down the lean musculature to clasp his fingers. He paused, pivoted back toward her in surprise, and allowed her to tug him back. His gaze moved downward, coming to rest on their linked hands for a moment, then he looked back up at her. Isaly felt her face flush, and reached out with her free hand to brush the side of his face.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Always," he smiled.

"Ani…talk to Luke about the cave again, too, all right?" she asked. Both of them had been rather silent on the subject of what had happened there. She knew that Luke had seen something disturbing and that both brothers had been upset by the ordeal, but after some initial discussion that she hadn't heard, neither of them had said anything about it.

He took a breath and bobbed his head, more in deference to her wishes than in actual agreement. Then he released her fingers and hurried into the trees. Watching him go, Isaly let out a sigh. Jareth pressed himself against her side, looking up at her with hopeful smile as he moved her arm around his shoulders.

"Come on, little monkey," she said, giving him an affectionate squeeze. "There's no use standing here waiting all afternoon."

He nodded and let her lead him back to the house, calling over his shoulder, "You too, Artoo."

* * *

_Han's screams echoed through Ani's sleeping mind. He struggled to wake, caught in the nightmare as his hands--black gloved, mechanical monstrosities in their own right—worked the control of an elaborate torture device. Somewhere nearby, he was aware of his daughter, who felt each atrocity he performed upon the man who had been her teacher and guardian. Han's cries of pain and rage ripped through her--tore at his own soul--and yet, they continued._

Desperately, he reached into the Force, searching for his brother, and Luke's presence found him, anchoring him in the strength of the pact that they had sworn to one another on the night he emerged from the cave. Other images flashed through his mind. More pain, more torture, this time Leia's body writhing and her screaming voice in his ears. Were those his hands? Were they? Or were they Vader's? Did it matter anymore? Was there a difference?  
Finally, Luke wrenched him awake and he surged upright in bed, shaking and drenched in sweat. On the couch in the other room, Luke awoke as well, and Isaly started up as soon as she felt Ani move. Her hand slid onto his arm, warm and soothing, but he shook it off, swinging his legs to the floor.

"Han! Leia!" Luke cried.

"What's going on?" Isaly asked.

"We have to go," Ani said. "Now."

* * *

"No, I _don't_ have a landing permit," Han said into the transmitter. "I'm trying to reach Lando Calrissian."

More flak burst outside the cockpit window, rattling the Falcon's interior. Leia looked worriedly from him to Shmi, pressing her lips into a thin line. Shmi beamed a reassuring smile at her that she well knew was rehearsed and patted Han's shoulder.

"Whoa! Wait a minute! Let me explain!" he cried as the ship shook. "You will not deviate from your present course," came the cold response from the Cloud City's security ship. "Rather touchy, aren't they?" observed Threepio. "I thought you knew this person," Leia said to Han in annoyance.

Chewie growled a question at Han, who gave him a startled look. "Well, that was a long time ago. I'm sure he's forgotten about that."

"Forgotten about what?" Leia demanded.

"Trust me, Aunt Leia. You don't wanna know," Shmi replied.

"Permission granted to land on Platform Three-two-seven," the voice said again.

"_Thank_ you," Han snapped with an angry edge in his voice as he ended the transmission. Then he turned to Leia, offering what she supposed was his version of a reassuring smile. "There's nothing to worry about. We go way back, Lando and me."

Leia was not convinced. Nor was she impressed. Unfortunately, however, she could also say with certainty that she was not surprised. "Who's worried?" 


	168. I Can Show You The World For a Price

"Does that ship Han got you have weapons?" Luke asked as he and Ani left the house.

"Shields. Light armaments. I had to strip most of it. Wasn't all that functional to begin with," Ani told him.

"I'll take the X-Wing then. At least it can shoot," said Luke, veering off toward his fighter.

Isaly and Jareth burst out the door behind them, Jareth hopping on one foot as he tried to pull on his left boot and Isaly pushing the last of her collection of research notes and study material into an already overstuffed satchel. Artoo followed Luke to the X-Wing and sprang onto the hull, settling himself into his socket while Luke started loading his gear.

"Ani, we're coming with you!" he heard Isaly call.

Ani turned to face her, giving a vehement shake of his head. "You and Jareth stay here. We'll be back for you."

Isaly shook her head just as stubbornly. "I'm not asking, Anakin, I'm telling you. I am not going to stay on Dagobah while Vader has my daughter _again!"_

"We don't know that. We don't know anything except that Vader will be there," Ani said.

"Ani, we don't have time to argue!" Luke interrupted.

"It hasn't happened yet, Luke," Ani replied with infuriating calm. He'd been just as set to leave a few minutes ago. What was wrong with him anyway?

"I can't get the vision out of my head! We have to go!"

"Master, if Shmi's in trouble, I'm coming too!" Jareth piped up.

"We don't know that she's in trouble. All we know is that she's there somewhere," Ani said.

"If Vader's there, she's in trouble!" asserted Isaly. "Besides, Luke said that Han and Leia would die--that's good enough for me. I'm a Kenobi too, Ani--!"

"Me too--well, close enough," Jareth shrugged.

"Isaly, please. It's a trap. I don't want you and Jareth in the middle of it. Luke and I have to go," Ani continued in the same reasoning vein.

Luke grit his teeth and climbed into the fighter, not bothering to wait until the argument was resolved. Ani could handle it however he wanted; all that mattered to Luke now was reaching Leia before any harm could come to her. He knew that, one way or another, Ani would follow him--not that he ever really would have doubted it before, but now they had sworn an oath. The thing was sealed between them.

_Whatever comes from here on in, we fight together._

"Then why are you going?" Isaly asked. "What do you think you're going to do?" Isaly asked.

Ani smiled grimly and looked up at Luke. "Spring the trap."

"Oh, I see. Kenobi and Skywalker, is that it?" Isaly asked harshly.

"More like The Kenobi Brothers, but the analogy is apt," Ani kept his tone mild and laid a hand on her cheek. "We'll bring her home. Don't worry."

"Yes, we will," Isaly replied, giving Jareth light push toward the boarding ramp.

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose as the boy scampered up the ramp. The delay gave Yoda time to appear, and the two Force ghosts materialized not long after him. All three of them urged the brothers to wait, citing the usual prohibitions about haste and recklessness. Ani tried to argue with them, and both brothers assured them that they would return to finish what they had begun here. They were not to be swayed, and although Ani stood his ground, Luke began to wonder if his brother would be.

"Artoo, fire up the converters," he said finally.

The droid obeyed with a happy whistle, then closed the cockpit. That settled it. Isaly hefted her bag onto her shoulder and raced up the ramp, not waiting for Ani to agree with her decision to come. He had some parting words with Qui-Gon, Mace, and Yoda, none of which Luke could hear with the cockpit sealed, and then sprinted up the ramp himself. Then, to his surprise, he heard Qui-Gon's voice in his own mind.

_Luke, don't give in to hate! That leads to the Dark Side…_

* * *

"Be ready grab your blaster," Han whispered to Shmi as they waited for the Falcon's hatch to open.

"Yes, Master."

"What?" Leia asked, looking up as she finished pulling her sleeve back down over the wrist-sheath that hid her lightsaber.

"Nothing," Han said as the ramp descended.

He led the way down to the Landing Platform, which gave all appearances of being deserted, and looked around warily. A cold feeling of dread settled in Shmi's stomach as soon as she took her first breath of Bespin air. Something wasn't right here--something that had very little to do with Lando Calrissian and any grudge he might still be holding against Han. She drew in a breath and expelled it, glancing back at her aunt, whose brow was furrowed in concentration. Chewie moved off to one side, allowing her and Shmi to step off the ramp. Threepio tottered timidly after them, his head swiveling with his typical mix of polite interest and extreme anxiety.

"Oh. No one to meet us," he commented.

"I don't like this," Leia said flatly.

Han spun irritably back toward her, snapping, "Well, what would you like?"

"Well, they did let us land," Threepio pointed out in a placating tone.

"Look, don't worry. Everything's going to be fine. Trust me," Han said. Then a bulkhead opened at the far end of the platform, and a group of people came toward them, led by a tall, handsome man in fine clothes and a flowing cape. He was dark skinned, with clothes and hair that were as immaculately clean and well-placed as any diplomat that Shmi had ever seen, and he walked with an air of easy command and casual confidence. Lando Calrissian. Han gestured toward him smugly. "See? My friend."

He and Chewie started toward Lando, but Shmi shook her head, unable to pinpoint what disturbed her in Lando's stride yet unable to dismiss it. She trotted after Han, attaching herself to his side as he leaned back and beckoned to Chewie.

"Keep your eyes open, all right?"

"You really think you have to tell me that here?" Chewie replied with a grumble.

"Han, I have a bad feeling about this," Shmi said softly.

"Yeah," he said as Lando and his group halted, still about ten feet from them. "Stay here with Chewie."

"But--"

He shot her a quelling look and then took another few steps toward Calrissian. Shmi backed up to stand beside Chewie, both of them sighing heavily and grumbling under their breaths. The Wookiee's furry hand came down on the top of her head, and she craned her neck to look up at him. He tilted his head slightly, and she nodded, needing no words to express the accord that passed between them.

Meanwhile, Lando was letting Han know exactly how he felt about the group's arrival. "Why, you slimy, double-crossing, no good swindler! You've got a lot of guts coming here after what you pulled!"

Han drew back slightly, and Shmi could see his arms move up and inward. He would be pointing at his chest and affecting innocence. She kept her arms loosely at her sides, waiting to see what Lando's reaction would be. Calrissian took a threatening step toward Han, raising his arm, and Han stepped back. Shmi drew in a breath, forcing her body to remain relaxed. Then, laughing, Lando threw his arms around Han, and the two men embraced, Han visibly stiff with surprise and Lando with a hearty clap on the back.

"How you doin', you old pirate! So good to see you! I never thought I'd catch up with you again! Where you been?" Lando fired questions at Han, still laughing.

"Not right," Shmi muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw that her aunt had come to a similar conclusion.

"Well, he seems very friendly!" exclaimed Threepio. Shmi rolled her eyes.

"Yes," Leia agreed with a distinctly wary note in her voice. "Very friendly."

"What are you doing here?" Lando asked.

"Ah…repairs. I thought you could help me out," Han replied, affecting a casual manner.

Lando glanced toward the _Falcon_ possessively. "What have you done to my ship?"

"Your ship? Hey, remember! You lost her to me fair and square," protested Han.

Lando's gaze slid away from him toward Chewie and he called, "How you doin', Chewbacca? You still hangin' around with this loser?"

Keeping his hand on Shmi's shoulder, Chewie moved closer and greeted Lando with reserved and clearly skeptical politeness--well, for Chewie. Shmi grinned up at him again, and now Calrissian's attention was focused on her.

"Well now," he smiled, sliding past Han. "Hello there. Who might this lovely lady be?"

"I'm Han's apprentice," Shmi said, unimpressed by his attempt at charm.

"Apprentice?" Lando's eyebrows rose and he glanced quickly from her to Han.

Han waved a hand. "Yeah, it's a long story."

"I'm sure it is," Lando started to say, but his attention drifted as Leia moved into view. He smoothly moved closer to her and offered a brilliantly charming smile. "And I'm sure this radiant jewel of the galaxy is another one. Welcome. I'm Lando Calrissian. I'm the administrator of this facility. And you are?"

Shmi resisted the urge to gag, covering her face with her hand as Han scooted closer, angling in for a way to intercept his so-called friend. Leia, of course, handled his attentions graciously, as was befitting her diplomatic training. Lando took her hand, smiling again as he awaited her name.

"Leia," she replied with consummate politeness but little warmth.

"Welcome, Leia," he said, executing a small bow and kissing her hand.

"All right, all right, you old smoothie," interrupted Han, who had circled around behind Leia to take her by the hand.

As he guided her away from Lando, Threepio attempted to introduce himself, but before he was halfway through his sentence, Calrissian turned to follow Han and Leia toward the city. The droid was thoroughly offended. "Well!"

Shaking her head, Shmi ran to catch up with Han, who was now engaged in small talk with Calrissian. It was mostly incidental--discussion about the _Falcon's_ hyperdrive problem, Lando's troubles as Baron Administrator of Cloud City, jabs about his sudden respectability. Shmi let it tumble over her, listening but not really focusing her mind on the conversation. The knot in her stomach was tightening, and she felt colder with every step she took here.

The group turned a corner and mounted a set of low, wide white stairs. Han and Lando stopped in the archway at the top, turning to one another. Lando clapped Han on the arm and remarked that seeing him again "brought back a few things." Anxious but unsure why, Shmi craned her neck around and saw that Threepio, who had been lagging behind as usual, was nowhere in sight. Then Lando started walking again, and she sighed heavily, letting Leia and Chewie drift past her as she lingered close to the steps, peering back through the hall in search of the droid.

"Little One," Leia called after her. "Come on, stay close."

"Coming!" she called, stretching up on her toes to look further. Then, shaking her head, she dashed back the way they'd come. He couldn't have gotten far, but he had a habit of getting himself into ridiculous amounts of trouble for a protocol droid. "I don't know why you couldn't have given him more brains, Uncle Anakin. It wouldn't have been _that_ hard."

Rounding the corner, she heard his voice coming through the now open doorway of a room they had passed on the way in. She followed the sound into a darkened entryway and almost collided with his golden backside. He spun around, throwing up his arms in surprise, and tottered backwards into one of the shelves.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry, Mistress Shmi--"

"Threepi-_oh!_" she exclaimed, stamping her foot in annoyance. "What are you _doing?_ You can't go wandering around here. Now look, you made a mess! Get up!"

"I do apologize," said the droid as he struggled to pick himself up. "It sounded like an R2 unit in here, and I wondered if--"

A shrill warning sang through the Force before the sentence was complete. Shmi leapt back even before the gruff, metallic voice demanded, "Who are you?!"

Threepio flailed again, crying "Oh, my—" and was cut off by the red crackle of a blaster bolt that sent pieces of him flying in all directions.

"What are you doing?" demanded the second stormtrooper as the first one aimed his blaster at her.

"No one's supposed to know we're here, Commander. Lord Vader'll have our necks!" the first one said.

"Lower your weapon. She's just a kid!"

Their bickering gave her the moment she needed to gather her wits, and she stepped toward them as calmly as she could with shaking hands, a pounding heart, and acrid smoke from Threepio's melted chest plate burning in her lungs. They'd already given her enough information, and as they spoke the name, she realized that, as with the space slug in the asteroid field, it only confirmed what her feelings had already been telling her.

"You should take her to Lord Vader," she said with a wave of her hand. "This is one of the ones the Emperor wants. He'll reward you."


	169. Clear and Present Danger

Vader felt Shmi's fear as the stormtroopers brought her into the dining room, but he took great satisfaction in how well she controlled it. For a child so young, she was remarkably self-possessed and capable. Of course, he would have expected little else from a descendant of Padme's. Still, it was pleasing to him that the girl already showed herself so worthy of the name that her father had chosen for her. He had sneered at that when he heard it--especially the foolish sentimentality that Ani had displayed by tagging her with Anakin Skywalker's last name. Having met her though, he decided that Shmi _Skywalker_ Kenobi lived up to the name she bore.

He whirled away from Fett, cloak billowing as he moved, and strode toward the door, where he crossed his arms and stared down at the child. She looked back steadily, and though the fear he sensed in her spiked intensely, there was nothing in her demeanor to reveal her emotions. Satisfied, he turned his attention to her erstwhile escorts.

"What is she doing here?"

"She and a droid walked in on us, Lord Vader."

"Walked in," he repeated, making the words a flat and obvious statement of his displeasure. A six-year-old girl and a simpering mechanical annoyance had simply _walked in_ on Imperial stormtroopers?

"I told them to bring me to you," Shmi spoke up.

Vader paused, bending his head to look at her again. The images which flashed through her mind were familiar to him. Or at least, the location was familiar. He'd left her under guard in the conference room on Mustafar. He'd never known exactly how she escaped, but apparently she and the Ecaruan brat had _shot_ his stormtroopers. Interesting. Very interesting.

"Did you?" he mused.

"Yes."

He eyed the troopers again. "Consider yourself lucky, Commander, that you had the presence of mind not to shoot her. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

They turned and clattered out again, leaving Shmi and Vader to contemplate one another. He held the silence, staring, for a long moment. Then she broke his gaze and slid her eyes over to indicate Fett, who was watching the exchange by the table. She frowned and crossed her arms.

"Does he have to be here?"

"Yes."

"I don't like his face."

"I don't like your mouth, kid!" Fett snapped.

"Yeah, you didn't like it last time either, _Schmoba_--"

"Enough," Vader commanded, silencing her. "Fett. Leave us."

Fett obeyed, but as he moved past the girl, he remarked snidely, "You're lucky Jabba's only paying me for Solo."

"Yeah, so are you," Shmi glared back at him.

"Your anger gives you focus," Vader remarked as the door closed behind Fett.

She opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut again and returned to staring.

Vader turned smoothly and walked over to the table, where he took the chair at its head and said in a conversational tone, "I told you that there was no way to escape me."

"Do you think Han will just go with Fett for no reason?" she asked.

"He will reason enough by the time I finish with him," said Vader.

"You'd have to kill him first!" she told him hotly.

"Perhaps," Vader replied, unconcerned.

"I'll hate you forever."

_That is the idea,_ he thought with mild amusement. "Then your hate will you make strong."

"Like you?" she studied him skeptically.

"Perhaps strong enough to kill me one day," he suggested.

"I don't want to kill you!"

"You should."

Hesitantly, she approached the table and rested a small hand beside his as she continued to study him. She was still afraid, but the fear was receding now, and he sensed a growing interest--curiousity--and some clouded emotion which he couldn't quite pinpoint. Her next statement surprised him. "You saved me. You can't take that back now."

"I saved your life because I wished to correct a mistake I made with your father," Vader replied, deciding to take the opportunity that presented itself.

"Mistake?"

"Your father should have become my apprentice at the end of the Clone Wars," he explained. "All of this could have been avoided if he had learned the true power of the Dark Side."

"I don't want to be your apprentice," Shmi said flatly.

"Only because you do not understand that your potential is being wasted. You don't know the power you will one day wield, little one," he said easily.

"Don't call me that," she snatched her hand away from the table, and he sensed her recoil.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Just don't," she insisted, emotions surging around thoughts of parents she had not seen in some time. Perhaps since…yes.

"So, that is what your father calls you, is it?"

"Shut up."

"You tread dangerously, girl!" he warned sharply.

She swallowed hard, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. She almost took a step back, but caught the urge and fought it down. Good.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Yes, you are."

Anger roiled again. "Why are you doing this, Uncle?"

"Address me as Lord Vader!" he ordered.

"Then don't call me Little One."

"You are in no position to bargain," he pointed out.

"I'm not bargaining. It's common courtesy. If you don't want to be called by your _name,_ then you shouldn't call me something I don't want to be called," she said coolly.

_There is much of Padme in her,_ he thought.

"That name is no longer mine. And you have a tongue like Princess Leia," he declared in disgust.

"Thank you," she beamed.

"It was not a compliment."

"Oh," her voice fell flat again, and she let her gaze drop. Then, abruptly, her eyes shot back up to his face. "What's that beeping?"

"What?" he asked, startled.

"That," she said, pointing at his chest. "It's beeping different."

"Nothing," Vader growled, waving a hand in frustrated dismissal as he understood. The suit was largely the same shoddy mass of malfunctioning parts and circuitry that it had been when Palpatine's droids had scraped what was left of his human body into it after Mustafar. Between his lack of manual dexterity and the fact that he was _inside_ it, affecting any kind of meaningful adjustments ranged between difficult and impossible. There was no one he would trust with extensive diagnostic and repair tasks, and it often signaled false alarms or even beeped for no reason at all.

"These monitor your vitals," she peered intently at the blinking box on his chest.

"I said there is nothing wrong!" he snapped.

She jerked back. "Fine."

"Sit down," he commanded.

Sighing, she pulled out the chair nearest to her and boosted herself onto it. Then, once again, she returned to her silent contemplation. Vader was unused to this sort of unabashed scrutiny, and while he didn't sense any of the revulsion that many adults--including himself--felt at the sight of him, he wondered what in the galaxy she found so fascinating. Perhaps it was the same sort of morbid interest that compelled a child to peel back a half-healed scab to see what lay underneath. In this case, though, she had no means of peeling back his armor.

"What?" he demanded at last.

"You don't act like anything hurts," she said speculatively.

"Why would I?" Vader asked, masking his surprise with cold disgust.

"Daddy said everything hurts you all the time," she shrugged.

"I have no need of _pity_ from you or your father, girl," Vader instinctively snarled.

"I don't feel sorry for you," Shmi frowned. "Why should I? Besides, Han said people don't want everybody to sit around feeling sorry for them, and the ones that do ain't worth it anyway."

"Be silent," Vader grumbled, having no interest in what Han Solo thought about pity or anything else.

"Why?" Shmi asked.

"Because I said so!"

She jerked back fearfully, then steadied herself and glared. "I don't like it when you yell at me."

His irritation melted at this display of courage, and he asked in a milder tone, "Are you this difficult with your grandfather?"

"Probably more."

"Why is that?"

"He's nicer than you."

"He is weak and old," pronounced Vader.

"So you're…what? Strong and old?"

"Be careful, child," he warned, leaning forward to waggle a finger in her face. "I am far less forgiving of a sharp tongue than your friend Solo."

She dropped her eyes to look at his finger, then frowned and replied, "Han's not my friend."

"What is he, then?" Vader asked skeptically.

"My Master," she said with a shrug.

"Your _what?!_"

"My Master," she insisted.

"And what does this _Master_ have to teach you?" Vader wanted to know, wishing that the voice she heard could adequately convey the derision he felt.

"Han teaches me to fly and how to fix everything, and he knows lots of stuff!" she said hotly.

"And you would rather learn to _fix_ a rusting hunk of space junk than learn to wield the power I can show you?" he asked.

"My father will teach me the _Jedi_ arts when he comes back," she said, and if he could have, Vader would have smirked at the emphasis she placed on the word Jedi.

"Will he?"

"Yes," she hissed.

"And what about your little feline friend?"

"My…what?"

"Cat-boy."

"What about Jareth?"

"Your father is already teaching him," Vader said in a wheedling tone.

"So what?"

"A Jedi can only have one Padawan learner," Vader said.

"Grandpa had three at once on Tatooine," she frowned.

"And only one of those has become a Jedi Knight. There is a reason for that," Vader said with an inward smile of satisfaction as her expression shifted and he picked up her confusion and discontent at this notion. "A true master should devote all of his time and attention to the most worthy student."

"Well…Jareth won't be a Padawan forever," she said tentatively.

"Do you truly want to wait that long?"

"No…" she admitted, biting her lip.

"You should be trained in the ways of the Force _now,_ not squandered on worthless smuggling scum like Solo," Vader said.

"Han is _not_ worthless!" she leapt to her feet again, planting both hands on the table in front of her. "How dare you say that about someone you don't even know?!"

"Sit. Down," Vader commanded, subtly bringing his will to bear on her mind with the Force. She dropped back into the chair before she even realized that she was going to do so, and the result was a particularly comical expression of stunned disbelief and puzzlement.

"No fair," she grumbled.

"With the Force at your command, _fair_ will be whatever you make it," he promised her. "The Jedi cannot teach you this."

"Fair doesn't change because you say so, Uncle."

"You will soon learn otherwise," Vader told her dismissively.

"You never told me why you're doing this."

"I had need of bait that your father and Luke could not resist," he said.

She gasped with mingled shock and outrage. "Daddy and Uncle Luke will stop you when they come!"

"They will try," he allowed.

"You--" she broke off as the doors slid open and Calrissian rushed in.

He came to an abrupt halt, letting out a long breath as he saw that the girl was unharmed. That sentiment changed rapidly when he caught sight of her face, and Vader smirked mentally. Shmi leapt out of the chair again and marched up to him, delivering a string of insults as she moved.

_"Calrissian!_ You no good, worm-ridden, slimy, lilly-livered, yellow, lump-headed, laser-brained _scum!_" she punctuated the last word with a vicious kick to Calrissian's left shin. He crumpled, grabbing the leg in both arms and hopping around on his other foot while his face contorted and he gave a long, low moan of agony. Shmi apparently wasn't through with her verbal attack, but she seemed to have come to the end of her supply of insults in Basic. This did nothing to discourage her, however, and Vader tilted his head with interest as she launched into a volley of guttural grunts, groans, howls, and other strange noises that must have been her human voice-box's best approximation of Wookiee invective. It was rather hard for him to make out, though Calrissian's continued expression of wide-eyed shock, head shaking, and sputtering attempts to interject made up for the lack of comprehension quite well. He was rather amused when she reverted to Basic and ended the diatribe with, "I oughta strangle you!"


	170. Touch of Evil

"I can't find her. Chewie's still lookin, " Han reported, striding back into the fancy quarters that Lando had given them. Despite the situation, he found his eyes moving appreciatively over Leia's body. Well, at least there was one good thing about Lando's enjoyment of beautiful women. He couldn't stand to see one without decent clothes.

She was pacing worriedly in front of the window, and she turned as he came in, letting her hands fall heavily to her sides. She noticed the way he was looking though. He could tell in the way she tensed up for a second and then moved closer. He reached out to brush her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"You look beautiful. You should wear girl's clothes more often."

"We have to find her, Han," she said with an irritated sigh.

"I'm sure she's fine," he said, bending to kiss her.

Their lips met, feather-soft, and he slowly turned his wrist to cup her cheek in his palm. She leaned into the contact, closing her eyes, but when he moved to pull her closer, she snapped them open again. Her body stiffened, and he fought a sigh.

"Not now."

"Look, Lando says that cyborg guy of his is plugged right into the city's computer. There's nowhere she could go here that he can't find her. She's probably just wandering around the casinos," he said with a faint shrug. He wasn't really sure about that, but he didn't like her worrying like this.

"Then why hasn't Lobot found her yet?" she asked pointedly. "I can't sense anything from her in the Force."

"You've had that problem before. There's a lot of people here, tons of activity. And you're supposed to be relaxed to do that Jedi stuff," he reminded her.

She shook her head. "It's different. Something is _wrong,_ Han."

"All right. I'll go help Chewie find her, and we'll get out of here as soon as we can. Stay here in case she finds her way to us," he said, then took her by the shoulders for a parting kiss that he didn't break until every hint of tension had drained from her body. Then he brushed his mouth against her forehead and whispered, "Don't worry."

* * *

The pain in his shin died down enough for him to let the foot touch the floor again, and Lando cast a wary look at Han's apprentice. She didn't appear to be aiming for his other leg, but that didn't mean much considering that her mentor was Han Solo. She crossed her arms, glaring darkly.

"What does your aunt think of you using language like that?" he asked. He wasn't really surprised at the variety of insults she knew, but the one of the Wookiee stingers she'd slung at him had been scathing enough to bleach his ears. It had to do with the Emperor and a female bantha, and it cast Lando's parentage in a particularly poor light.

"My aunt would use worse language on you if she was here!" she declared furiously.

"You're probably right," admitted Lando. Then he looked at Vader, who had been watching the entire exchange without comment. "Lord Vader, please. Allow me to take her to my personal quarters. I assure you, she'll have no opportunity to warn Han from there."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that!" Shmi shouted before Vader could respond. "Be careful, Lando. Lord Vader doesn't like people who fail him."

Lando's eyebrows rose. He expected threats, of course. It was exactly what Han would have done in her place, and he knew that he would have a great deal of work on his hands keeping her out of trouble until this was over. That last bit, though…that was more than just childish pique, and it set a cold feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"She will remain with me," Vader said, not rising from the table.

"Is that necessary? I give you my word--"

"That's worth a lot," Shmi muttered.

He fought a wince, knowing she was right. Briefly, he clenched his jaw, then forced the muscles to relax. "She will be no trouble to you."

"She will stay at my side until I say otherwise," Vader told him.

Lando heaved a sigh. "Yes, Lord Vader."

* * *

"Did you find her?" Leia spun away from the window as Han came back in again.

"No. Lost Chewie too."

"What?!"

"I went down to check on the ship and we got separated," Han explained.

Slapping her arms against her sides, Leia strode toward him in agitation. "Well that's just great."

"The ship is almost finished. Two or three more things and we're in great shape," he said.

"The sooner the better. I'm telling you, something is definitely not right here. No one has seen or heard anything about Threepio either. He's been gone too long to have gotten lost!" she asserted.

"He ain't exactly high on my to-find list right now," Han shook his head, moving closer to her until they met at the center of the room. He reached for her shoulders, his hands strong and self-assured, but gentle in a way that had become familiar and soothing to her in moments like this. He kissed her forehead softly, and she felt the sudden sting of tears in her eyes. "Relax. I'll talk to Lando again. See what I can find out."

"I don't _trust_ Lando!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I don't trust him either! But he is my friend," Han said. "Besides. We'll soon be gone."

"And then you're as good as gone, aren't you?" Leia heard herself saying.

Han looked back at her for a moment, then guiltily averted his eyes. She winced. How many times lately had she read what her mother had written about her parents' parting after Devaron? More than once, Padme had said how grateful she had been to him because he didn't try to stop her, didn't pursue or try to hold her to him with guilt. Of course, he wouldn't have done those things. Not Obi Wan Kenobi. He wouldn't have even considered the possibility. That made no difference to how Padme felt, how much his open, completely selfless love for her meant, or what it said about the bond they shared.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to say that."

"No, you're right," he shook his head.

She nodded. "That's all right, too, Han. It's your decision, not mine. Whatever you want to do, I'll respect it."

_Trust Han Solo to do the most unpredictable thing possible,_ Lando thought, shaking his head as he left the dining room. Running around the galaxy with a kid! Han the family man--who'd believe it? Lando had seen it with his own eyes, and he still wasn't sure he believed it. The whole situation would have been priceless for its value in taunting Han if the Empire wasn't involved. Damn them. This wasn't what he'd agreed to.

Use Han as bait for a trap, sure. It wasn't as if he had any choice in the matter the way they had shown up. Lando had been quietly aiding and supplying the Rebellion for some time, and his first thought was that he'd been discovered. Then he realized that he hadn't been, that all the Empire was interested in at the moment was his friend. He didn't like it. He and Han hadn't parted on good terms last time, but that didn't mean he _enjoyed_ the prospect of turning a friend—any friend—over to them. When Darth Vader came knocking, you just didn't say no. Not if you wanted to keep your neck. It didn't matter what he wanted.

When the Empire was gone, the deal he'd made with Vader now would keep both the Cloud City mining operations and his clandestine activities permanently under Imperial radar. Han would be ready to kill him, but he could live with that. What he couldn't live with--what he didn't think he could stomach at all--was the involvement of a six-year-old. Nobody had said anything about _kids._ Lando was a lot of things, but he wasn't cruel, and putting Shmi in the middle of this mess was just bad business as far as he was concerned. But what could he do about it now?

After Vader sent Lando to get Han and Leia, Shmi stomped back to the table and threw herself into the chair. She had been too scared to do or say much when the stormtroopers first brought her in, but now that she knew what Vader was doing and what he wanted her for, most of her fear had faded away. Of course, it helped that she was boiling mad at both Vader and Calrissian. It didn't really surprise her that Calrissian had sold Han out. She didn't like it, and if she could get him back for it someday, she would, but Han had already warned her not to trust him. Vader was another story.

The Dark Side in him chilled her, but as terrifying as he could be, she had never been able to forget what happened on Mustafar. _He_ had saved her. No one else. Her father and grandfather might have helped pull them both to safety afterward, but if not for Vader, she would have burned to death in the lava. No matter what Han or any of the Rebels thought of him, she remembered him as Anakin Skywalker, the only safe thing to cling to on a world that was eating itself alive in molten stone. She understood that he was a Sith and that he would go on doing horrible things. That hurt her, but not the same way it hurt her father. She had always had to fear the reality of Vader, but her father was torn apart every time he had to see what Vader was. Still, she had never really expected Vader to do something like _this_--to use _her_ for the purpose of bringing her own father and uncle here to kill. What was worse was that in the process of doing that, he was also turning _Han_ over to a bounty hunter for no reason other than his own mean spirited whim.

"Uncle."

"Yes, child."

"What if I make a deal with you?"

"We have already established that you are in no position to bargain," he reminded her.

"But I have something you want."

"Do you?"

She nodded. "Me."

"I have you already."

"But I won't do what you say."

"You will in time," he said without interest.

"I'll fight you," she promised, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll be the biggest pain in your armor you ever felt."

"Do not think to threaten _me,_ Shmi," he warned, leaning closer so that the hiss of his breather was directly in her face.

She leaned closer as well, staring hard into the blank black orbs of his facemask. "I'm not threatening. I'm telling. I know how to pick locks, talk to computers, and I can break any machine there is. I never listen unless I want to, either. And I can whine for days."

"I could kill you with a thought."

"Then you'd be out an apprentice," she raised her eyebrows. "What's the point?"

"I could also make you _wish_ for death. I have quite a store of expertise in that area," said Vader callously.

She felt herself pale and swallowed hard, but clenched her hands into fists so that he couldn't see them shaking. Han had taught her that if she was outclassed in an important deal, she could still con her way through. The important part was to make it look like she was still the one with the hot commodity. Thinking quickly, she said, "It would be a lot easier if you didn't have to."

Vader slowly sat back and steepled his fingers in front of his face. She leaned back in her chair, resisted the urge to sigh with relief, and waited. Watching him, she knew that she probably couldn't fool him into thinking her cooperation was actually important. He wasn't a dumb mark in one of Han's con jobs. Still, it was all she had, and she also knew that guys like him were usually impressed with a show of guts. This would look _really_ brave to him because she was a cute little girl, and she knew quite well how to play on that cuteness when she needed to.

"Very well," Vader said, allowing his mocking amusement to trickle out to her in the Force even though his voice remained the same eternally flat, computer-generated monotone. "What is this proposal of yours?"

"I stay here with you and agree to learn your Dark Side cr--stuff--and you let Han and my Aunt Leia go," she said, then held her breath and willed him to believe her.

"Very well, my apprentice. Summon Fett from the hallway, and when Calrissian brings your…former…Master here, you say nothing. One word of warning, and I will kill him where he stands."

Shmi let out the breath she was holding and bowed her head, hiding the faint twitching of her lips. "Yes, Lord Vader."


	171. Tomorrow Is Forever

It was difficult for Obi Wan to keep the nagging unease he felt from his empathically gifted grandsons; it was impossible for him to keep it from his wife. Not that he truly would have done so--or even considered such a possibility. His main concern at the moment was to get both twins in bed asleep, where they would be less likely to pick up on what their grandparents were feeling. Padme noticed something amiss before they even successfully got both boys into pajamas. She didn't say anything, but a hand on his shoulder, a light squeeze, and a certain look was all he needed.

Obi-Too and Junior were restless, probably because they already sensed some of what was going on around their parents, even if they had no way of pinpointing their feelings without someone closer to them providing a name and an explanation for the vague foreboding. It was nearly an hour before they were asleep, and once they were, their grandparents knew that they would have to ease themselves quietly and carefully off the beds and out of the room.

Padme followed him out, then took his arm, guiding him toward the couch. They sank onto it silently, and she pressed close to him, keeping her arm linked with his. Gently, he reached up with his other hand to brush the back of his fingers against her cheek.

"You're worried," she said.

"Something's happened. Or is happening. I'm not certain," he said.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"I'd send the Rogues if I knew where or what," he shook his head. "I don't. For now the best thing for us to do is wait."

"The only thing," she sighed wearily.

He frowned and searched her face questioningly. Then he bent to kiss her and whispered, "My darling. They _will_ be all right. Trust in the Force."

"I trust you," she murmured, settling her head on his chest.

"You're tired," he observed, lowering his lips into her hair.

"A little."

"Was Ani's empathic gift so difficult to manage at this age? You never said anything to me," he asked.

"It wasn't," she shook her head gently. "But there was only one of him, and Naboo wasn't right in the middle of the war. He picked up our worries, but I think things are far more intense for the twins because of where we are--who we are. And…"

"What?"

"Well, Ani had a kind of stability that the twins don't. He always knew where home was. It was my parents' house in Theed where he had family, and safety, and a room that he didn't have to think of as a temporary place until the next assignment or until the base was evacuated and we went back to the Fleet. It was easier for him to cope."

"We can't send them to Mon Cal," he sighed.

"That's not the answer," she agreed.

"Yoda and Ani taught them some basic techniques, and I've worked with them on it, but I don't want to push them too hard, either," he said carefully.

"I know."

"I don't know what else we could do," he admitted, closing his eyes in thought.

Padme didn't answer right away, and when she did, her tone was soft and ponderous. "What about a minder?"

Obi Wan's eyes popped open again and he let out a puff of breath. Jedi in the old Order had always maintained a guardedly negative opinion of minders--mental healers of a sort who employed natural empathic gifts and other, more mundane methods in treating psychological and emotional trauma and other imbalances. Since the end of the Clone Wars, he had had to re-evaluate much of what he had learned as a Jedi, either directly or by social inference. Some he still held to; some he didn't. In this case, while he saw no reason why a minder would be harmful to the boys, he wasn't entirely convinced of any potential benefit.

"They haven't been traumatized," he said uncertainly.

"They're not coping all that effectively either. They're healthy, happy most of the time, but their powers are growing, and it's creating a strain on them. I don't think it's wise to wait until they _are_ traumatized in some way before we try to do something for them. Look at what happened to Ani. He recovered, but he's never really been the same boy," she said.

"You're right," he nodded. "As usual. Padme?"

"Mm-hm?"

"You will sit on the Jedi Council, won't you?"

"What?" she looked up at him with a startled laugh.

"Don't you remember? Back on Coruscant, I told you I thought that motherhood should be a requirement for a seat on the Council," he said.

She narrowed her eyes a bit, turning her head to peer at him more closely. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"No, I'm not," he told her. Then he amended, "Well. I certainly don't _actually_ think that motherhood could be made a prerequisite. But I'm not joking."

"Obi Wan, it's called the Jedi Council. I'm not a Jedi," she said reasonably.

"Well then perhaps it needs to be called something else," he replied.

"Even if it was, what qualifies me to sit on it?"

"Darling, the old Jedi Order became so insular that Jedi lost their ability to empathize with those who were not part of our monastic tradition. We've talked about this before," he reminded her.

"Yes, I know, but I don't see how it makes me a qualified individual to govern the Jedi," she frowned.

"Well, look. We were required to hold compassion for all beings, but in many cases we had no sense of commonality with them except for the metaphysical sense of connected as part of the Force. That connection is fundamental to what the Jedi are and should be, but it doesn't lead naturally to compassion," he said.

"What do you mean? Why not?" she asked.

"My arm is part of me. I care what happens to my arm. I can see the value of my arm. I can reason intellectually that if my arm suffers, the rest of me will suffer. I can say with certainty that if I were to lose my arm or my hand that all of me would be affected. I would have to learn to adapt to the loss, or replace the limb. But if I lose a hand, I don't have compassion for what's left of my arm. I feel the loss, perhaps I mourn it, but that is not compassion. It's difficult to maintain an attitude of compassion for fellow beings when my primary view of them is as functioning pieces of a larger whole, rather than individuals who think, feel, and dream the same way that I do. Both views are important, but they should be balanced. I think that they should both be represented on the Council, or else we will run risk of recreating the same problems that the old Order had."

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully. "I think you're right. But…that just means that the balanced view of the problem should be fostered among the Jedi."

"I think more than that is required," he said.

"Well, I certainly can't appoint myself to the Jedi Council, Obi Wan. That decision should be made by the rest of the Order, and right now the only fully trained Jedi are you, Ani, and Yoda," she countered.

"It won't be long before Leia is Knighted, and Luke is not all that far behind her. It's his lack of patience and reserve that concerns me right now. In practical terms, there is very little he has left to learn," said Obi Wan.

"He'll grow," she said simply.

"I'm sure of that," he smiled.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

"How close is Leia, really?"

"I would say that she will be facing her Trials within a year," he replied.

"That's a little scary," Padme said with a light shiver.

"Is it?"

"I was scared for Ani too," she said.

"I remember."

"And Leia's had so much less training than he did," she added, biting her lip.

"I won't allow her to face the Trials before she _is_ ready," he promised.

"I know," she nodded. "I guess I'm just being a mother."

"You should always be a mother," he told her, giving her an affectionate squeeze. "The children are fortunate to have you."

"I'm the fortunate one," she shook her head. "I'm so glad to have all of them."

"Even Han?" he teased.

"Especially Han."

"Me too."

She laughed softly. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Why not?"

"Well, I remember your reaction to him being far less positive once," she reminded him.

"Yes, well, everyone is entitled to make mistakes. You've been known to make a few in your time," he chuckled.

"Mm-hmm," she agreed with a nod, and reached upward to touch his lips with the tips of her fingers. "Waiting so long to kiss you was one of my biggest ones."

"You could make that up to me," he suggested, gently kissing her fingers.

"Could I really?"

"Oh, yes."

"I suppose it would only be fair under the circumstances."

"Thank you. It's taken you quite long enough to realize that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have been distracted."

"Distracted?" he raised his eyebrows teasingly.

"Well, I have had your three children on my hands most of this time," she pointed out.

"Oh, that's true, you have," he admitted.

"Well, how do you suggest that I make it up to you now, Master Jedi?"

"I suggest," he said dramatically. "That you kiss me now."

"Kiss you?"

"Yes…?"

"I have a better idea," Padme smiled, uncurling from against his side. She rose to her feet and offered him her hand.

Obi Wan had a very good feeling as to what her idea would be, and although there remained a lingering sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach, he slid his hand into hers, closed his fingers about it, and stood with a smile for the woman who was best friend, confidante, lover, wife, and so much more to him.

"And what idea is that?" he asked.

"Dance with me."

Bowing, he lifted her hand to his lips and guided her into the middle of the floor. This time, he didn't sweep their grandchildren's toys aside with the Force as he had once done with their son's. When he took her in his arms, he was aware, as he always was, of her body: the scent of her skin, the fragrance of her hair, the tenderness of her arms as they encircled him, and the rhythm of their movement through the room, which was so much a part of them now that they flowed together as one being. He was also aware of the mess around them, which he guided her through with practiced ease, spinning and dipping as they revolved in a slow circle about the room. He felt his concern for the troubled children sleeping nearby and did not seek escape in the soft light of Padme's eyes, though he looked into those eyes with deep, profound, passionate love for the woman he saw within them. He continued to acknowledge the equally painful certainty that his children were moving into a danger from which he could no longer protect them, and he felt all of this reflected back to him through her heart. He cherished it all, finding that he could even now rejoice in the bond it forged between them. These were the things that had formed and shaped them, the substance of the life and the path that they shared. He couldn't turn away from them without turning from her, and that, for Obi Wan, would have been a death from which there was no awakening to the Force. Tears fell on her hair and soaked into his shoulder, but although they felt fear, they held to one another, knowing that fear would pass into joy again.


	172. The Corellian Maneuver

"Did you find her?" Han asked as Chewie strode through the door with a packing crate of Threepio parts.

He shook his head, carrying the crate over to the table.

"What happened?" Leia asked.

Chewie explained that he found the droid in a junk pile and slapped the crate down hard, then sunk onto the couch beside it, looking at the dangling legs and arms doubtfully. Leia walked over to have a look, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Oh, what a mess! Chewie, you think you can repair him?"

"I don't know," he sighed, shaking his head sadly.

"Lando's got people who can fix him," Han suggested.

"No, thanks," replied Leia quickly.

Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Lando himself appeared at the door. "I'm sorry. Am I interrupting anything?"

"Not really," Leia said coolly.

"You look absolutely beautiful. You truly belong here with us among the clouds," he smiled.

Han covered his mouth with his hand and looked away, shaking his head and stifling a snort.

"Thank you," Leia's tone went even cooler. "Have you been able to find my niece?"

"Yes, I have, as a matter of fact," Lando nodded. "Turns out she wandered into some special security forces I've brought in recently. They weren't quite sure what to do with her--"

"I'll bet," Han remarked.

"Where is she now?" Leia asked with an edge of doubt in her voice.

"I've arranged some refreshment," Lando said. "She's in the dining room already. Would you join us?"

"No, I don't think we--" began Han, but he was interrupted by Chewie's protests of hunger. He'd learned that it was both futile and dangerous to try arguing with a hungry Wookiee, so he sighed and gave in.

"Everyone's invited, of course," Lando assured Chewie smiling. Then he offered his hand to Leia, who took it with only the slightest reluctance. Naturally. That was the polite thing to do, right? Han grit his teeth and shoved himself to his feet, quickly moving to offer his arm at her other side. She took it smoothly and he tucked her hand firmly against himself as he guided her toward the door.

"Having trouble with your droid?" Lando asked.

"No. No trouble. Why?" Han shrugged.

"It seems to be in pieces," Lando replied, moving to Leia's other side as they stepped into the hallway.

"Well, y'know. Clumsy, I guess," Han gave another shrug.

Leia _looked_ at him and then turned to Lando with one of her patented professional politician smiles. Before Han quite knew what had happened, she'd managed to maneuver the entire conversation away from Threepio and onto Lando, a subject in which Han had very little interest but which Lando was always happy to discuss. He half tuned them out, running through a mental catalogue of the repairs that Lando's people had made on Falcon and what it was likely to cost him. Of course, he doubted Lando would charge him outright. That just wasn't the way things worked. Sooner or later, though, his friend would be in trouble and he'd suddenly remember that Han owed him a favor.

He sighed inwardly, guessing he couldn't really fault the guy for that. He'd have done the same thing if their positions were reversed. He must really be getting too used to the Kenobis. For a long time, he hadn't actually _believed_ their attitude toward favors. It looked to him like they never called anything in, and that was just crazy. Mom told him that they just didn't hold to the idea of doing favors: that if they saw somebody who needed something, they figured it was their responsibility to help. Han still had a hard time wrapping his brain around that one.

In his experience, _everybody_ needed something, or if they didn't actually need it, they'd look at a guy who was so ready to jump in and help as an easy mark. The Kenobi way seemed like a pretty sure way of getting screwed out of everything he had. He couldn't really say that's what happened to them--maybe because they were all so busy watching each other's backs. Still. How were people supposed to get anywhere in life if they were always running around _helping_ everybody? All it seemed to get them was a never-ending cycle of feeling responsible for the entire galaxy.

"…so you see, since we're a small operation, we don't fall into the...uh...jurisdiction of the Empire," he heard Lando say. Now _that_ was interesting.

"So you're part of the mining guild then?" asked Leia

"No, not actually. Our operation is small enough not to be noticed. Which is advantageous for everybody since our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves," explained Lando.

_I'll bet,_ Han thought with a faint smirk. Aloud, he asked, "Aren't you afraid the Empire's going to find out about this little operation and shut you down?"

"That's always been a danger looming like a shadow over everything we've built here. But things have developed that will ensure security. I've just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of here forever," Lando replied as they reached the huge set of double doors that must lead into his dining room.

Han's brow creased. What kinda _deal_ could keep the Empire out of a place like this? That was like trying to keep a bantha stampede out of a flower garden.

Suddenly, Leia pulled away from him, and he heard the click of her lightsaber sheath opening up. The big doors slid open, and he saw Shmi go diving toward the floor as Darth Vader rose from the table.

* * *

"The city's coming up on the scope now," Luke said as his X-Wing soared through the thick clouds of Bespin's atmosphere.

"I see it. I'm not showing any sign of a welcoming committee," Ani's voice crackled over the ship's comm.

"Maybe we're early?" Luke suggested dubiously.

"No, Vader's here," Ani said with a certainty that chilled his brother.

"Is he just going to let us land?"

"Looks like it."

"Why's he being so obvious?" Luke frowned.

"Because it doesn't matter to him whether we know it's a trap or not," Ani said. "He knows we'll come, and that's all he needs."

"We'll see about that," Luke said grimly.

"Don't underestimate him, Luke. He's confident because he's good. He's the most powerful Force adept in the galaxy, and probably the second-best living swordsman," Ani told him.

"So, what's the plan?" Luke asked.

"He's better than either one of us. Not both of us together," Ani said simply.

"One of us is still going to have to free Han, Leia, and Shmi," Luke frowned.

"Isaly can handle that," Ani said. "Vader will expect us to be alone."

"There's gotta be people guarding them. He wouldn't be _that_ overconfident," Luke objected.

"So?" Isaly interrupted the discussion.

"Uh," Luke coughed. "Well, I, um--y'know, thought there might have been reason that _Ani_ wasn't going to let you come with us.

"Yes well, it looks like he finally remembered that I grew up on the same planet that two did," Isaly replied. "I know how to use a blaster quite well."

"Yeah, y'know," Luke unconsciously waved his hand. "That's right. I guess it's a good thing Ani remembered that then!"

"Right…" Isaly's tone dripped with sarcasm.

* * *

Knowing that Han would shoot, Shmi flung herself out of the chair. She landed hard, but he had taught her how to fall a long time ago. Most of the weight of impact was absorbed by her forearms, which she kept in front of her, bent at the elbows with the muscles relaxed. Then, using her stomach and leg muscles, she propelled herself into a roll that took her under the limited shelter of the table. High backed chairs lined it on both sides, but they weren't heavy, and the one closest to her toppled over her with a crash as she slammed her legs into its pedestal base.

Blaster bolts sang through the air, and a second later there was the double hiss of two lightsabers igniting. Wincing with the continued pain in her arms, she wormed her way forward on her elbows, moving from one chair to the next. She slithered to the far end of the banquet table and peered out from under the last chair, cursing softly at the fact that she could see no more than two pairs of boots, one brown and one back, moving in an intricate dance as their weapons clashed, crackled, and squealed somewhere above. Occasionally, she caught a flash of bluish-purple or red light as the sabers shot down and up again; the swishing edge of the black cloak; or the billow of a lilac colored fabric, but it gave her little indication of who was winning the fight.

Finally, they worked their way far enough to one side that she had a path of escape directly behind Vader's back. She shoved herself out from under the chair and scrambled onto her hands and knees, barreling for the nearest corner, where she could be out of the way and still see. Just as she reached it, she felt strong fingers close around the back of her shirt, and she was plucked off the ground. Turning and frantically from side to side, it took her a few seconds to orient herself to the strange perspective. Then she understood that the armored foot below her belonged to Boba Fett, and she began to shriek and flail around in fury.

_"Schmoba!_ Schmoba, you creep, lemme go! Lemme--go!"

"I suggest, Princess, that you surrender _now,"_ Vader warned.

Shmi turned her head in time to see Leia step back, eyes wide with fear for her, and lower her arm. Then she dropped her lightsaber, letting it roll across the floor until it came to a stop at Lando's feet. He bent and picked it up, hooking it casually to his belt. Han stood grim faced by the door with him, and the stairs across from the dining room were now filled with storm troopers led by some bald guy with cyber-implants protruding from his head. She kicked and swung her arms wildly, trying to land a hit on Fett even if it wouldn't do any good through his armor.

_"Put--me--down!"_

"Fett," Vader ordered coolly. "Unhand my apprentice."

_"What?!"_ Han and Leia both yelled.

Boba released his grip without ceremony, and Shmi crashed back to the floor, landing on hands and knees. Gritting her teeth, she stood up again and whirled around, giving him a kick that sent a sharp spike of pain through her foot. "Ow! You jerk!"

"Come to me, child," Vader said, extending his hand.

Shmi almost quailed at the look of anguish that crossed Han's face as she moved to stand beside the Dark Lord. He shook his head, giving her a hard, intense look, but she turned away before he could see her tears and took the cold metal hand of the Sith Lord. Han came closer, his jaw clenched angrily.

"What do you think you're doing, kid?"

"What does it look like?" she asked sharply.

"Get over here with me! Now!"

_Shmi, listen to Han!_ Leia's voice came urgently into her mind.

"I have a new Master now, Solo. You don't give me orders anymore," she said, looking coldly up into Han's eyes. She caught a hint of tears glistening there before she cut her gaze to Leia's. "None of you do."

Chewie howled with outrage, and Han spun around, holding up a hand to still him before he could charge in and get himself killed trying to grab her. "No! Chewie--this is how she wants it then."

"A wise decision," Vader said.

"We'll see," Han said through clenched teeth. Looking back at Shmi, he said in a brittle tone, "This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."

She smirked, making the expression as nasty as she could with her face threatening to contort with tears on her. "I guess we'll have to call this one The Corellian Maneuver instead of the Skywalker Special."


	173. Dark Times

"All right," Ani interrupted his wife and brother before their banter could escalate further. "We're coming into their communications range now. Let's can the ship-to-ship chatter."

"Right. See you inside," Luke agreed. Then his comm switched off.

Ani turned to Isaly. "Don't wait for me."

"What?!"

"Look, I don't intend to turn myself over to him, but if you can get Shmi out, I want you to go. Don't take chances. Luke and I will be all right," Ani assured her, tensing for the coming argument.

"Why do you have to make everything so difficult?" she asked with an unhappy sigh.

"I guess it must be a Kenobi trait," he smiled, briefly touching her cheek with his index finger.

"Well, Kenobis don't leave each other behind, Ani," she said pointedly.

"No they don't," he agreed.

"So, why do you expect me to just leave?"

"I expect you to trust me, Isaly. Do whatever you have to do to get our daughter out of here, away from Vader. It's the children they really want now, more so than Luke or I," he said.

"That doesn't mean Vader won't try to turn you."

"That will happen sooner or later, no matter what we do here today. He won't succeed, I promise you," Ani said.

She sighed, and Jareth laid a troubled hand on Ani's shoulder. "Master, what about me?"

"You're to stay on the ship," Ani told him.

"But I want to help!" the boy exclaimed in protested.

"You can help by staying on the ship and being ready to take off quick if we need to escape in a hurry," said Ani.

"You mean I get to fly the ship?!"

Ani rubbed his eyes. "Maybe. Just try to keep it right side up like I showed you, okay?"

Leia sat crosslegged on the cot in her interrogation cell, trying unsuccessfully to meditate. Fear for Han and Shmi, as well as for her brothers, whom she knew would soon arrive to attempt a rescue, made it impossible for her to center. Twice she'd attempted to reach her niece through the Force, but either Vader was too close to the girl or Shmi was consciously blocking her out. She wouldn't put it past Little One, whose Force talent ran strongest with mind-to-mind techniques. Under most circumstances, she wouldn't have been able to block Leia--at least not for long--but this was not a normal situation, and Leia's Force powers were dependent on her own ability to concentrate.

Without opening her eyes, she reached for the jappor snippet and pulled it out from under her dress. The familiar carvings were worn and soft now, comforting to her touch as her fingers explored the contours. She placed her focus entirely on it, directing her awareness into each curve and as she explored the grain of the wood, trying to move deeper, to feel the small motes of Force energy inside it. Just when she began to connect with them, an icy chill swept through her still form, and the door of the cell slid open. Vader clomped and hissed his way up to her where he loomed, using the sheer power of his physical presence and the threatening rasp of his breathing as a weapon of intimidation. Leia remained still, offering no visible reaction, and began a mental recitation of the revised Jedi Code that she and her brothers had begun using after Mustafar.

_Emotion, yet peace.  
Ignorance, yet knowledge.  
Passion, yet serenity.  
Chaos, yet harmony.  
Death, yet the Force._

"That will not help you, Princess," Vader boomed into the silence.

_Jedi are the guardians of peace in the galaxy.  
Jedi use their powers to defend and to protect.  
Jedi respect all life, in any form.  
Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy.  
Jedi seek to improve themselves through knowledge and training._

She opened her eyes, slowly raising them to look at him, but kept the rest of her body entirely still. "My name is Leia Organa Kenobi."

"As you wish," Vader said uncaringly.

"Where is my niece?"

"She is no longer your concern," he replied.

"Where is she?!"

"She is being prepared to learn her first lesson in the ways of the Sith," he said as the door slid open behind him to admit three armor-clad stormtroopers. "As are you."

Leia stiffened, letting go of the necklace as her hands unconsciously clenched into fists. Then, drawing in a breath, she forced her fingers open again. Settling her hands on her knees, she narrowed her eyes, staring coldly up at him. "How could you do this?"

Rather than answer, Vader bent his head and stepped back to eye the necklace. "Where did you get that?!"

"Ani gave it to me," she replied carefully.

"It _belonged_ to Padme," he said, a dangerous undercurrent brewing in his emotions.

"Her journal said he needed it more than she did," Leia replied.

"Did he?" Vader sneered, right hand shooting out to snatch the charm before Leia could react.

She clenched her teeth on the urge to cry out in protest, holding herself completely still. Vader gave it a hard tug, snapping the cord from her neck, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes but forced it away. His fingers closed around it, and she winced, expecting to see its dust poured out onto the floor, but he merely lowered his arm.

"Then I shall return it to him when we meet," he said, wheeling about. "I will leave you to my troopers. Attempt to escape and the girl will learn your lesson as well as her own. I have an appointment with Solo."

"Wait!" Leia called after him.

He turned.

"Where is the man who saved my brother's life in the temple?"

"He was killed on Mustafar. By Padme and Obi Wan Kenobi."

Lando had to hand it to the kid. She was either entirely psychotic or she would grow up to be one of the best con artists he'd ever seen. He hoped it was the latter, especially since Vader had finally told him to take her back to his quarters. Truthfully, he'd expected the Dark Lord to make her stand there outside the cell with Fett while Han and Leia were interrogated. Part of him was furious at the very fact of those interrogations. Once again, the Sith hadn't said anything about _that_ part of the plan either. Using them as bait in a trap was one thing. Lando knew quite well how the Empire conducted its "interrogations," and selling a friend into torture was more than he was prepared to do. At the moment, however, his main concern was keeping the kid as far away from the detention area as he could without arousing suspicion. At least Vader had done the decent thing and let him take her. As he led her into his opulent living room, he wondered whether there might, in fact, be a wisp of compassion hiding somewhere under that black armor.

_Nah,_ he decided, gesturing toward the rich blue couch at the center of the room. _Probably just didn't want to have to pick up Fett pieces._

"Sit down," he offered.

Shmi trounced over to the couch and flopped onto the cushions, unintentionally bouncing a little as she landed. Lando's lips twitched, but he resisted the urge to smile. She glowered at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You'd better not try anything dumb, Calrissian. My Master doesn't like you very much," she grumbled.

"Which Master is that?" Lando asked.

"I only have _one_ Master!" she snapped.

"I know," Lando nodded, allowing the smile to curve over his lips. "And I'm sure he appreciates what you're trying to do right now. But it's not going to work."

"What are you talking about!?" she demanded.

"You made a deal with Vader, right? You for Han?" Lando asked.

"That's ridiculous! Lord Vader is the most powerful being in the galaxy. Nobody can make deals with him!" she growled.

"I did."

"Well, I didn't!"

"So, you're double crossing Han?" he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes!"

"Why did you kick me then?" he asked.

"Because you deserved it…?" she raised her own eyebrows as if to say that this was obvious.

Lando stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "You must be a really good actress then."

"Thank you."

"Not good enough to fool Darth Vader, though."

"Stop saying that!"

"Sorry," he shook his head. "Your Master's out of commission for a while. Somebody's going to have to pick up the slack or you'll never learn."

She narrowed her eyes, brow furrowing heavily, and she waved her right hand in the air between them. "Believe me, Calrissian. I sold out Han just like you. Darth Vader is my Sith Master."

Lando pursed his lips, tapping them lightly with his index finger as he studied her. After a few moments of silence, he walked over to couch and crouched in front of it, putting himself on eye level with her. She stared back at him with such determination that it took all his considerable skill not to crack a smile.

"Those Jedi tricks only work on the weak minded."

Luke set his jaw grimly as the city came into actual view through the clouds. Even though most of him was intent upon saving his sister, niece, and friend, a small corner of his mind registered what a beautiful place it was. He'd seen many locations like that in the last three years, on worlds he always wished that he always wished there was time to actually experience instead of just passing through them in the rush of another mission. He'd dreamt of leaving Tatooine to see the galaxy that his father had told him about, but the truth was he hadn't really gotten to _see_ much at all. Well, he'd also wanted adventures like Obi Wan had in his youth, and he supposed he'd gotten his share of those, so maybe it balanced out. He'd have to see what he thought about that idea once Leia, Han, and Shmi were safe again.

Suddenly, an inquiry from Artoo flashed upon his scope. Luke glanced at it absently, then blinked. Frowning, he shook his head and checked it again to be sure he'd read it right.

SHOULDN'T WE HAVE GONE BACK FOR THREEPIO?

"Gone back to the Fleet?" he asked.

YOU KNOW WHAT OBI WAN SAYS ABOUT SPLITTING UP A TEAM

Luke smiled. "It's all right. Threepio's with them."

THEN WE REALLY NEED TO HURRY!

"Just hang on," Luke chuckled. "We're almost there."

Lando moved away from the food prep station and came over to the kitchen table, where he set down the translucent blue tray he was carrying. Shmi eyed the two steaming mugs suspiciously. Whatever was in them smelled good, but she didn't trust Calrissian. He might just drug her and turn her over to Schmoba. Not that Schmoba could sell her to Jabba, but hey--he probably wasn't above trying to ransom her back to her family.

"Try it," he urged. "It's called hot chocolate. My secret recipe."

She stared.

Smiling, he took one of the mugs and raised it to his lips, sipping carefully. Peering at her over the top of it, he said, "All right? No poison."

"Try the other one," she told him.

He sighed. Setting the first mug down on the table, he pulled back the chair across from her, slid into it, and took the second one. He rolled it thoughtfully between his palms for a while, and she watched carefully to be sure he couldn't slip in an antidote.

"I'm sure you know that there are poisons available that wouldn't take effect right away," he said politely.

"I'm betting you'll go for something quick-acting. And not a poison, just something to knock me out."

"I see," he nodded. "Why's that?"

"There's no profit for you if you kill me. So, you sell me to Schmoba and he tries to get my grandpa to pay ransom. Or maybe the two of you are in it together."

"Schmoba?" Lando asked.

"Fett?"

"Ah, yes. I remember. Now why would you have come up with a name like that for him?" Lando asked, grinning widely.

"I don't like him."

"So you have a name like that for me?"

Shmi puckered her brow. "I don't think so. Give me time. I have to come up with something better than Schmando."

He looked down into the mug, then shook his head, another smile forming on his lips. Finally, he picked it up and sipped from it, using the fingers of his other hand to push the first one across the table toward her. She peered into it, frowning, and tested the temperature of the liquid carefully with one finger.

"Ow!" she jerked her hand back. "That's very hot."

"Sip it carefully," Lando nodded.

She rolled the mug between her hands, wondering idly whether or not it would be a good idea to toss it in his face. He deserved it, even if it did burn him. Especially if it burned him. But…

"So, tell me. How did you and…Schmoba make one another's acquaintance?" he asked.

"In Mos Eisley when I was four," she said. "Han and me ran into some trouble there when my aunt went to build her lightsaber."

"She built her lightsaber in Mos Eisley?" his eyebrows rose.

"No, see, my family used to live—_NO! HAN!"_


	174. The Promise

As Vader stepped out of Solo's cell, Calrissian rushed into the holding area. A weeping, red-faced Shmi was hot on his heels, just as the Sith Lord had expected her to be. Seeing him, both of them halted, and the girl shoved past Calrissian to grab him by the arm.

"You told me you wouldn't hurt him!" she screamed.

"I told you that I would not turn him over to Fett," Vader corrected, then shook her off and swiveled to face the waiting bounty hunter. "You may take Captain Solo to Jabba the Hutt after I have the Kenobis."

"Lord Vader--" Calrissian began.

_"You gave me your word!"_ Shmi shrieked, cutting him off.

Vader stabbed a finger into her face. _"You_ never had any intention of honoring your end of our bargain. Consider this your first lesson. The next time you attempt to deceive a Sith Lord, you must bury your plans far deeper."

"I hate you!" she cried, her rage a palpable force that crackled between them.

"Good," he said. She did not yet know how to use that power, but she would learn. Yes. She would learn well.

More screams from from Solo filtered out to them, and she hurled herself bodily against the door. "Han! Han, I'm sorry!"

"He's no good to me dead," Fett complained.

"He will not be permanently damaged," assured the Dark Lord.

"Lord Vader!" Calrissian said again, insistently. Vader looked at him, and he backpedaled a step. "What about Leia and the Wookiee?"

Shmi spun around to face him, plastering her back against the door. "If you take my aunt, Grandpa will come for you."

_Yes, he will,_ Vader thought, sincerely wishing that he could smile. Aloud, he told Calrissian, "They must never again leave this city."

"That was _never_ a condition of our agreement, nor was turning Han over to this bounty hunter!" Calrissian cried.

"Perhaps you think you're being treated unfairly," Vader said threateningly, taking almost as much pleasure in Calrissian's fear as in the dawn of understanding he felt from his now unwilling apprentice.

"No," gritted Calrissian.

Vader turned to the girl again, "And now you have seen lesson number two. Fairness is determined by those who wield the greatest power. And the greatest power in the galaxy is the Dark Side of the Force. Come. We must see to travel arrangements for your father and uncle."

* * *

Shmi stood unspeaking beside Vader in the carbon freezing chamber. Lando had told him that the freezing unit could kill a human, probably in an attempt to change Vader's mind. All it had done was make him decide to test the horrible thing on Han. She tried to argue him out of it, of course, but he wouldn't listen to a word she said. He didn't trust her anymore, and if he didn't, then none of her cute kid stuff was going to do Han any good.

Strangely enough, she realized she still felt bad about losing Vader's trust. Despite how much she wished he would fall in the stupid freezer himself right now, she couldn't ignore the change in his feelings toward her. Even after everything he'd done today, she couldn't forget how he jumped down to save her from the lava on Mustafar or how it had felt to watch him plummet down into it with her father, all because of her. In a lot of ways, she realized that his feelings were like Han's--at least, the way Han's had been a long time ago when she'd first met him. Vader wasn't even surprised that she had lied to him. He expected it. He'd known all along, too, just like Han had known what she was trying to do by agreeing to go with him. That didn't make him any less mad about it. In fact, it probably made him madder, and his kind of anger made Han look as tame as Grandma. What was worse, her father was here somewhere, and when he realized what she'd done to Uncle Anakin, he was probably going to be upset.

She tried hard to keep her own feelings under control, but when Han, Leia, and Chewie were marched into the room, she couldn't stop the hot tears from coursing down her cheeks. With Schmoba in the lead, a squad of six stormtroopers led them to the freezing platform. Both Han and Leia's hands were bound. Threepio was strapped to Chewie's back with only his head, torso, and one arm attached. For some reason, his head was on backward, and he kept twisting around in a vain effort to see what was happening. His arm was moving around like crazy, as if the lack of his other limbs somehow sent the remaining one into overdrive. He flailed around, alternately pointing, gesturing, and covering his eyes. As the group was herded into place, Shmi saw that the remaining pieces of his body were randomly bundled to the Wookiee's back with his legs and other arm sticking out at odd angles.

_Aunt Leia, I'm sorry!_ she called desperately.

Leia's answering touch was warm and soothing, _I know. We're both proud of you. It's going to be all right. Daddy and Uncle Luke will get us out of this yet._

Shmi whimpered and sniffled, squeezing her eyes shut tight in an attempt to stifle her tears. Threepio was rambling on incessantly, making matters worse by sheer weight of annoyance, and she had to bite back the urge to order him to shut up. It wouldn't help anything, and it would probably make him huff and complain about how rude she was.

"If only you had attached my legs, I wouldn't be in this ridiculous position. Now, remember, Chewbacca, you have a responsibility to me, so don't do anything foolish," he was saying.

Han sidled closer to Lando, asking warily, "What's goin' on, _buddy?_"

"You're being put into carbon freeze," explained Lando.

Fett moved away from them to stand at Vader's other side. "What if he doesn't survive? He's worth a lot of money to me."

"The Empire will compensate you if he dies," promised Vader. Then, he ordered, "Put him in!"

"No!" Shmi cried, surging forward. Before she had taken three steps, Vader's hand came down on her shoulder and he hauled her roughly back to his side. "Master!"

At the same time, Chewie, realizing what was about to happen, let out a wild howl and attacked the stormtroopers surrounding Han. More Imperials rushed in to join the melee, and Shmi saw them start to club the distraught Wookiee with their blaster rifles. Still, he continued to fight them off, with Threepio screaming in panic and trying to protect himself with his single arm. Shmi struggled determinedly in Vader's grip, but it never loosened, and all she managed to do was wriggle around a few inches before getting yanked back into place.

Finally, one of the Imps raised his weapon as if to bash poor Chewie directly in the face. Shmi screamed and redoubled her efforts, but Han broke away from the troopers surrounding him and shouted for his partner to stop. Vader nodded to the guards in a signal for them to let Han break up the fight.

"Chewie! Chewie, this won't help me. Hey!" he yelled. Then he gave the Wookiee a stern look and said in a quieter tone, "Save your strength. There'll be another time."

Shmi held her breath, praying that he would listen. Chewie's life-debt to Han meant that he would do whatever he had to in order to keep Han safe, but his fierce loyalty was about far more than ritual honor. He loved Han, and he knew that Han loved him just as much—which might make him listen to reason or might make him fight all the harder. Chewie didn't look like he was ready to give up the fight.

"The kid and Leia. You have to take care of 'em! You hear me?" Han urged. Shmi felt a surge of relief to know in no uncertain terms that he still felt the need to include her, that she hadn't broken his trust as well as Anakin's in her attempt to protect him.

Chewie hesitated, and Leia moved to his side, looking up at him imploringly. He turned from her to Han, paused, and then wailed a long, doleful farewell. Before he could change his mind, the guards had slapped electrobinders on his wrists. He was too distraught even to protest, despite his aversion to being bound this way, and Shmi cringed, knowing there was nothing that she could do to help him.

Then Han turned to Leia, and Shmi closed her eyes as the weight of a grief that she could only faintly grasp crashed into her. She hoped that Leia was right, that her father and uncle Luke would come in time to get them out of this, but she from her aunt's emotions that there was no certainty of that. Drawing in a ragged breath, she opened her eyes and watched through the glisten of tears as the two people she loved as truly and deeply as her own parents were torn apart before their last kiss had even ended.

The guards dragged Han back, forcing him onto the hydraulic platform that would drop him into what would either be carbonite hibernation or death. Shmi wanted more than anything to cover her eyes with her hands, but she clenched her teeth and watched. Leia started forward with sudden, intense desperation, making Shmi wonder if they'd even resolved their argument about Jabba's palace.

"I love you!" she cried.

Han's voice was calm and confident, even gentle. There was a promise in it, though Shmi had no words to articulate all the things it expressed. "I know."

"Han…" she whimpered.

"It's okay, kid," he said evenly. "I'll talk to you when I get back to the ship."

Unable to watch any longer, Shmi squeezed her eyes shut tight, sobbing violently as the platform dropped. An interminable time dragged by in which she was conscious of nothing but the thunderous hissing, squealing racket of machinery, her own shaking body, and raging fear. Finally, there was a tremendous thump, a gasp of shock from Leia, and everything went terrifyingly silent save for the ever-present rasp of Vader's breather. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, and her hand shot to her mouth in horror at the sight of Han's face contoured within a solid block of carbonite.

"Well, Calrissian, did he survive?" Vader demanded.

Lando moved around the block and knelt, checking the sensor panel on the side. After a long pause, he said grimly, "Yes, he's alive. And in perfect hibernation."

She let out a small, whimpering breath of relief. Leia cringed against Chewie, and Lando got grimly to his feet. Vader turned to Fett, and Shmi felt a rush of hot anger returning.

"He's all yours, bounty hunter."

"Thank you," the weasel said with a nod of his head.

"Don't thank him. He's signed your death warrant," Shmi snapped.

"We'll see, kid," Fett sneered.

"Enough," Vader glared down at her. Then he ordered, "Reset the chamber for our next guest."

An Imp approached, pausing before Vader obsequiously. "The Kenobis are in the city, Lord."

"Good. See to it they find their way in here. Calrissian!"

Lando turned to face him again. "Yes…Lord Vader," he gritted.

"Take the princess, the Wookiee, and my new apprentice to my ship."

"You said Leia and Chewbacca would be left in the city under my supervision!" exclaimed Lando.

"I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further," Vader replied. Then he calmly shoved Shmi toward Lando, who caught her by the shoulders and steadied her. She yanked away from him, racing over to Leia, and buried her face in the familiar softness of her side.

Lando moved over to them, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I…uh…"

"We know," Leia said coldly. "You're sorry."

"Calrissian," Vader called again.

Shmi looked up, frowning in consternation. What could he possibly want now? Lando squared his shoulders and turned yet again.

Vader raised a hand, and Leia's lightsaber rose off of Lando's belt, sailing into the Sith Lord's hand.


	175. The Scattering

Luke, Ani and Isaly made their way through the deserted corridors in search of a computer outlet. Before they could split up, they would have to know exactly where Han, Leia, and Shmi were being held, and the quickest route to that information was Artoo. The droid trailed along behind them until they found one, then Ani waved him ahead and he plugged in, tootling busily while he communicated with the city's computer system.

After a moment or two, he projected a holographic schematic, which Isaly bent to study while the boys stood warily keeping watch at either side. "Wait, it looks like they--"

Luke cut her off with a warning wave, and footsteps began to sound in the adjacent corridor. They quickly pressed themselves against the wall, and Artoo unplugged, scooting out hurriedly out of view. Peering around the corner, Luke frowned as he caught sight of an armor-clad humanoid who could only be the bounty hunter that Shmi disliked so much--what did she call him? Schmoba?--with a group of stormtroopers and uniformed guards. The guards were pushing some sort of odd floating metallic block.

Suddenly, the troopers turned, catching sight of him, and opened fire. He ducked back behind the wall, drawing his blaster in the same motion. Before the Imperials could get off a second volley, he stepped out again, squeezed off a couple of shots that sent their white-clad bodies crumpling to the floor. The remaining guards hurriedly pushed the block into the next hall, and the bounty hunter raised his arm, firing off a near miss that tore a huge, blackened chunk out of the wall beside Luke.

"Nice going!" Ani called as he and Isaly dashed for an opening into an adjacent passage.

"Well, you were complaining that this was too easy, weren't you?" Luke shot back, running after them.

"I thought that was you."

"Uncle Luke!"

He stopped short and wheeled about, following his niece's voice to the end of the hall, but Isaly shoved past him. He and Ani reached the end, which opened into a circular junction between several connecting corridors just as she blasted one stormtrooper and spun to avoid being hit by another. Ani raised his arm to knock the second one's weapon aside with the Force, but before he could actually do so, Shmi squirmed past two of the guards who were surrounding her and Leia, pulled a blaster pistol from her boot and nailed the trooper in the back.

"Daddy, Uncle, it's a trap!"

The guards and Isaly all lunged for her, and she dropped to the floor. Luke lost sight of her after that, but the distraction gave Leia the moment she needed to break free of the remaining stormtroopers. With her hands still bound, she spun around, directing a Force-empowered kick into the stomach of the one nearest to her. He flew backwards, and she whirled again, sliding past a second to help Isaly with the uniformed men.

Luke blasted the other stormtrooper before he could follow her, but the durasteel door that led into the passage where the girls were suddenly began to slide closed. He started toward it, but Ani grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"Leia and Isaly can handle the guards," he said, his tone distant and oddly empty. "Vader is waiting for us."

"Ani, so what?! We came for them!" Luke cried.

"Do you think he'll just let us go? The girls are doing their job. We have to do ours."

* * *

Jareth sat with his leg draped over the arm of the pilot's chair. He sighed and let out a long breath, staring boredly at the ceiling. His heel banged slowly and rhythmically against the seat. Tiring of the ceiling, he turned his attention to the cockpit window, where he could see the blue sky deepening into gold. This was a bad idea, he decided--a very bad idea.

Of course it didn't matter what he thought. Ani had told him to stay here. He'd made it very plain. So plain, in fact, that there was no way he could leave without being willfully disobedient to his Master. He pounded his fist into his palm and went back through the conversation again.

_"Jareth, remember what I told you," Ani said as he and Isaly started out of the ship. "You're to stay in the cockpit. Do you understand me?"_

"Yes, Master."

"No matter what happens, Jareth. You stay—in—the cockpit."

"Even if you and Vader come out fighting on the platform?" he asked hopefully.

"Especially if Vader and I come out fighting," Ani nodded.

"Even if you're laying on the ground out there yelling my name?" he persisted.

"Yes."

"Even if you're saying, 'Nevermind what I said! Help, help!'?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"A hundred percent sure?"

"A hundred percent, Jareth," Ani nodded.

"So, you're telling me that you want me to stay in the cockpit," Jareth frowned.

"That is precisely what I am telling you."

"What if the city blows up?

"Then you'd better be in the cockpit or you won't make it."

"Good point, Master."

"Yes, it is. So, tell me, my Padawan. What are you going to do when I leave?"

"I'm going to stay in the cockpit."

But suddenly, he jerked upright and swung his body around to place his foot on the floor. For a moment, his striped hair stood straight up in alarm. Growling impatiently, he plastered his hands down on top of his head and forced it to lie flat again. Then, leaning forward, he closed his eyes, brow furrowing in concentration.

"Shmi?"

* * *

Shmi scrambled out of the last pair of hands that had grabbed on to her and staggered forward, sprawling onto the floor with her hands outstretched in front of her. Then she felt another hand close on her ankle and drag her backwards just as the heavy durasteel door that they had just come through banged into place—right where hand had been a moment before. Swallowing hard, she craned her neck and saw her mother sprawled behind her in a position almost identical to hers, except that Isaly's hand had been the one that pulled her back.

Then she noticed that Lobot and about a dozen of Lando's guards had them surrounded. "Thanks for the rescue, Mommy. You think you can do something about those guys?"

"I'll see what I can do," Isaly replied grimly.

"That won't be necessary," said Lando, gesturing from his men to the injured stormtroopers who were littered across the floor of the intersection that they were now in. "Hold them in the security tower. And keep it quiet."

Shmi's mouth popped open, and she picked herself up off the floor. "Calrissian? _You_ are double-crossing Vader?"

"Let's not let that get around," Lando said as he moved to unbind Leia's hands.

"Little One, who's your friend?" Isaly asked as she rose.

"Um," said Shmi.

"I'm Lando Calrissian," he replied, stepping from Leia to Chewie as his men carted off the stormtroopers. "And, I'm afraid there won't be time for formal introductions."

"What do you think you're doing?" Leia demanded.

"We're getting out of here," Lando replied as Chewie's binders snapped off.

"I knew all along. It had to be a mistake," declared Threepio.

Chewie was having none of that. He grabbed Lando by the throat, his powerful hands forcing the human instantly to his knees. Lando gagged and gasped for breath, eyes bulging. Isaly frowned a little and moved her hand to Shmi's shoulder.

"Okay, I missed something."

"He sold Han to Schmoba Fett--well, actually him, Vader, and Schmoba have been playing musical smugglers, but whatever," explained Shmi.

Lando gagged, shaking his head wildly.

"Chewie don't strangle him," Shmi said.

"What? Why not?" Chewie barked in surprise, but his grip on Lando's throat let up a bit.

Lando shot her a relieved, hopeful look.

"Because I'm gonna do it!" she declared.

Chewie let out a harsh chuckle but he didn't move away from Lando's throat.

Lando's eyes bulged even wider, and he shook his head. "No, wait!"

"Do you think that after what you did to Han we're going to trust you?" Leia demanded.

Chewie's grip tightened again, and Lando rasped out, "I had no choice…"

"Oh, so we understand, don't we, Chewie? He had no choice," Leia mocked.

Isaly crossed her arms, "Oh yes. Perfectly understandable."

"I'm just trying to help..." Lando trailed off, beginning to turn purple with lack of air.

"We don't need any of your help," Leia told him.

"H-a-a-a-a…" gasped Lando.

"What?" Leia asked, freezing.

"It sounds like Han," Shmi said.

"There's still a chance to save Han...I mean, at the East…Platform..." Lando forced out.

"Chewie," Leia commanded.

The Wookiee released him, and Lando sagged a bit, hands moving to his throat as he struggled to get his breath. Leia and Isaly grabbed him by the arms and hauled him up again, giving him precious little time to recover. They stopped only long enough for the adults to pick up some of the fallen blaster rifles that the stormtroopers had used. Then Isaly hefted Shmi onto her back, and all of them raced for the East Platform where Fett's ship was preparing to take off.

* * *

Panting and out of breath, Jareth skidded to a halt just inside an open doorway that led out onto a wide, circular balcony. He planted his palm on the doorframe, sucking in air as he tried to get his bearings. When he left the ship, he'd known exactly which way to go without having to think about it. He guessed it was the Force telling him, but for some reason, the feeling had faded. Maybe Shmi was moving—which would make sense if she was in some kind of trouble—but that was going to make it really hard for him to find her. He had no idea how this place was laid out and no idea where to start looking.

"Okay," he told himself. "She's moving. I can't see where. That means I gotta change my perspective…"

A familiar whistle interrupted his monologue, and he half turned to see Artoo. The droid rolled up beside him, giving a low, whistle that sounded like a humanoid's sad sigh. He smiled and slipped his hand onto the little guy's dome.

"Hey, Artoo. You get lost too?"

Artoo beeped an affirmative.

"Well, c'mon, we better see if we can find them. I don't know what's goin' on, but it's not good," Jareth said. He pivoted, leading the way back inside, and had just entered the hallway when he heard the sound of running footsteps. Wheeling about again, he raced back out just in time to see Isaly go racing past with Shmi on her back.

"Hey! Wait for us!"

"Jareth! Where have you _been?"_ Shmi cried.

"I was looking for you!" he shouted back, dashing after them.

"You were supposed to stay in the cockpit!" Isaly reminded him without turning.

"Yeah, well…um…you might need me!"

"Hurry _up!"_ Shmi shouted in exasperation. "We're trying to save Han from a bounty hunter!"

"What?" he cried, barreling after them as they raced along the balcony's arc and then back inside through another series of long, narrow hallways. The halls eventually branched out into a wider junction, which they ran across to a closed door. Some guy he'd never seen before tapped the control panel on the way beside it, and Leia ducked through even before it was open. The rest of the group followed her out, but the ship that had been on the platform was already in the air and angling away.

Chewie howled in despair, firing on it as it moved higher, but Leia stood motionless, staring up at it. Isaly approached her, resting a hand on her shoulder, and Shmi slid off of her mother's back. Her face was ashen and pasty, already stained with dirt and tear tracks. He thought she would probably cry again, but she only stood there, shaking her head a little and watching as the ship got farther away. He wet his lips and started toward her, but before he could get there, Threepio yelled a warning.

"Oh! Chewie, they're behind you!"

He whirled around in time to see a huge bunch of stormtroopers come piling onto the stairs in the junction they had just left. Everybody dove toward the sides of the doors as the troopers started shooting at them. When the first round of shots ended, Leia and the new guy ducked back through followed by Isaly and Chewie.

Jareth grabbed Shmi by the arm, pulling her along with him. The armored imperials chased after them, gaining until Isaly turned, ducked around them and blasted them, giving the kids cover to follow Leia. He was panting heavily again, and felt a nagging pain in his side, but he forced himself not to slow down. They reached more of the low white stairs, and this time there was a turbolift at the top. Heaving a labored breath, he ran up to the landing, then paced around anxiously waiting for the lift door to open.

Finally, it slid back and he followed the adults inside, though the tight quarters forced him to press up against. He turned around to watch the white metal door seal them off from their pursuers, but before it was even halfway shut, the stitch in his side exploded into a blistering agony that made him stagger forward, stumbling back out again. As he fell, he released Shmi's hand, but she squealed his name and squeezed through the narrow opening before anyone else could see what was happening.

"Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling beside him.

"Yeah," he nodded craning his neck to look up at the stormtroopers who had come to an uncertain halt in front of them, "but Master Ani's in bad trouble."

"I know," she said grimly, taking his arm and hauling him up with her. Then she sighed and took a step toward the trooper in the front of the group. Jareth guessed he was the commander but he didn't know enough about stormtrooper ranks to be sure. "We surrender. Take us to Lord Vader." 


	176. The Shadow Man

Vader stood motionless, waiting for the elevator platform to deliver the Kenobi brothers to him. In the Force, he sensed overlapping emotion--anger, fear, determination, excitement, grief. It was a simple matter to pinpoint the fear as emanating from the younger brother and the grief as belonging to Ani. The other feelings mingled in such a way that it was difficult to find a point of origin. There was something new between these two, he realized as he watched them step off the platform and cautiously turn to either side, instinctively guarding one another's backs as they scanned the area.

He recognized the thing, of course, but he had not expected to feel it from these two. He had never sensed a hint of such a bond between them on any of his previous encounters with them. Even on Mustafar, when he seen both together and knew who they were, he had not felt this manner of unity, the cohesiveness of a partnership that ran deeper than a relationship of siblings or of student and teacher, though he could taste hints of those connections now as well. This new synthesis would be problematic--difficult to break, but not impossible. Perhaps it could even be turned to Vader's advantage. It was young, and Anakin Kenobi's misplaced loyalty to _him_ had roots that were far more deeply entrenched in the Knight's psyche. Shattering such a bond by forcing him to kill his brother would crystallize his hatred and rage, making him an even greater Sith than he already had the potential to become.

The boys turned a complete circle back to back, ending with Luke facing Vader. He started forward, and Ani looped around to join him, moving smoothly to his brother's right. Even the pace they kept was unconsciously uniform and in perfect cadence. Good. The greater the tension caused by the break the greater a weapon Ani's hate would become.

"The Force is with you, young Kenobis," he observed. "But one of you is not a Jedi _yet…_"

"Uncle Anakin," Ani said as they climbed up to the raised walkway upon which the Sith Lord stood. "We don't have to do it this way."

"So," Vader replied, making the word a sneer as pushed aside the boy's predicable attempt at peaceful resolution. "He has learned the truth."

"It would've been rather hard not to explain things after what happened on Mustafar, my uncle," Ani shrugged.

"But does he know everything he needs to know?" Vader pressed, smirking inwardly as he felt the words sink into Luke's psyche like well aimed barbs.

He jerked his head toward his older brother in surprise. "What?"

"I have no secrets from my brother," Ani declared.

"Ani, what's he talking about?"

Ani shook his head. "Nothing."

"Not all secrets are yours to tell, boy."

"Ani?"

"He's trying to break your focus," Ani said calmly, raising the lightsabers in his hands. Green and blue blades flowed to life. "Don't listen to him."

_Interesting,_ he thought, studying the set as well as he could in the dark chamber and through the confines of his mask's limited vision. Despite the differing colors of the blades, that is exactly what they were--a matched set. Had he become a real Jar'Kai stylist then? When he had seen a lightsaber in both of Ani's hands, Vader had expected one of the hilts he carried to be Anakin Skywalker's old weapon, the weak, sentimental gesture of the foolishly loyal and consummately stubborn man that Obi Wan Kenobi's son had become. But no…

Shaken, Luke raised his own weapon, confirming Vader's half-formed thought as the blue blade flared. Perfect, Vader thought as he brought up the red blade in his hand to meet them. _And how typically Obi Wan. The old fool has done half the work already. _

They lunged with perfect coordination, raining overhead blows with blue blades. Vader moved back and swept his arm upward, twisting his wrist to catch both of them on the horizontal line of his lightsaber. Forcing them to follow him, he continued the motion of his arm, bringing it outward to drive the red blade between them. A Force push drove Ani backward, allowing Vader to close with Luke. He could feel the youth's excitement warring with caution now, anger simmering hotter as his brother was knocked away. Their weapons clashed in a rapid, aggressive exchange in which the Sith allowed him the illusion of control, continuing to move backward toward the opening of the freezing chamber. He was fast, agile, and his strikes were remarkably well controlled, but he lacked the physical power necessary to truly challenge Vader. As his momentum built enough to help him, Vader swung in a one-handed arc at his head, forcing him to duck.

A moment too late, he realized that he had slightly misjudged his proximity to one of the pipes which hung down around him, and his lightsaber sliced through it. Steam billowed around him for a moment, the Force whispered warning, and as his vision cleared, Ani's green blade was slicing inward at his shoulder. He pivoted, narrowly avoiding the cut, but rather than capitalize on the advantage, Ani stepped back.

"Uncle, stop! We're _not_ enemies!"

"If you will not fight, then you will meet your destiny," Vader replied.

As they spoke, Luke began edging carefully to Vader's left. Ani hesitated, then moved to the right in support of his brother. Vader took an unhurried step backward, studying their stances and positioning while he kept them from _quite_ being able to flank him. He could easily see Obi Wan's hand in their tactics, and he relished how naturally they fell into the old patterns of Kenobi and Skywalker, probably without even realizing what they were doing or how predictable it would make them to him.

Suddenly, Luke's gaze moved downward, fixing on the second lightsaber which now hung from Vader's belt. Ah, yes. The twin sister.

"She fought well," he said. "But not well enough."

"No. You're lying. My sister isn't dead," Luke shook his head slowly, but as Vader intended, his anger flared, Jedi calm broken.

"Perhaps I have not finished with her yet," Vader said casually.

With a growl of rage, Luke rushed him. Unconcerned, Vader calmly caught his attack and shoved him away. Ani stepped in to engage the Sith, but Luke came in again, crowding him and forcing him to step back to keep their weapons from tangling with one another. His foolish charge had left Luke overbalanced, and he struggled to keep his footing while Vader hammered him with quick, heavy blows, ultimately forcing him to one knee and sending the lightsaber spinning from his grasp. Another swing forced him to dive sideways, toppling off the platform on which they stood to land near the covered opening of the freezing pit.

Vader leapt down after him, but as he landed, Ani came hurtling over his shoulder. He spun around, using the turn to gain momentum, and his blue blade drove Vader back away from Luke. The power of his one handed attack took Vader by surprise. He expected speed; the hallmark of two-bladed lightsaber styling was rapid movement and unpredictable switching between defensive and offensive blade hands. The goal was to keep the opponent on the defensive, never quite sure which hand would deliver the next blow. In most cases, though, one-handed attacks were physically weaker. Ani's prosthetic arms gave him no strength advantage over Vader, and the Sith should easily have been able to command the situation, deflecting or redirecting blows until Ani's own pace wore him out. Instead, he found himself jarred and off balance as each attack or parry directed more power than the one before it.

He was so busy fending Ani off that it took him several seconds to understand _what_ was empowering those blows. Astonishingly, the boy was using the Force to absorb Vader's counterattacks and channel the energy back at him _through_ the mechnos. He wasn't even tiring!

"I can show you how, Uncle Anakin--" he started to say, but broke off as he had drop into a crouch avoid a high chop at his neck from Vader.

Luke moved in again, and Vader half-turned, using the Force to open the freezing chamber as he moved. He slashed toward Luke's chest, and the inexperienced youth sprang back, only registering the danger as he lost his footing and sailed downward. Ani had straightened by then, and he spun to shout his brother's name, dropping his guard. As the lighsabers fell, Vader drove his own blade forward again, piercing the Knight's side.

Ani screamed, crumpling to the ground at his feet. Vader looked down at him and waved a hand to seal the freezing chamber as steam began to fill it. Ani stared up at him in disbelief, rolling to one side.

"All too easy," Vader remarked with a touch of regret. He moved over to the edge of the pit, peering through the steam. "Perhaps you are not as strong as the Emperor thought."

A clang overhead startled him, and he looked up to see Luke, clinging to a cluster of pipes and hoses attached to the carbon outlet. _Or perhaps not…_

"Impressive…" he said as he slashed at the hose. "Most impressive."

The boy jumped down again, landing on the other side of the pit, and the lightsaber attached to Vader's belt suddenly jerked free, sailing into Luke's outstretched hand. "I think you'll find that I'm full of surprises."

"You have learned much, young one," Vader allowed as he closed the distance between them. As he did, Luke spun, snatching the now dangling hose and directing a blast of steam into Vader's face. _Blast!_ he thought as the blue blade sliced toward him through the steam. His lightsaber came up to block it, and they moved through another rapid exchange of attacks and parries.

He could still feel fear in the boy, heightened now by his concern for Ani, but he kept it tightly reigned in. Good. It was a short step from fear to anger, and if one could control the first, one could also wield the second.

"Obi Wan has taught you well. You have controlled your fear. Now, release your anger," he goaded. "Only your hatred can destroy me."

Luke shook his head, still fighting, "I am a Jedi."

"Your destiny lies with me--"

"No!"

"Obi Wan knew this to be true. That is why he kept you hidden from me--" Vader broke off as Luke vaulted into the air, somersaulting over his shoulder.

He spun around to lock weapons again, but Luke knew better than to try to match him strength for strength the way his brother had. He kept himself a flurry of motion, striking and darting with lightning fast cuts and slashes. Eventually, he knew that Luke would tire, but he was beginning to be unsure whether waiting for that to happen would be an entirely wise course of action. This was not what he had expected. In fact, the entire encounter disturbed him. Where had these two learned the tactics they were using here? Certainly not from Obi Wan, the Soresu Master. Vader was forced to pursue him and broke off his verbal attack for the time being to focus on defending himself. The seeds had been planted now in any case. They would come to fruition without further effort on his part.

He found himself edged closer and closer to the side of the platform, and finally, Luke lunged again, shoving him off. No, this was definitely _not_ in the plan…


	177. Outside Looking In

"Do something!" Isaly screamed.

Lando frantically jabbed at the lift control buttons, but they were already moving and the door wouldn't open again until they stopped. Artoo, crammed into a corner by Chewie's leg, was frantically searching for a computer socket, but there wasn't one. She twisted about, slamming her foot violently against the door in frustration.

"As soon it stops, I have to get a warning out to the rest of the city," Lando said. "Then we'll go back down after them."

Leia and Chewie nodded in agreement, but Isaly shook her head. "No. I'll go back down, the rest of you get to the Falcon and get out of here."

"Are you crazy?" Leia cried, and Chewie let out a howl of vehement protest.

"No," Isaly shook her head again. "It's the only way. I can't leave them, but somebody has to go, and we don't know if the boys are going to make it out at all."

"I am _not_ leaving you behind!" insisted Leia.

"You're going to have to, and we don't have time to argue about it," Isaly told her.

"That's not the way we do things in this family, Isaly!"

"It is this time--"

_"No!"_ Leia shook her head. The turbolift car lurched to a halt and the door slid open. They all sprang out, pouring into a small alcove with an open corridor on one side and a sealed bulkhead directly in front of them. Lando keyed a sequence into the door, but it didn't respond.

"The security code has been changed," he said, but neither woman was listening.

"Leia," Isaly laid her hands on her sister-in-law's shoulders. "Do you know where they are? Can you tell if Luke's all right?"

Leia closed her eyes, bowing her head in concentration, but her a moment later, her shoulders slumped. "He's in trouble. I don't know where, but he's hurt. There's just too much going on here for me to find him."

"Ani's been hurt too. You're the only one left, the only Jedi besides Dad. You _have_ to go!" Isaly told her firmly. Lando brushed past her back, reaching for the intercom panel in the wall beside her.

"I can't just leave you!"

"There's no other choice. You know what will happen if Vader has time to lay another trap--if Dad has to come to rescue us alone! He can't beat Vader one on one anymore!"

"He'll kill you!"

Isaly shook her head. "I'm no threat to him, and neither are the kids. If he kills anyone, it will be Luke and Ani, but I don't believe he could go through with that."

"Attention! This is Lando Calrissian. The Empire has taken control of the city. I advise everyone to leave before more Imperial troops arrive," Lando's voice interrupted the argument.

Leia's hands flex and unflexed at her sides as they listened. She stared up at the ceiling, and Isaly could see her desperately searching her mind for another solution. There wasn't one; the Kenobis were out of time. Not everyone was going to make it out now that this trap had been sprung, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

"Artoo!" Threepio spoke up suddenly, gesturing at an outlet by the communication panel. "You can tell the computer to override the security system. The astromech motored closer and extended his interface plug toward the opening. Quickly, Isaly pulled Leia into a hug.

"It'll be all right," she promised, then dropped her blaster rifle and raced back to the turbolift.

"Isaly, wait!" Leia called after her, but she slipped back into the car and waited for the door to close, then laced her hands atop her head.

When the door opened again, she could only see the backs of several white-armored bodies. The kids had to be in front of them, but there were just too many of them for her to see through. Then as she stepped out of the car, they turned around again, aiming their blasters.

"Hold your fire!" an order cracked out as one of them stepped out from the mass. "She's unarmed.

"Mommy?!" Shmi's head poked around the trooper's back.

Jareth peeked out from the other side, smirking, "I told you she'd come back."

"Mother, what are you doing?!"

"I could ask you the same question," Isaly replied calmly while the stormtrooper signaled for two of his subordinates to bind her hands.

"Um," said Shmi with a cough. "Well. That would be…Jareth's fault! Yeah."

"I _fell!_ How is it my fault I fell?!"

"This is going to be a long trip," sighed the stormtrooper they were hiding behind.

* * *

"Isaly, wait!" Leia shouted, but before she could move, Artoo let out a shrill scream, and Lando looked down to see a blue surge of electric current crackling up the droid's computer arm. Chewie bent to pull him loose, but by the time they'd gotten him free, Isaly was gone.

"If it's at all possible, Lobot and the Wing Guard will get them out," Lando said, moving his hand to Leia's shoulder. She shrugged him violently away.

Sighing ruefully, he gestured at the open passageway and started toward it. "This way."

As they ran along, they passed crowds of Cloud City residents, some with boxes but mostly with no more than their skins, all frantically looking for the quickest way out. Lando wondered exactly how this had all happened. The biggest thing he'd had to worry about this morning was a labor dispute that was probably going to slow production in the mines for the next few months. Now the Empire was suddenly in control of his city and everything he'd built was going to start lining Imperial coffers.

The crazy thing was, despite all that, he had to admit that he was starting to see why Han stuck with these people. He would have bet any money that the Han Solo he remembered wouldn't have lasted an hour around this pack-minded clan, especially with their overt ties to the Rebel Alliance and the Jedi Order. The Jedi! Of all things--Han and the Jedi! Han's idea of justice was to shoot the guy who cheated him and take back what he'd lost plus some for the trouble.

There was something about these Kenobis, though. They weren't like any Jedi that Lando had ever heard about. The fierce family loyalty was something he rarely saw at all, and it wasn't something that the Jedi had ever been known for. Jedi weren't even supposed to _have_ families. Yet all of them, even down to the kids, were ready not only to fight tooth and nail to save each other, walk into traps for each other, hand themselves over to _Darth Vader_ to protect each other--every single one of them was ready to do it for _Han!_

Lando, on the other hand, had been well prepared to let Vader use Han as bait in a trap. The kid had gone a long way toward changing his mind about that, but what really turned things around in his mind was watching Han with them in the freezing chamber. Now, of course, the whole idea of using a carbon freezing facility on a human didn't sit well with him, and having to stand there while it happened to somebody who was supposed to be his friend--no matter what Han might have done to him in the past--gave him a cold, gut-clenching feeling of being every one of the things that Shmi had pegged him as in the dining room. It only got worse when he saw how Han faced up to the situation when the time came, and when Vader altered their agreement _again_ once the freezing was over, well, that had been the last straw.

He'd already made up his mind before Kenobis had started popping up at every turn, but the fact that they were here and what they were doing was no less astonishing to him. He'd intended to help save Han, not to get caught up in this family's battle with Lord Vader. Yet here he was, and he felt as if he was being carried along like a hapless raft caught in some wild rapids, unable to do anything but hang on.

Lando wasn't a man who enjoyed not being in control of a situation. He was a gambler, which meant that taking risks came naturally to him, but he liked to be the one deciding which risks he was taking and why. He'd help Han if he could, of course--he owed his friend that much--but he wished he'd had a better idea of what he was getting into when he threw in his lot with these people.  
The stormtroopers caught up with them just as they reached the other entrance to the Landing Platform. He, Leia, and Chewie fired at them, laying cover while the two droids bickered and Artoo struggled to raise the bulkhead. Finally, he got it open, and they backed through, still firing on the Imperials until the little astromech laid down a smokescreen to give them time to get to the ship.

He and Leia hugged the hull, firing on the advancing white-armored battalion while Chewie and the droids ran for the ramp. Once they were inside, he ducked out of cover position and yelled toward Leia.

"Leia! Go!"

She glanced toward him, then shouldered her rifle and ran. He kept up his spray of cover fire, picking off troopers where he could, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before they were overrun. It seemed to take forever before Chewie got the engine's started, but finally the familiar whine began to vibrate through him. Breathing a little easier despite the continuing barrage of blaster fire from the stormtroopers, he cut and run, making a break for the ramp.

It came up almost before he had cleared it, and by the time he reached the cockpit, Leia and Chewie were at the controls. Lando watched over their shoulders as the _Falcon_ lifted off, feeling an odd sense of disconnection from the events around him. He thought that he should feel perfectly at home here. After all, the _Falcon_ had been his ship--in fact, his _favorite_ ship--before it was Han's. It wasn't his anymore, though, and the heavy emotions in the cockpit weighed on him, making it clear to him even without any overt sign from Leia or Chewie that he was the outsider here.

Not that he could really blame them. He would have felt the same in their position, and he wouldn't be surprised if they booted him off the ship as soon as they reached a safe port. If there was a safe port to be found.

_Maybe it would be better if they did,_ he thought as Chewie barked that they were being pursued. He checked the scope and confirmed a squadron of TIE fighters on their tail. Chewie banked the ship into a roll, and she responded just as beautifully as Lando expected.

"Climb higher," he advised. "Use the clouds for cover. Our best bet is to get out of here without trying to engage them. She should be able to outrun them."

_And then what?_ He asked himself, giving his head a mystified shake. He wanted to help Han, but most of his current resources were wrapped up in the Tibanna gas mining operation. He certainly didn't want to have to face any more of these Kenobis and have to explain his role in what had happened to Han. He could promise them--sincerely--that he would do everything he could to make amends for that mistake, but he doubted it would do any good. People this intensely loyal to one another were likely to hold long grudges when it came to people who threatened their own--especially if those people were also supposed to be trusted friends.

Well. Okay. Not trusted. But still.


	178. Fear Is the Mindkiller

Panting heavily, Luke turned away from the platform's edge and thumbed off his lightsaber. Moving as quickly as he could while still trying to catch his breath, he hurried back to his brother and knelt, laying his right hand on Ani's shoulder. As soon as they touched, he could feel the flow of the Force being redirected toward healing the puncture wound. It took a second before Ani opened his eyes, and when he did, he winced in pain, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"How bad is it?" Luke asked.

"I don't think he hit anything vital. It just hurts. A lot," Ani said, grimacing. Slowly sitting up, he remarked. "For some reason, this feels worse than--last time. I can't focus very well."

Luke let out a breath and nodded. "All right. Just--stay here. You're not going to be much use in a fight and he's still down there somewhere."

"No," Ani shook his head, fighting his way to his feet. "We stay together."

Sighing, Luke took Ani's arm and helped him the rest of the way up. "Ani, you're being paranoid."

"No, I'm not. Trust me. Splitting us up is exactly what he wants. Remember your vision on Hoth," Ani said.

"That was Palpatine," Luke said.

"It was the Dark Side. The present changes the future. Events are always in motion. We have to do this together," Ani insisted.

"All right," Luke shook his head dubiously. "You know what you're talking about when it comes to visions. Are you gonna be okay to fight?"

"Yes, if we're careful," nodded Ani. "C'mon."

"Ani, what was he talking about?" Luke asked as they walked back to the edge.

"I have no idea. I promise you, I have no secrets from you. I think he was trying to distract us, that's all. Just don't listen to anything he tells you," Ani replied.

"Okay," Luke said uncertainly. Everything Vader had said to him made him distinctly uneasy. He'd implied that there was something else his family had kept from him, and while he knew that a Sith Lord was not exactly the most sought-after source for reliable information, Ani and their parents had all kept the secret of Vader's identity hidden for years. Jedi made something of an art out of concealing information that they felt would be harmful without actually saying anything that wasn't true. In the back of his mind, he'd often wondered whether there was anything else he didn't know.

He didn't want to believe there was, but why shouldn't there be? The Clone Wars had been a tremendously difficult time for his parents, and Anakin's betrayal at the end had to come as a bitter blow, especially to Obi Wan, who had by all accounts, loved Skywalker as both a son and a brother. He'd never really heard all the details involved in that betrayal; he hadn't known about it at all until Mustafar. All he'd heard for most of his life was "Anakin Skywalker, hero of the Republic." Had they really kept the secret for so long out of a sentimental desire for him and Leia to think well of the man who had caused them so much pain? Why should Obi Wan want to keep Luke from Vader more than anyone else? What was it he'd said on the Death Star?

_Your destiny lies along a different path from mine._

He shuddered.

"Luke," Ani's voice drew him out of his thoughts, and he realized that he was staring into the darkness beyond the carbon freezing platform.

He looked up, startled.

"Trust me," Ani said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Nodding, he stepped off the edge of the freezing platform, dropping down into a dark passageway that led to a closed circular grille. It opened into a long tunnel lined with small lighting panels, just barely wide enough for them to walk shoulder-to-shoulder. Inside they dropped down into an unlit room that, after a few moments of exploration, he pinpointed as part of the city's processing vane.

The Force tugged at him, and he turned to see Vader approaching, a blacker shape in the darkness, like a living shadow in appearance but with deadly substance that became chillingly apparent as he moved closer and the hiss of his breather grew loud and threatening. Both brothers ignited their lightsabers. Vader, still coming slowly but inexorably toward them, did the same.

The squeal and crash of metal being ripped from a brace behind him sent him spinning around just in time to slice a large hunk of debris in two. It was too dark for him to see exactly what Vader was hurling at him, but more of the same flew toward him from the left, forcing him into a second spin. He nearly lost his footing that time, and by the time he recovered, Ani had engaged Vader. He was so focused on their lightsaber exchanges that most of the machinery and tools that Vader was Force throwing was hitting its mark. Luke rushed to help and felt something slam into the back of his skull. He staggered, and by the time he recovered, his brother was flying through the room like a piece of Vader's junk. He struck the wall hard, and a piece of piping ripped free above him, landing on the crown of his head.

Then, suddenly something smashed into the huge, round observation port behind Luke with enough force to shatter it. Desperately, he grabbed for a handhold, against the gale that threatened to suck him out into the air shaft. His lungs burned as his last breath was forced out of him, and in seconds, his clutching fingers became so numb that his grip slid loose.

He flew straight over the catwalk outside and barely managed to clutch the edge of it with the fingertips of his left hand. Panting, he eased his right arm down to hook his lightsaber to his belt, then grasped the icy metal with both hands and pulled himself up onto the scaffolding. He lay there, stunned, head hanging over the side for several seconds, unable to do more than simply breathe. Then, he pulled himself up and moved cautiously back inside the control room.

He could sense Vader nearby but couldn't see or hear anything. He scanned the hallway, moving deeper inside, sure that Vader must be--on top of him! He leapt away, grabbing for the lightsaber at his belt and managing to ignite it before Vader's red blade sliced him in half.

_Stupid, stupid!_ he berated himself, desperately fending off the Dark Lord's heavy blows as Vader forced him back, step by step, relentless in his onslaught, until they were out on the catwalk again. Luke struggled for composure, trying frantically to mount some kind of intelligent defense, but he was fighting by instinct alone now, hands and eyes and lightsaber working in the kind of desperate accord that comes of a real battle for survival. Still Vader forced him back--back until there was nowhere left to go, back until he found himself on the ground, staring at the menacing point of the Sith's red blade.

"You are beaten. It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed as Obi Wan would."

The mention of his father's name sent a surge of energy through Luke. He battered Vader's blade away, leaping to his feet. Obi Wan wouldn't have let himself be _destroyed._ He wouldn't have let himself get into this position in the first place--not when his partner was lying unconscious inside and he was the only one left to stop a Sith Lord. Now everything depended on Luke, and he wouldn't let his father and Ani down again the way he had on the Death Star.

Drawing heavily on the Force, he fought Vader off, eventually landing a vicious thrust against the Sith Lord's shoulder. The black armor sparked and smoked. Luke ducked away, sliding around the instrument panel at the end of the maintenance walkway, but Vader pursued, his power seeming undiminished by the injury to his arm.

_What's it take to slow him down?!_ Luke thought, fear closing around his heart. Vader's lightsaber rounded into the control panel and he extended his arm to meet the red blade again. As he did, it came down across his right forearm, slicing off his hand at the wrist.

He screamed in horror and agony as blinding pain shot upward through his arm. His knees buckled, and he found himself at Vader's feet, staring up into the black mask. He clung to the end of the gantry with his remaining hand, rocked by the wind as he knelt on a frigid metal arm barely wide enough to hold him.

"There is no escape. Don't make me destroy you," Vader said.

_It's over,_ Luke realized. _It's all over. There's nowhere else to go._

He edged himself backward, leaning on his left hand and using it to push himself along. At the extreme end of the gantry, he swung around, balancing precariously on its framework. Vader stood at the other end, still talking, trying to coax him back.

"You do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to discover you power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy," he encouraged, suddenly sounding immensely, incredibly reasonable, even rational, after having attacked and maimed him.

_So that's it,_ he thought. _That's what this was all about._

Pain hazed his thoughts, and Vader's words extended a cool darkness toward him, offering surcease. There was no other way out of this, and if he didn't survive, Vader would take Ani. The kids would lose their father. Isaly would be left to raise them without her husband--or worse, with the knowledge that Ani had fallen to the Dark Side. Ani was the fully trained one, the first of the New Jedi Knights. He was the one who stood the real chance of ending this war the _right_ way, but maybe--just maybe--Luke could help. He could buy his brother a chance, a way to escape again, and figure out a way to defeat the Sith at their own game.

He stared across at Vader, clinging to the gantry arm with his remaining hand. Anakin Skywalker had done something very like that, hadn't he? Everybody _said_ he was still in there somewhere--and he had to be, even if he'd just hacked off Luke's hand, which was now one solid mass of fire that extended up the arm, into his shoulder, and even back down into his chest muscles. He'd saved Shmi's life on Mustafar. Couldn't Luke do the same thing?

The image of Padme's face flashed through his mind, followed by Leia, then his father. He grasped at them mentally, digging his consciousness into them the way his fingers could only wish to dig into the icy durasteel he was holding. Obi Wan had refused to surrender to Count Dooku before the battle of Geonosis. How many times could Leia have betrayed the rebellion? She hadn't, even when she might have been able to save Alderaan. Their mother could have capitulated to the demands of the Trade Federation back during the Blockade Crisis but she hadn't either. What would all that mean if he chose Vader's way now?

"I'll never join you!" he flung at Vader.

"If only you knew the power of the Dark Side--"

"I know enough! I can see what it's done to you--what you've done to my family. You almost killed my _father!"_

"No. I _am_ your father."

The words slammed into him, battering his mind like the flotsam that Vader had hurled at him inside. He screamed, fighting the urge to claw at his head with a single, barely coherent denial.

_"NO!"_

"Obi Wan left me to burn on Mustafar after I spared the life of his son."

Luke shook his head violently. "That's not true! That's impossible!"

"He stole what should have been mine."

"No, no! You're lying!"

"Luke. You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this! It is your destiny. Join me, and we can rule the galaxy as father and son. Come with me. It's the only way," Vader said, holding out his hand.

Luke looked down into the endless, dark drop of the reactor shaft, knowing that the Sith Lord was right. It was the only way. The only way except one. He lifted his face again, stared at the hand and then the mask that hid whatever remained of Vader's humanity, and made the only choice he could. He let go.


	179. When Hope Seems Lost

Vader found Ani still unconscious in the processing vane. This was mildly distressing to the Dark Lord in view of the fact that the Knight had been struck rather violently in the head. Heaving a sigh, he knelt beside the still form on the floor, checked for a pulse and then brushed the unkempt hair away from the youth's forehead, stared at him for a long, silent, moment, and examined his head for swelling. Finding none, he shook his head, rose, and collected the Jedi's weapons. Once that was accomplished, he returned to Ani and hefted the youth's dead weight over his shoulder.

"This was much less difficult when you were four," he complained. The necessity of lugging the unconscious Jedi made his balance more precarious than normal, compelling him to draw heavily on the Force. As he walked, he recalled bitterly how easy it had been to sling this same boy over his shoulder once, how natural his movement had been. Now it would be a relief to put him down.

Oddly, he discovered that he felt none of the satisfaction he had expected with even a partial success of his plan. Even if the younger brother had proven to be less susceptible to manipulation than he had counted on, he sensed that the boy wasn't dead yet. There might be a chance to recover him, and if not there was Ani and the unexpected windfall of little Shmi who were now both in his possession. They were the most important, and now he should not only be able to keep them both safely beyond his Master's reach but Ani could be induced to remain at his side where he belonged.

As he traversed an empty corridor, he mused over the girl. Their encounter in the dining room had not been part of his original plan, but when the opportunity had presented itself to influence her, it had seemed prudent to press the advantage. It had certainly been an interesting exchange, to say the least, and her unexpected little bargain proposal had been delightfully unexpected. Of course, the fact that she was lying to him was not. He was surprised by the intensity of his own anger at that very predictable ruse. Why should it upset him so much that the child attempted to betray him? She was, after all, incapable of confronting him directly. It made sense that she would try to protect Solo, and he was, in fact, acting as a mentor to her, she would have already learned the valuable art of dissembling and subterfuge. Everything he'd said to her had essentially been untrue in any case.

Initially, he'd had no intention of making her a Sith apprentice any more than he had actually planned to teach Ani the ways of the Dark Side at the end of the Clone Wars. In both cases, his goal had been simply to keep the children safe from Palpatine. They were Padme's blood, after all. They should have been his. Ani _would_ have been--they all would have, but even if the twins had died when she gave birth to them, as long as she and Ani remained, he would have been satisfied. Then Shmi would have been his, too, without contest. Now, he sought only to right the wrongs that had been done to him.

The necessity of turning Ani to the Dark Side had only become apparent to him later, after he understood what had happened to the Kenobis after the Clone Wars. He had shown himself to have a great deal of potential on the Death Star, and that potential could still be molded. Together, they could overthrow the Emperor and shape the galaxy as they wished. Real order could be established and enforced, and they would be hailed as the heroes who ended Papatine's despotic reign. Unless Ani could be made to accept the superiority of Sith teachings over the Jedi ways that his father had taught him, none of that could happen. The boy would never understand where his true power lay or even grasp how _much_ power he really possessed--or could possess--as long as Jedi teachings remained at the core of his worldview. He could never be made to remain at Vader's side, to rule with him, unless he could be made to embrace the power of the Dark Side.

It was regrettable that in order to do that, Luke would have to be sacrificed. Vader did not approve of needless waste, especially when it came to potentially powerful Dark Side acolytes. Especially after what he had seen today, he could find no viable alternative. The bond of brotherhood that existed between these two must be broken--more than broken. It must be shattered so completely that not even a trace of it remained to thwart Vader's objectives later. To do that, both boys would have to be turned to the Dark Side so that Vader could use his influence drive a wedge between them.

There was already an obvious avenue with which he could manipulate Ani. The boy's own loyalty to Anakin Skywalker gave it to him. He had needed to create one with Luke, and causing the younger Kenobi brother to question his own lineage had seemed both reasonable and effective. The lie was only a lie of degree, much as the deceptions that Obi Wan and Padme had perpetrated against him had been. He had _intended_ to raise Padme's children as his own, to protect them from the Emperor and make them the heirs to his galactic dominion. It was only her betrayal that had kept this from happening, and as such, that betrayal was responsible for keeping Luke from his true destiny.

Palpatine had foreseen Luke's involvement in his own death, which led Vader to believe that he could be safely used to accomplish that much. Once the Emperor was no longer a problem, however, one of the brothers would have to be disposed of. With both of them converted to the ways of the Sith, it would only be a matter of time before the hatred that Vader would be forced to foster between them led to an explosive conflict. Both of them could not be lost, and having faced them in combat, he was confident that Ani would emerge victorious when the time came. Luke had the greater raw potential in the Force, but Ani exerted a far more fine control of his abilities, and his command of a self-taught lightsaber discipline spoke well for his future as a warrior. This pleased Vader greatly since Ani's well-being had always been of paramount importance to him.

Leia could most likely be saved, if her anger over the death of her twin could be harnessed and used. This also pleased the Dark Lord, since he had developed a rather admiring view of the formidable Princess of Alderaan even before he knew of her real identity. Shmi was young enough that she could be shaped in whatever way that Vader wished, and her ability to use variants of the Jedi mind trick at this stage of her rather inadequate training had already made him re-evaluate his decision to leave her to Ani. His sons' futures could be decided later, and Vader was certain to allow him at least partial control over their training. The girl he intended to teach himself, and if she proved to be as worthy as he believed she would, she would one day inherit the galaxy and the rulership of his new Sith Dynasty.

He was still musing over these things when he made his way back into the carbon freezing chamber. With a grunt of effort, he heaved Ani back to the floor and looked around for Luke's lightsaber. Leia's was of no particular concern to him, but the one that Luke had carried was another matter entirely. It couldn't be left for anyone else to find and use against him. Spotting it on the floor, he raised his hand, and called it to him, then inspected the hilt for damage and thumbed it on.

Propped against a wall nearby, Ani grunted and stirred as the blue blade hissed to life. Vader looked up at him, keeping the lightsaber lit horizontally across his chest. The Knight stared dumbly at him, his thoughts nothing but a fog of confusion, and slowly shook his head.

"Did I miss something?"

Stepping closer, Vader said menacingly, "Be silent! You will miss a great deal more if you do not cooperate."

Ani tilted his head back, apparently trying to process that statement. Then he pressed both palms against the wall behind him and struggled to his feet. He raised a finger, swaying on his feet. "Uncle…where is…my…"

The question went unfinished as Ani slumped to the ground again, this time landing on his face. Vader shook his head, sighed in exasperation, and hooked Skywalker's lightsaber to his belt. Then he prodded Ani over with the toe of his boot and bent to pick him up again, this time with his arms behind the boy's knees and around his shoulders.

"Wonderful," he commented, tromping into the hall. "Another Kenobi who never shuts up."

Outside, he found a cluster of stormtroopers surrounding not only Shmi but the Ecaruan boy, Jareth, and Isaly. At the sight of him, all three of them surged forward, struggling to get past the troopers, who grabbed all of them and held fast. The hallway was full of smoke, and he could hear running feet in adjacent corridors. The stormtrooper commander--the same one, in fact, who had brought Shmi to him earlier--stepped away from his men and attempted to explain. Vader sighed inwardly and waved him to silence, having already surmised what must have happened. He should have known that these blasted Kenobis would have to make things difficult.

"Hold them here," he ordered, moving briskly down the passageway. "I will return for them once I have the others. Alert my Star Destroyer to prepare for my arrival."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

"I am holding you personally responsible for their safe delivery upon my return, Commander," he added.

"Yes, my Lord," the man replied, and Vader noted with a touch of admiration how well he controlled his fear as he understood what such a responsibility would mean if the Kenobis happened to escape again.

"What did you do to my husband?!" Isaly screamed after him.

"He has a hard head. He will recover."

* * *

_Leia! Hear me! Leia!_

"Luke!" Leia surged forward in her chair, suddenly hot and cold at once. "We have to go back!"

Chewie growled a question at her.

"I know where Luke _is!_" she exclaimed urgently. She had felt for some time that he was in great pain, both physical and emotional, but until now she hadn't been able to tell _where_ he was. As such, her only option had been to continue their bid for escape.

Now, as he called to her, she could not only feel his desperate pain and weariness but grasp enough of the jumbled images that flashed through her mind to intuit his actual location. The knowledge of it chilled her, as did the certainty that he was slipping from consciousness. She closed her eyes, reaching for calm.

_Hang on! Luke, we're coming, just hold on a little longer!_

"But what about those fighters?!" protested Lando.

She ignored him, turning to Chewie, who knew enough from his long experience with the Jedi to trust her. "Chewie, just do it! At the bottom of the city, go!"

"But what about Vader!" Lando cried.

Chewie lunged at him, growling viciously, and he jerked back.

"All right, all right, all right!"

The _Falcon_ angled upward, swooping gracefully over the thick clouds and back toward the city. Leia sank into the Force, stretching out toward her twin. His presence was weakening as he slid toward unconsciousness, but she wove herself through him, using and strengthening the enduring bond that had kept them together even while she was on Alderaan, unaware even that she had a twin. As she opened herself she drew on the Force, channeling the energy back to him, and she felt his presence curl around her as naturally as they might once have been curled together in the womb.

Images and emotion burst through her mind--raw suffering of a kind she had never felt in her life. She pushed through it, holding to him and carefully maintaining her own focus. Later they could sort through all that; now they had to keep him conscious enough not to fall.

"Look, someone's up there!" Lando said, pointing to the weathervane that hung under the city.

"It's Luke," Leia said, her heart hammering despite her effort to remain calm. She gestured nervously as she directed Chewie and Lando. "Chewie, slow down. Slow down, and we'll get under him. Lando, open the top hatch."

Lando raced to obey, and Chewie eased the Falcon under her brother. Seconds crawled by as sweat trickled down Leia's back. The TIE fighters were closing in on their position, but she ignored them.

"Okay. Easy Chewie," she said, amazed at the calmness of her own voice. After an interminable moment, she felt Luke drop off the weathervane and sail downward, drew in a breath and asked, "Lando?"

"Okay, let's go." his voice came back to her.

Shaking, she swiveled the pilot's chair and rose, heedless of the buffeting that the ship was taking from the Imperial fighters. She raced into the hold, grabbing for Luke as Lando guided him toward the cockpit entrance. He fell into her arms, and she barely registered Lando's body sliding past her back.

"Leia," he whispered, clinging to her.

"I'm here," she promised.

He nodded and buried his face against her shoulder, murmuring weakly, "Thanks for the rescue."

"Always," she said as tears slid down her cheeks.


	180. Where Hope Remains

Obi Wan, Padme, Bail, and the boys were all waiting when the Falcon finally docked with the Fleet. The twins were still dazed and almost shell-shocked over what had happened to Luke and Ani on Bespin. They roused somewhat as the hatch opened, and they ran for Chewie, who came out of the docking tube first. The huge Wookiee swept the pair protectively into his arms, stepping to one side to let the twins onto the deck after him. Padme and Obi Wan both gripped his arm in welcome as Leia led her brother to them, then Luke quite literally slammed himself, sobbing, into Obi Wan's embrace.

"What happened?" Padme asked Leia as she and Bail pulled her into a fierce joint hug. They'd received a message from her while the Falcon was en route explaining about Han and telling them that Vader probably had Ani, Isaly, and the kids on the Executor, but Padme still didn't know exactly what had happened to Luke. All that Obi-Too and Junior could tell them was that both of their sons were hurting.

"Vader--Vader told him--" she began shakily, then broke off with an uneasy glance at her father and brother. "I think we'd better wait until we're in private."

Padme nodded slowly. She was already able to pick up some of Luke's feelings through the Force, and from her husband's reaction, she could guess what Vader had told their son. She pressed her lips together grimly, hugged Leia tightly again, and then moved to help Obi Wan. As she did so, she caught sight of a stranger hovering just inside the open tube, his hand lightly touching the top of it.

"Leia, who's this?" she asked.

Keeping one arm around Bail, Leia turned, following Padme's gaze. She made a beckoning gesture with her head, and the newcomer made his way out. She couldn't read him very well in the Force, but his manner made it clear to her that he was decidedly uneasy about his presence here.

"Mom, this is Lando Calrissian," Leia said by way of introduction. "He's…going to help us get Han back."

Padme flicked a glance at her daughter, immediately knowing that there was a great deal more she needed to hear about this Lando, but perhaps that, too, was the kind of information best left until they were alone. She extended a hand toward him in welcome, and smiled warmly.

"Welcome. I'm Padme Kenobi."

Suddenly, Lando's unease seemed to melt away, and he took her hand, bringing it smoothly to his lips, "A true pleasure to meet you, Senator."

Leia rolled her eyes.

Keeping her expression politely neutral, Padme slid away, glancing meaningfully toward her husband and son. "If you'll excuse me."

* * *

"Luke, search your feelings," Obi Wan urged. "The truth is already there."

He perched on the edge of his son's bed, waiting while a med droid carefully removed the bacta patch on his arm and begin prepping for the cybernetic replacement. He kept his eyes firmly on his son's face, not allowing his thoughts to wander toward the prosthesis, the particular hand it was replacing, or who had caused the damage. Luke looked back at him for a few heartbeats, then dropped his gaze and rubbed his eyes tiredly with the fingertips of his left hand.

"Why would he say something like that?" he asked.

Obi Wan drew in a considering breath. "I suppose it's possible he believes it. He was…quite delusional on Mustafar the first time. He was convinced that your mother and I had betrayed the Republic, that the Jedi Order itself was plotting to take over the Senate. If he doesn't believe it, then he's trying to turn you against me."

"I don't know which is worse," Luke muttered.

"It doesn't really matter," Obi Wan said quietly. "The result would be the same if you chose to believe him."

Luke nodded and didn't reply.

"Do you believe him?" Obi Wan asked reluctantly.

Slowly, Luke shook his head. His father expelled a long, relieved breath and leaned forward to grip his shoulder, waiting. Gradually, he looked up again, but his eyes were still dark and turbulent.

"Then what is it?" Obi Wan pressed. "Something is still troubling you."

"You mean besides the fact that I let Ani down again? And now he and Isaly and the kids are all prisoners?" Luke sighed heavily.

"You did not fail your brother," Obi Wan said firmly. "You did everything you could. You did your best."

"That's not good enough," Luke shook his head.

"Yes it is," Obi Wan told him, hardening his voice just enough to make it clear that he would brook no further argument. "It has to be. Now, we are going to get them back. All of us. You must be patient."

Luke opened his mouth to say something else, but abruptly cut himself off and snapped his mouth closed. He forced another nod. "Yes, sir."

"So, what is it?" asked Obi Wan again.

Luke didn't answer for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was bleak, barely more than a hoarse whisper, "Dad, why did you say what you did on the Death Star--that my destiny lies along a different path from yours?"

"Because it's the truth, son. Each of have our own destiny, our own path to follow. There a points at which those paths converge, but we all still must make our own choices, not blindly follow after others, no matter how much we love or admire them. Having a destiny separate from mine does not mean that you have to choose Vader's way. You must find your own way, Luke," he said. "None of us can choose it for you. Not me, or your brother, or Vader, or anyone else."

"All right," Luke sighed, clearly not reassured.

Obi Wan studied him for a while, unsure if anything he had to say could really help matters. It was obvious to him that his son wanted some kind of assurance that he was not destined to be the next galactic menace, but as much as he might want to dismiss such a notion entirely, he knew better than to think he could. Still, he didn't believe such a thing of Luke--he couldn't.

"Have I ever told you why I gave Anakin's lightsaber to you and not your brother?" he asked at length.

"I guess because Ani already had Qui-Gon's," Luke shrugged.

"No," Obi Wan shook his head.

"Okay, then I don't know," Luke said.

"Son, after the end of the Clone Wars, I honestly felt as if part of me had died on Mustafar. That was probably why it became easier for me to say that Anakin died there than to acknowledge that anything of him still remained within Darth Vader. In the months that followed, I spent every day living with the knowledge that I might soon lose your mother, and Yoda wanted to take Ani with him into hiding on Dagobah. It was…an indescribably dark time of my life, and I was very much convinced that it was only going to get worse. The first light I saw--the first hope I felt through all of that--was when I held you in my arms for the first time. That's what I have always seen when I look at you."

* * *

"Then he said _'I know'_ and--" Leia broke off as tears began to stream down her cheeks. Padme slipped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and pulled her close, cradling Leia's head against her chest. For a while, they didn't speak. She let Leia cry herself out, then pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, wiped the bereft young woman's tears, and gently kissed her forehead.

Slipping the handkerchief into her trembling hands, she pushed herself off the couch and went into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a glass of cold water. Leia accepted it, but instead of drinking anything, she watched her mother sink onto the cushion beside her again, then turned and stared into the water.

"Drink," Padme urged.

Leia sighed and sipped at the water. "Mom, I feel horrible. There were still so many things I never actually said to Han. And then Little One, and leaving Isaly on top of it all!"

"You're probably going to feel that way for a good long while, even after we get them back," Padme replied.

Leia went back to staring at the water. Padme waited calmly, not rushing her. Everything that she could say felt inadequate in any case. None of her training or talent for delivering persuasive speeches seemed to stand up against the pervading pain that both of her twins were suffering now. She hoped that Obi Wan was having better luck with Luke than she felt she was having here with Leia. In the back of her mind, too, there was an ever-present concern for Ani's boys, but she knew that she couldn't focus on that now. Bail was with them, for which she was endlessly grateful, but right now her daughter needed her even more than they did.

"Aren't you supposed to tell me I shouldn't feel that way? Or I don't have to or something?" Leia asked finally.

"Would it do any good if I did?" asked her mother.

"No, I guess not," admitted Leia. "But that doesn't make me feel any better."

"Sweetheart, I _am_ sorry that all this has happened. I'm afraid too. And I'm sorry that you're suffering so much because of Vader again. I remember how helpless and awful I felt when your father was captured or hurt during the Clone Wars. There were rumors toward the end that he and…that he'd been killed," Padme said carefully. "But Isaly was right. You had to go. You had to get back and tell us what happened."

"But now they're all prisoners! The _kids!_"

"If you hadn't gone when you did, Leia, your brother would be dead," Padme reminded her. "Ani is a Jedi Knight. He's not helpless, and neither is Isaly. The Force is with them."

"I know," Leia nodded slowly. "It's just that…sometimes that really doesn't seem like enough."

"I know," Padme agreed with a sad smile.

"So what do you do then?" Leia asked.

"You keep trusting. The Force and each other. That's what it means to be a family, sweetheart," Padme told her.

"Still doesn't seem like enough," Leia said, resting her head on Padme's shoulder.

Her mother only sighed and kissed her hair. She held her for another few minutes, then drew in a breath and said briskly. "Come on. Let's go see your brother. You can sit with him while Dad and I go have a little chat with Lando before he and Chewie leave." 

* * *

Lando and Chewie were just about to bring the final load of supplies on board the Falcon when Obi Wan and Padme arrived. Both of them hugged and thanked the Wookiee, exchanging last minute advice and parting words, most of which made Lando cringe inwardly. He was still painfully aware of how much the current situation was his fault, and he'd been hoping that he'd been able to beat a quick retreat back to the Falcon before he had to have any kind of extended conversation with Leia's parents. He was sure that she would have told them the whole story by now, and that knowledge only increased the uncomfortable feeling of being an outsider in this group. When they looked at him, he had the distinct impression that he was being allowed here on strictly probationary terms.

They looked him up and down slowly, seeming to consider for an excruciatingly long time before either one of them spoke. Internally, Lando squirmed under the scrutiny, but he gave no outward appearance of discomfort, holding his posture relaxed and firmly keeping his most charming smile on his face. Padme looked at Obi Wan. He tilted his head at Lando and then shrugged, unimpressed. Lando resisted the urge to sigh.

Turning toward Chewie, Padme asked, "Do you trust him, Chewie?"

Lando held his breath, fully expecting a negative answer. To his amazement, however, the Wookiee stared at him for a while, then shrugged much the way that Obi Wan had and gave a short nod.

"Mostly," he said.

"Then that's good enough for us," Padme replied. Looking to Lando, she added, "Bring our boy home, Lando."

"That I promise you, Senator Kenobi," he replied with a deep bow.

"May the Force be with you, Calrissian. Chewbacca," Obi Wan added with a nod to both of them.

"Luke, we're ready for take off," Lando's tinny voice crackled over Luke's comlink.

"Good luck, Lando," he responded.

"When we find Jabba the Hutt and that bounty hunter we'll let you know," Lando promised.

"As long as the rest of the family is safe, my brother and I will meet you at the rendezvous point on Tatooine."

"Princess, we'll find Han. I promise you," Lando said.

Leia, who had been standing beside him lost in her own thoughts since their parents left, looked up at the sound of the title. Strange how, even in the midst of her own sorrow, she would respond to the word, Luke mused. He found that he could smile a little, even though concern for his brother's family still weighed heavily on him.

"Chewie, I'll be waiting for your signal," he said. "Take care, you two. And may the Force be with you."

A long, throaty wail of acknowledgement came over the comlink, bringing a genuine smile to Leia's face. Luke's smile widened, then he frowned as Leia drifted away from his bedside to stand in front of the observation window that the _Falcon_ was about to pass by when she detached. He looked questioningly back up at the med droid, which went about its business with no apparent concern, pricking his fingers and the center of his palm.

"Ow!" he muttered.

Once he was pronounced fully functional, he slid off the bed and walked over to his sister, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him and looked up, smiling in silent reassurance. Their parents, Bail, and the twins filtered into the room behind them, all watching as the Falcon soared off into space. No one spoke as it grew smaller and finally disappeared, but in the feelings around him, Luke sensed the same accord that he and his brother had made on Dagobah.

_Whatever comes from here on in, we fight together._

* * *

** Note:** About 1/3 of the stuff that comes next (Ani on the Executor) has been written. It's not in order, and it won't be posted until the entire sequence is complete. I don't know exactly when that will be, sorry folks.


	181. The Long Road Begins

So, I lied. Most of the Executor/Cloud City rescue stuff is still out of order, but I've decided to post a few chapters. Please bear with me as I'm having a very difficult time writing due to RL issues and health stuff right now. Most of my attention and energy is therefore focused on my original work at the moment.

Also, I finally got the DVDs I need to do adaquate research for a fic project called _Guardians of Grayskull_ which has been in the back of my head for more than ten years. --Yes, before I had any notion of the shows being released to DVD. So, I will be off making notes and re-acquainting myself with the people of Eternia and Etheria.

Updates to my SW AUs will be made, but not as frequently as One Path readers have been spoiled into come to expect. ;)

* * *

The Cloud City's security tower was a circular structure with long, smooth white halls that spiraled upward around wide central control rooms located on each floor. Isaly tried to keep track of how many they passed as the stormtroopers marched her and the children to an empty cell block, but each one was identical to the one before it, with faceless, white-clad stormtroopers and impassive Cloud City security who seemed to present an insurmountable obstacle to freedom. Discouraged and confused by the ever-winding passageways, all honeycombed with evenly placed doorways that led down more featureless corridors, she became unsure of her count.

Finally, the procession halted, and the lead trooper stepped toward one of the cells, pressed a button to open the door, and gestured them inside. Shmi and Jareth looked at her questioningly, and she nodded, moving toward it without argument. As she slipped through the open doorway, another trooper spoke, and she froze, stomach clenching in a tight knot of dread.

"We should separate them, Commander."

"No!" Isaly spun around in defiance, but even her anger felt ineffectual since the armored bodies were so similar in appearance that she found it difficult to be sure who had spoken. The commander, who was directly behind her, turned as well, and directed his attention on one of his subordinates.

"These prisoners are children. I'm not going to throw them into a cell without their mother," he said.

"Yes, sir," the other said impassively. The helmets distorted their voices so much that they even sounded the same to Isaly. She wondered how the man had been able to pinpoint which of his fellows had spoken. Before she could make any further observations, though, he spun again, angrily gesturing the group into the cell.

Shmi and Jareth filtered past her, hurrying to obey. Isaly followed them inside and waited for the door to close. As it did, her heart sank. In contrast to the halls outside, the room was very dark. The walls were black, and a circular vent in the roof was covered with a heavy, bolted grate that let in an eerie pattern of filtered light. Two small overhead lights added a bit more illumination, but they flickered off and on as power fluctuated through the city.

Isaly waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom and then began to search the cell for possible avenues of escape. The kids slipped back past her and began to examine the controls on the door. She paused, turning to watch them for a few seconds, and she felt a twinge of regret at how quickly and naturally both of them began looking for a way out. After all that had happened, they should have been crying or even curled up in a corner in shock. The worst part was knowing that they weren't unique. Some of the healers she had worked with in the Rebel Fleet had told her stories about similar children, forced to grow up far too quickly on war torn worlds. She shook her head, realizing that there was no time for useless sorrows now.

Testing the grate with a hard shake, she gritted her teeth and told them, "This is bolted tight. I don't think we're going to get out this way."

"Can you jimmy this without Artoo?" Jareth asked Shmi, indicating the door's control mechanism.

"Probably, but it'll take a while, and if there are a lot of guards, I don't think I can mind trick them all." she replied.

"How do you do that anyway?" asked Jareth.

"Do what?"

"The mind trick thing."

"You don't know how to do a mind trick?" she asked incredulously.

"No…?"

"Well, you just…" she trailed off, gently waving her hand the way that Isaly had seen her father-in-law do several times. "Do."

"Well, that explains everything!" Jareth sighed and looked up at the ceiling in a show of exasperation.

"Don't you know _anything?"_ Shmi huffed at him. "There's now _how_ with Jedi stuff. You just do it!"

"Now you sound like Yoda," Jareth complained.

"So?"

"He never makes any sense!"

"Maybe you're just dumb."

"I am _not_ dumb!"

_"Kids!"_ Isaly cut in to forestall a fullblown battle of words. Both of them looked at her and seemed to remember the severity of the situation. Jareth ducked his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Me too," agreed Shmi, though with a trace of reluctance. Isaly was tempted to fix a stern look on the girl, but after a heartbeat, she decided that she simply didn't have the energy. She _had_ meant the apology, even if she had been reluctant to offer it. This wasn't the time to be concerned with perfect manners or politeness. Anyone might have fallen to bickering under these circumstances. In fact, she could easily imagine Han, Ani, and Luke all engaged in a three-way argument if they had been locked in a cell together. Han and Leia might literally have gone at each other's throats.

"All right, guys, we need to figure out a way to escape," she said, forcing a brisk quality to her tone which she hoped would re-focus their attention. "And we're going to have to work together to do it."

Shmi glanced uncertainly from her mother to the door and then back again, suggesting, "Maybe if we can get Hardy to come in here alone I could use the mind trick on him."

"Who?" her mother frowned.

"The nice one," she explained. "I heard the other mean one call him that before."

"When before?" Isaly's frown deepened.

"When we first got here, Threepio got lost. I found him, but so did a bunch of stormtroopers. One of them shot him and then wanted to shoot me, but Hardy wouldn't let him. Then they were arguing about what to do with me, so I mind tricked him into bringing me to Uncle…Vader."

"You what?!" Isaly felt herself go cold at the thought of her daughter in Vader's hands. Yes, he had saved Shmi on Mustafar, but that didn't change the reality of his current interest in her children. He wanted to turn them to the Dark Side, twist them into weapons of hatred that he could use against Palpatine, enacting some twisted revenge against Obi Wan and Padme in the process.

"Mommy, there was no other way!" Shmi cried.

"You should have made them let you go and found Han," Isaly sucked in a breath, running her hands through her hair.

"But if I made them let me go, then Vader would have killed them both because they failed him or something," Shmi protested. "I can't make people forget stuff the way Grandpa does."

Her voice quavered, and Isaly's instinctive anger, born of her own thwarted desire to protect her child, drained away. As much as she hated to admit it, Shmi was right. She knew that the memory of the stormtroopers she and Jareth had been forced to kill on Mustafar still troubled her daughter, and she was glad that Shmi had both the presence of mind and the compassion to realize that the humans underneath the white armor would face consequences for whatever she manipulated them into doing.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she said, moving to cup the little girl's face in her hands. "Did Vader hurt you?"

"He took Han!" Shmi's voice broke on the exclamation. She bit her lip, struggling to stifle tears, and Isaly sank to her knees, gathering the girl into her arms.

"It's all right, sweetheart," she promised, hugging her tightly and pressing her cheek into the softness of her hair.

"No, it isn't! Han's gone, and Daddy--and we don't even _know_ where Uncle Luke is!" Shmi said hotly, though she didn't push Isaly away as her mother was half expecting.

"I know," Isaly replied gently.

"How is that okay?!" demanded Shmi, her voice now muffled against Isaly's shoulder as she wept.

"It's not," Isaly affirmed, punctuating the statement with a kiss. "But it's okay for you to cry. And we're going to get out of here. We're going to get Han back. And Uncle Luke is all right."

"How do you know that?" Shmi asked, pulling back to stare at her mother. The words weren't a challenge but a simple inquiry. She wanted to believe that Luke was safe. Her instincts and the youthful faith of a child in its parents told her that whatever Isaly said must be the truth. Her knowledge of Vader and her experiences with him, not to mention the fact that she herself was currently in a strange, dark prison cell, said that there was no way Luke could have escaped from the Dark Lord.

"Aunt Leia would have known if anything had happened to Uncle Luke. She would have told me before we split up," Isaly said truthfully. Of course, something might have happened to Luke after that, but it was unlikely. Vader had crossed paths with her and the kids in the hallway, and he'd had Ani with him. If Luke had been captured or even killed, it stood to reason that Vader would have had him as well.

Several emotions flickered over Shmi's features. Isaly saw hope, fear, frustration, doubt, and in the end, a quietly determined nod. She realized with an inward sigh that her young daughter was probably as aware as she was that Luke could still be in danger and they would have no real way to know. Fortunately, however, the girl also realized that there was nothing she could do to help him while they were trapped in here. Part of her, the frightened little girl, wanted to simply cling to Isaly and cry out her fear for her father and uncle, her grief for the loss of a man who was probably more father to her now than Ani was, and the pain of knowing that the one responsible for all of this was the same man who had saved her life on Mustafar--the man she still wanted to call _Uncle Anakin_. Another part, the future Jedi who had grown up in the midst of a war for independence, the smuggler's apprentice who had learned far too soon about the harsh realities of the galaxy in which they lived, was already pushing tears aside. Hopefully, she would find time for them later. With her mother and grandmother there, at least, she would always have someone to remind her of the importance of the things she didn't have the luxury to feel now.

Still, Isaly felt a surge of anger--though surprisingly, it wasn't directed at Vader--and a heavy loss that was as crushing to her in its own way as the grief her daughter must feel for her master. Shmi wasn't even seven years old. She shouldn't have had to _be_ in this cell in the first place, but now that they all were here, she _should_ have been crying. Any child should! Isaly hated the war--hated what it had already done and would no doubt continue to do to her children despite every effort that was being made to protect them. Her resentment went beyond the Sith or the Empire or even Palpatine, though he lay somewhere close to the heart of it. It was for the war itself; the senseless, endless pain and destruction of lives that, in one way or another, had been going on for generations. She felt the loss of her children's innocence for them as well as for herself, and then she felt it again for Ani.

Like his mother in regard to his own training, he had never been entirely comfortable with the idea of his children, especially Shmi, being trained as Jedi Knights. Padme's reasons had been philosophical as much as practical. She had wanted her son to be part of her life, and the Old Jedi Order's misguided practice of forbidding contact between potential Jedi and their families would have prevented that. Ani's motivations were more protective. The one thing he wanted more than anything else when it came to the kids was to be able to shield them from the kind of traumatic experiences that had shaped his life. He realized that he had been, in some ways, overprotective of Luke, and he often wrestled with that knowledge when he was faced with decisions that affected his children. At his heart, though, all he really wanted was for them to have the chance to be children.

His earliest memories were bittersweet at best. He remembered, vaguely, the feelings of security and protection that he associated with his grandparents' home in Theed. He also recalled more sharply the constant, underlying fear that plagued his mother, and by extension, tormented him even before he became old enough to really understand and believe that Obi Wan and Anakin might not return from the Clone Wars. There had been brief, joyous reunions, moments of thrilling triumph when some news of Kenobi and Skywalker's exploits made its way back from the front lines.

Then there came the devastation of the night the Jedi Temple burned and the wrenching agony of being forced to watch, a captive of his own visions, as the two men he loved more than anything in the galaxy, who were both fathers to him no matter what names they used, utterly destroyed one another. It was no wonder that he felt such a strong need to protect his kids. In fact, Isaly wouldn't have blamed him if he'd grown up to be a completely neurotic, overbearing father. It was a credit to his parents and the Lars that he was well-adjusted enough to recognize the danger of protecting their children too much.

It would hurt him terribly when he realized how much Shmi had suffered here. He didn't talk about it much, but she knew that he already struggled with guilt over the way that the war continued to mar the kids' lives. The last thing he would ever want would be for his daughter to be trying to bear up under the weight of the responsibility she now felt for saving Han, or worse--for her to endure the kind of betrayal and heartbreak he'd suffered at Anakin's hands. Little One didn't have the memories that Ani did of the Clone Wars; she had never been swung up in Anakin Skywalker's arms or allowed to fly a speeder through Coruscanti traffic. Where Ani still often heard his namesake's voice in his memory, the cold, hollow voice of Darth Vader was the only reality that Shmi knew. Yet, as much as she understood that the Sith Lord was her enemy, she had also been saved by someone she called "Uncle Anakin." Now, the same man had robbed her of her master, taken her father captive, and might well have killed an uncle she loved and depended on as much as her father had ever cared for Anakin Skywalker.

Ani would probably blame himself, Isaly realized with an inward sigh. He wasn't blind to what Vader was. He had never denied Anakin's culpability for his crimes. The Dark Lord certainly wouldn't be exempted from responsibility for the pain he caused Shmi now. One way or another, though, she was sure that Ani would manage to feel that he hadn't done enough to safeguard their daughter from the Sith. Isaly ached for him and all the needless turmoil he was sure to feel--compounded by the hurt of whatever transpired between them aboard the _Executor._

She fought down an irrational desire to kick in the cell door and fight her way to the nearest shuttle. The need to be with Ani, to protect _him_ from whatever Vader had planned, was like a constant, slow burn in her chest that fed its way out into her veins and she felt that, unless she found an outlet for it, the sensation would eventually drive her insane. Forcing herself to draw in a slow breath through her nostrils, she focused on her daughter's face.

Finally, Shmi's expression became one of both resignation and determination. She realized that there was nothing she could do to help Luke, but that didn't mean she planned to sit around in a cell waiting for Vader to come and pick them all up. Isaly let out her breath and looked around the room again, considering their options.

"I think we're going to need some help," Jareth said thoughtfully.

"Did you remember to put Yoda in your pocket?" Shmi asked.

"Very funny."

"Well, who else do you think is going to help us?" inquired Shmi.

"Maybe Calrissian's guards?"

"Maybe, but I wouldn't count on it."

"I don't know then. But c'mon. I mean, even if we get out of here, then what do we do? There's stormtroopers all over the place. The ship's going to be guarded. No way we can fight our way through."

"There are alternatives to fighting," Isaly said firmly. _Unfortunately, she still hadn't managed to come up with one._


	182. When You Don't Know What You're After

The first thing that Ani was aware of as he woke was a dull ache in the center of his forehead. He winced unconsciously, and the pain increased, spreading outward into his temples and the back of his skull as the skin tightened. He slowly sat up, blinking to clear his blurred vision. As he started to raise his hand to test the bump on his head, he became aware of the durasteel restraining cuffs that now bound his wrists together. They were tethered to his waist somehow, further restricting his movements, and if escape was an option, he was going to have to get them off. He glanced down at them--or tried to--and his vision swam again. Closing his eyes, he drew in a slow breath to steady himself and reached into the Force, drawing on the ambient energy in the room to bring his foggy mind to focus.

Opening his eyes again, he let himself take in the details of the room, which was stark white with walls that were utterly smooth and seamless. The only furnishings were the bunk that Ani was currently half-reclining on and a small, utilitarian rolling table. The heavy door across from him had had its locking mechanism rather hastily "redesigned" to keep him inside. The interior control box had been opened and gutted, leaving only a few dangling strips of colored wire. At some point, Vader would have to reappear and attempt to interrogate him--or, he hoped, simply _talk_ with him, which meant that there must be guards stationed outside who could open the door for him when he was ready to leave.

Stretching out with his senses, he could immediately detect two human guards directly outside the door. He bit his lip thoughtfully and pushed himself off the bunk, crossing the room to peer more closely at the controls on the door. Once there, he extended himself further into the Force and smiled a little as he sensed the droids. Another moments' concentration had them pinpointed. There were two at either end of the corridor, far enough out that if he hadn't expected them, he might not have found them at all. The ship was full of activity, both human and mechanical, and it would have been easy to miss them--or at least to miss the import of their presence. Ani, however, had become rather good at picking up the Force traces within otherwise inanimate metal since the Death Star, and those four droids were moving in and out of the edges of his detection range in a clearly discernable pattern.

_We had the same Master, Uncle,_ he thought, giving his head an amused shake. _That is not going to work._

He turned, glancing around the room with a casual air that allowed him to take in the locations and angles of the holocams nestled in each corner of the ceiling, the heavily bolted grille which covered the vent shaft on the wall to his left. It was too close to the ceiling to have been of much use to a typical prisoner--although he imagined that any "typical" prisoner would probably have been kept in a holding cell in any case.

That thought was enough to give him a moment's hope. If Vader hadn't simply tossed him in a cell, even a cell designed to hold a Jedi, then it was possible that some of the things Ani had said on Bespin had struck home. He shook his head, though, dispelling any thought of anticipation or conjecture. Vader's intentions were beyond his control. He might well be able to use this capture as a means to reach Anakin Skywalker, but that would require survival. Survival, in turn, meant remaining alert and focused enough to use whatever opportunities the Force presented. The ship had to be heading for Coruscant, which meant that in all likelihood, he would be brought before Palpatine--and he knew that he was not ready to face _that_ trial. Not yet.

A faint tickle touched the left side of his nose, and he sniffed unconsciously, then scrunched up his face in an effort to relieve the itch. It didn't help, of course, and he sighed quietly, walking back over to the bunk. Escape was not his primary objective for now, and there was little else to do at the moment. Passing the time until Vader appeared with meditation would help him remain centered and open to the Force. At the very least, it should allow him to do something about the itchy nose.

Unfortunately, however, he had done little more than settle himself crosslegged on the uncomfortable pallet and close his eyes when the hair on his arms and the back of his neck pricked up. A shudder passed through him, and his stomach clenched with the now-familiar mix of anticipation and dread which always accompanied an imminent encounter with the man whose unmistakable Force signature was nearing the door.

He remained unmoving, hands resting as comfortably as possible in front of him, and used his remaining few seconds alone to fill his lungs and then empty them again, expelling his own hopes and expectations. The door whooshed open, but he kept his eyes closed, letting neither that sound nor the heavy fall of Vader's boots and the rasp of the breather disrupt his Jedi calm.

The door hissed closed behind him and Vader clomped noisily across the metal flooring. When Ani didn't move to rise, he came directly up to the bunk and loomed there, a silent, hulking specter which demanded attention by its sheer, indomitable presence. Ani turned to face him, restraining the urge to wrinkle his nose against the persistent itch, and offered a faint smile.

"Hello, Uncle Anakin."

The Sith Lord raised his arm, pointing a finger at the young Jedi in warning. "That name no longer has any meaning for me."

"It's my name," Ani reminded him with mild but genuine surprise.

"It is not mine," said Vader flatly.

"Well," Ani bit his lip, still fighting to keep his face from scrunching up in response to the nagging itch on his nose, which was becoming harder to ignore with every moment. "I've always been proud to carry it."

Vader accepted that declaration with a fair amount of grace under the circumstances. Rather than respond with some cutting remark meant to further distance himself from Ani and by association from his life as Anakin Skywalker, he simply dropped his arm and looked toward his belt, where the two joined ends of Ani's saberstaff now dangled. He unclipped the weapon and held it up to examine the connection mechanism, then slowly moved his head to study the rest of the hilt.

"The design is impressive," he said at length.

Ani was well aware that his initial reason for picking up the staff had been to mask his own discomfort with the situation. Discussing the construction of a weapon with which they both had reason to be familiar gave him a plausible way to retreat onto more comfortable ground. He had probably already examined Ani's weapons at length, and doing so again now was simply his way of both deflecting a topic he didn't wish to pursue and giving himself a few seconds to still the rising conflict that Ani could already feel within him.

He also meant the compliment. That knowledge shook Ani even more than Vader's emotional discomfort or the constant throb of physical distress that radiated from him in such close proximity. It jarred him more deeply than he would have thought possible. In response, he could only duck his head.

"Thank you," he murmured.

The sound of Vader's breathing filled the air between them. After another short silence, he said pensively, "Obi Wan would not have approved."

"It makes him a bit nervous," admitted Ani, still not looking up. His nose had begun to itch again, more intensely than ever, and with Vader standing there he couldn't make himself focus enough to do anything about it. He wriggled his upper lip furiously, hoping that with his head down, Vader's limited vision wouldn't allow him to see.

"_What_ are you doing?" the Sith Lord snapped.

Ani sighed. Of course. Even if Vader _couldn't_ see what he was doing, Ani's own wish to conceal it would alert him, and his immediate assumption would be that whatever Ani was up to, it was with the intent to escape. The fact that Vader himself couldn't _see_ it would then only irritate him further by forcing him to confront one of the physical limitations imposed upon him by the bodysuit and mask he wore.

Looking up again, the Jedi tilted his head to meet his uncle's gaze--or at least, to hold his own eyes level with the rounded hemispheres under which Vader's eyes were hidden. Vader glared back with growing impatience. Ani gave a helpless shrug.

"Uncle Anakin. Could you please take these things off my hands?" he asked.

"No," came the flat and unequivocal response.

"My nose itches," Ani confessed.

Vader stared at him without reply, his emotions a mix of incredulity, suspicion, and Ani thought, very faintly, amusement. Then he clipped Ani's lightstaff back to his belt and looked toward him again. The perfect impassivity of the monstrous mask would have been chilling if Ani could not sense the human emotions simmering beneath it.

"Look," he attempted. "You can put them back on. I won't resist; I give you my word. It's just really uncomfortable, and unless _you're_ willing to stand here scratching my nose…"

"We have much to discuss," Vader said pointedly.

"It'd be a lot easier if you let me do something about my nose first," sighed Ani.

"Your Jedi training stands you in poor stead if you cannot deal with _that_ without your hands, boy," Vader said, and though his vocal transmitter lacked the range to communicate it, Ani could easily read the sneer behind the statement.

"I'm having trouble maintaining focus at the moment," he replied calmly.

"You will learn," Vader assured him.

Ani bowed his head. "If you say so."

The pressurized cuffs popped open though, giving a soft hiss as they fell away, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He quickly raised a hand to alleviate his discomfort, all the while realizing that he must look ridiculous scrubbing his nose with his hand in front of Darth Vader. Whoever was monitoring the security holos was going to have a rather entertaining shift.

"Thank you, Uncle," he sighed again.

"I told you. Your uncle is dead," Vader growled.

"I know. Maybe if you tell me a few hundred more times…I can be a bit stubborn," Ani smirked.

"Not stubborn enough," replied Vader warningly.

"For you?"

"For the Emperor," Vader told him.

"I don't need to be. You won't send me to him. You won't go through with it, not now," Ani said.

"You are mistaken," Vader promised.

"Am I?"

"The Emperor will soon hear of your presence here. I could not keep you from him this time if I wanted to," Vader said.

"But you do want to," Ani observed.

"Perhaps. But not for the reasons you assume," responded the Sith.

"You want me to turn to the Dark Side. Become your apprentice," Ani closed his eyes in sad understanding.

"I offered you that chance once before, to spare your father's life. Now you must choose for your yourself. Know the power of the Dark Side of the Force, Anakin. Help me overthrow the Emperor," Vader said, and the beneath the words, beneath the twisted intent and fractured reasoning, Ani felt a desperate, muted plea that made his throat constrict.

Along with that silent, imploring need, he felt the truth of Vader, the answer to the question that he was about to ask. He knew, too, what he would have to do, and while the decision stabbed ruthlessly through his chest, he knew that it may well be his only chance.

"And then what, Uncle?" he asked quietly.

"Then you will rule the galaxy at my side. Heir to all of it, heir to everything I have," Vader promised.

Ani slowly wet his lips, regarding the Sith Lord with an expression that he kept serene and unruffled by sheer strength of will. "What do you have?"

"Power. Secrets of the Force that your Jedi Masters could never dare unlock for you. Riches. Peace, Anakin. Whatever you desire," Vader swore. "I always meant it to be yours!"

"All that I have ever wanted is my family, whole and complete again," Ani replied.

"That will change," Vader replied.

"I don't want it to change, Uncle. Neither do you. Isn't that why you saved me from the Temple? Why you wanted to take my mother and I away?" asked Ani. "Or did you intend to corrupt me even then? A four-year-old boy who trusted and loved you?"

"No--I…those things no longer matter!" Vader insisted abruptly.

"Of course they do. Uncle Anakin, you didn't want to turn me to the Dark Side then. How can you even think of making me your apprentice now?" he asked, keeping his tone soft and open, without any hint of judgment or reprimand.

"You don't know the power of the Dark Side," Vader told him.

"I know that the Dark Side kills and destroys," Ani replied calmly. "Search your feelings, Uncle. Tell me what it is that you _really_ want."

"I will have all that I want when the Emperor is dead and you rule the Empire beside me," Vader told him.

"Why, because then you'll be able to do to me what he's done to you? Trap me, bind me to you in a web of lies and abuse until I can't see anything left but to stay beside you? You don't have to do that, Uncle Anakin. I love you," Ani promised.

"Your love for Anakin Skywalker will be your undoing," declared Vader.

"If it has to be," Ani said without flinching.


	183. First Steps II

High Command readily approved the proposed rescue mission, but Luke and the Rogues had been prepared to go with or without sanction from the Alliance. Now that they had it, all of them found it difficult to restrain the pent up energy and restless frustration that their determination to rescue Luke's family had fueled in them. Intelligence had to be gathered, however. They needed to know where Vader was and whether the prisoners were being held on the _Executor_ or somewhere in Cloud City. The last thing that they had been able to learn from Lobot was that the Super Star Destroyer was still in orbit, but they couldn't risk launching a rescue attempt only to have the target vessel be gone when they arrived. Lando said that Vader's intent had been to deliver the boys to the Emperor on Coruscant. Obi Wan suspected that he would delay his departure now that he had Ani conscious and not frozen in a block of carbonite. He predicted that his former apprentice would garrison the city, using the chaos caused by Lando's warning to his citizens as a convenient excuse, and then remain to oversee the affair himself. Luke trusted his father and believed that Obi Wan's reasoning was sound, but no one wanted to take any chances.

Vader would be able to sense Luke's presence if he tried to conduct a recon mission himself. The Sith would be expecting a rescue, so there was no chance of employing the element of surprise during an attack, but the recon team had to be able to slip in and back out again without detection. Under normal circumstances, the Kenobis would have looked to Han for a job like this, but with him gone as well, Wedge and Hobbie had stepped up for the task. Luke had watched them leave over an hour ago, and he still stood staring out at the stars, decidedly at a loss. Command of Rogue Squadron came back to him more easily than he had actually expected it would, but Ani and Han were as much parts of him as any of his wing-mates.

He felt as if he was trying to walk a tightrope with a missing arm or leg. An ironic smile flickered across his lips, and he flexed the fingers of his new right hand. A better analogy might be "grasping at things with fingers that no longer belonged to him." He had a sudden, new and unwanted appreciation for Ani's re-learned Jedi skills, and he wondered whether he would be called upon to test his own against the Dark Lord again before this was over. Tendrils of icy fear snaked upward from the pit of his stomach, rustling and whispering along his innards in a slithering, revoltingly cold caress. He resisted a shudder and dug deeper within himself. Anger laid waiting beneath the fear. Perhaps it was even the flip side of the same emotional coin. It would have been easy to latch onto that, to burn away the arctic taint of terror and dread with blistering, vengeful fury. He hesitated on the brink of decision, conscious of a battle already in progress between the two emotions—like the roiling of storm clouds that threatened to break and pour down waves of blinding cold paralysis and sweeping hot destruction. Deeper feelings called in a soft, barely audible murmur, and he held himself still. He knew that allowing anger to have such sway in his heart was not the choice of a Jedi, but there was something else here, some insight teasing along the edges of his awareness which prevented him from simply rejecting both feelings out of hand.

Leia and Padme would have told him that it was perfectly natural for him to be afraid after what had happened to him. Maybe it was. He had certainly felt enough fear when he and Ani walked into the freezing chamber and came upon the towering black figure of the Sith Lord who had once been as close to their father as the two Kenobi brothers were now. The knowledge of Vader's real identity made him all the more chilling to Luke. Echoes of his experience in the cave still lingered, his brother's dead and vacant eyes staring up at him whenever he contemplated the man that their father had called—no, still called—brother.

His feelings had not overwhelmed him then. Even when he had to face Vader alone and realized that his own skill with a lightsaber was inadequate against a being who was half machine and probably the best living swordsman in the galaxy, he had been able to control his rising panic. It was only in the final moments, knowing he was beaten, when Vader's lies tore down what his lightsaber had been unable to take. He flexed his fingers again, fighting the surge of fury that came at the memory of what the Sith Lord had tried to do—to turn him against his parents and brother in one blow.

The man who did those things was the same one who had once rushed to Yavin 4 in order to save Obi Wan with no more than Padme's nightmare to motivate him. The next day, he'd saved the newborn Ani's life. How many times had Luke heard that story? He shook his head, unable to even venture a guess, but then a chill passed through him that was at the very core of his fear now. Hadn't _he_ once raced against time to reach Yavin—to reach the very same cave where Anakin Skywalker had fought Asajj Ventress--in order to save Ani's life? In a way, wasn't the choice he had to make now the same one that Anakin Skywalker had made?

Luke had spent enough time talking with his brother on Dagobah to realize that it was terror for Padme and Ani that drove Anakin to the Dark Side and ultimately created Vader. Hadn't it also been_ fear_ of his own emotion? From what Yoda and Ani said, Skywalker had never easily admitted to being afraid. Luke was beginning to think he understood why. The only other time he could remember feeling the sort of cold, desperate dread that he sensed building within himself today was when he had realized--too late--what had happened to Owen and Beru. Racing across the desert in the grip of that terrible, rising, helpless panic, knowing all the while that they couldn't reach the farm in time, he had felt at once like a herd beast driven over the dunes by terrifying instinct and like a caged thing, trapped and hurling itself against an implacable barrier, desperate for escape.

The old Jedi had never really taught Anakin how to deal with fear. Probably no one had. His early life had been that of a slave in a spaceport town. Fear was as much a liability there as it came to be for him as a Jedi later on. The way of the Jedi had been to recognize and then release emotions that they perceived as potentially dangerous, but Anakin had been burying worries and uncertainties long before he came to Coruscant, and that habit would have been unlikely to change once the concept of "fear" gained such a powerful and decidedly negative connotation in his life.

Yoda and Mace had both cited that emotion as the reason for their objections to his training. He had already learned to perceive it as a weakness while on Tatooine. Padme and Obi Wan both described him as a proudly earnest boy who hungered after the approval of those he loved. Luke could relate to that as well. How often had he felt the need to compete with Ani, justified or not? How much had he wished for the kind of relationship that Ani had with their father? Neither of them had ever consciously excluded him, but even as a boy he was sensitive enough to feel something of the unique closeness that the two of them shared. Now he understood the shared suffering and the awful weight of the secret which had sealed that bond, but growing up it had often translated to him as a feeling of being indulgently tolerated and protected by them rather than accepted as a Kenobi heir or a future Jedi in his own right. That, more than anything else, was what had ultimately led him to decide to give up his Jedi training after the Battle of Yavin.

By all accounts, Anakin Skywalker had loved and admired Obi Wan. Even so, Obi Wan himself readily stated that when he began Anakin's training, he was doing so because he felt obligated to honor Qui-Gon's dying request. Knowing that, the young Padawan had probably grown up wondering whether his Master truly believed in him at all. The last thing he would have wanted to do would be to admit to fear which would be then regarded as failure and a confirmation of the things that the Jedi Council had originally said about him.

For Luke, at least, there had never been any doubt that Obi Wan loved and believed in him. The question that weighed on his heart was always whether his father would ever see him as Ani's equal--or even whether he could be Ani's equal when it came to the Jedi Arts. Obi Wan had been a different person when he trained Anakin Skywalker. He was far more sparse with praise and less demonstrative of his affection for his pupils. As a Jedi Knight in the Old Order, that was how he had to be. Time and circumstances had tempered him for Luke; Padme and Ani had already changed him, and now Luke realized that his guilt over what had happened to his first apprentice had affected the way he treated his children as well. He imagined that, without any of those things to benefit him, young Anakin would often have been uncertain of his standing in his Master's eyes.

By the time he was old enough and knew Obi Wan well enough that those concerns might have been laid to rest, he had already learned to bury his fears in a way that was not only unhealthy but dangerous in a Jedi. He was a volatile man, and Palpatine had undoubtedly exerted some kind of subtle pressure on his mind and heart, adding weight to the problem and slowly tipping the scales toward real and deadly psychological imbalance. With the Sith Lord's machinations steadily eroding his rocky mental foundation and robbing him of the support of friends who might have helped him, Anakin Skywalker had been left to paralyzing fear.

On Dagobah, Ani had related more about his experiences during and after Obi Wan's fateful mission to Utapau than Luke had ever known. He'd be a bit surprised at Ani's willingness to talk about it with him, but their relationship had changed since they'd left Tatooine--more so since the brothers had reconciled their differences after Luke arrived in the swamp. If he was going to be honest with himself, he had to admit that _he_ had changed. He knew that he _could_ be Ani's equal as a Jedi if he chose to be, and he understood that he could do so without also being Ani's rival. Ani responded by treating him as a partner, and Luke had begun to see that most of what he perceived as a problem in their relationship was actually more Ani's need to shield him from the truth of Vader and the trauma that he had experienced in the Temple than a real lack of balance or respect.

One of the things that continued to haunt Ani was the pervading, debilitating fear that Anakin had felt--and which Ani experienced through him--in the final moments before his decision to leave the safety of the Council Chamber for Palpatine's office. Luke didn't know exactly what had happened in that room. He only knew that while Anakin Skywalker left the Jedi Temple that night, Darth Vader returned. He could well imagine the emotional and psychological crisis that birthed the Sith Lord, though. In fact, he could grasp it so easily and so clearly that his own understanding sent ice coursing through his bloodstream.

Caught between two storms and with the specter of Padme's death looming over him in silent accusation, Skywalker had sought to use rage to burn out his fear. Initially, it may have worked, at least enough to propel him through the confrontation with Palpatine, but afterward, the monster he'd unleashed began to consume him. All that he ended up with was an eternally uneasy stalemate, with fear and anger battling for possession of his psyche and ultimately controlling everything he did. Luke knew that this was not the answer. He would have to find another way if he was going to save his brother.

He wished that Ani was here now. The elder Kenobi brother was so much better when it came to things like this. With his empathic and intuitive strengths, he had an understanding of emotions that was entirely different from Luke's, and he knew far more about both Vader and Anakin Skywalker than Luke did. He shook his head roughly, turning away from the window. There was no sense in wishing. Ani wasn't here and he wasn't going to miraculously free himself. Luke was going to have to figure this out for himself. He was still missing something; he could feel it, but he couldn't reach the knowledge he needed. Sighing, he gave his head another shake and started toward his parents' quarters… 


	184. For The Heart I Once Had

In response to his simple declaration, Ani felt the Sith Lord's feelings shift, but not in the direction that he had been hoping. Vader's emotions darkened, and the storm that he was in the Force roiled dangerously. Ani's brow creased as he sought the source of the turmoil and found Obi Wan.

"Very well," Vader intoned as he turned to leave. His cloak flared as he moved, promising menace to the stalwart Jedi Knight.

Ani closed his eyes rather than watch Vader sweep toward the door, and as he did, he saw again the glowing volcanic atmosphere of Mustafar. His mother lay unconscious on the ground, and his father stood between her and Anakin Skywalker, pleading with the former Jedi to let him take her to a medcenter.

_"You don't get to take her anywhere. You don't get to touch her anymore. She's mine now, do you understand? It's your fault, all of it--you took her from me, and you made her betray me!" Anakin roared._

"Anakin, she was never yours. She hasn't betrayed you. You betrayed her. You betrayed her faith in you," Obi Wan said wearily.

The Sith's reply was to ignite his lightsaber. Obi Wan Kenobi sighed and raised his own, left only one choice--left no choice at all. "Then I will do what I must."

That was what Vader heard now--shades of Obi Wan, and it didn't matter to him that Ani was promising something which essentially meant the exact opposite of what Obi Wan's words on Mustafar had come to evoke for him. Where the father had sworn to do what duty required of him, even if it meant destroying Anakin Skywalker, the son was now promising to sacrifice his _own_ life, if need be, in order to save him. Beneath those things though, Vader heard the same quiet acceptance, the same submission to the will of the Force, the willingness to be used _by_ the Force to accomplish what must be done.

Ani couldn't deny the similarity, nor would he want to, even if by doing so he could stop Vader now. He and his father had always been more alike than different. When it came to their views of the Force and what it meant to be a Jedi, they were practically identical. For Vader, though, that made Ani the enemy. The Jedi and everything they believed were now anathema to him--the representation of what he saw as his own betrayal, the reason for his disfigurement and the life he was now forced to live. His hand was rising toward the door, and Ani opened his mouth, unsure of what he could even say until the words were spoken.

"You must be very tired, Uncle."

"What?" Vader turned instinctively back toward him, and Ani could feel his confusion.

"I can sense how much pain you're in. That suit doesn't fit right, and neither do your legs. I know at least one of your arms doesn't either. They weren't designed for you, and I doubt Palpatine ever had them fitted as they should have been. I imagine it's all rather shoddy given what I've seen of how the Empire builds anything. I'd be tired. Always struggling, never comfortable, hardly ever able to sleep. I've learned a lot about the way that pain leads to fatigue in the last three years," Ani told him frankly.

Vader came closer but halted midway across the room, keeping a wary distance now. For a brief moment, his thoughts and feelings reflected everything that Ani had said. Fear--the same fear that Ani had felt spreading its way through Anakin Skywalker like a cancer on the night of the siege at the Jedi Temple--ran rampant through him now. It was compounded by twenty-two years of escalating pain and exhaustion, twisting his thoughts and edging him dangerously near panic as he began to understand that Ani was as aware of his feelings now as he had been all those years ago. Ani knew him, and that made him vulnerable--because if Ani knew him, he could still wound him. Like Obi Wan.

"No, Uncle Anakin, listen--"

Vader tensed inwardly, clamping off his own weariness and suffering as a rush of misdirected anger gave him new focus and pushed away both physical and mental exhaustion.

"Your pity will not sway me, boy. You will turn. Or you will die," he vowed.

Ani sighed softly. "I don't _pity_ you, Uncle Anakin. I love you, and I _care_ that you are suffering. I want to help you. But I don't feel sorry for you one bit."

"Stop using _that name_!" Vader roared.

"I can't."

"You _will!_" Vader took a step closer, and Ani felt himself hurled backwards. He sucked in a breath, but did nothing to counter the motion, keeping his body limp and relaxed as he collided head-first into the wall behind him.

He slumped forward, falling onto the bunk, and then rolled onto his side. His ears rang, and with his head swimming again, he didn't bother opening his eyes as Vader came toward him. The Sith Lord was a mass of conflicting feelings that only exacerbated Ani's vertigo. He felt his uncle's anger give way to remorse, which he violently shoved away before it could lead to what he perceived as weakness. In its place, he erected a wall of disgust--but he couldn't quite manage the contempt he was trying to establish. He couldn't quite see Ani as nothing more than another Jedi.

The bond between them still remained, whether Vader wanted it to be there or not. Slowly, Ani opened his eyes then groaned and blinked at the illusion of _two_ Vaders now towering over him. The double-vision cleared, and the pair of hulking Sith merged back into a single being.

"Well, I suppose I should be glad that was a Force _push_ instead of a Force choke," the Jedi sighed ironically.

"You should have tried to stop yourself!" Vader exclaimed.

"I told you I wouldn't resist," Ani reminded him, still not sitting up.

"Then you are a fool," Vader pronounced.

"I've been called worse," Ani replied easily.

Vader turned again, striding away from him, but this time he halted after only a few paces. Ani watched his back for a second, listening to the labored rasp of the Sith Lord's breathing. Then he pushed himself up by the elbow and swung his legs to the floor.

"Uncle, if you want me to hate you, you're going to have try harder than that," he said as he slid to his feet. He eyed the holorecorders speculatively for a moment. It was obvious to him that Vader had intended to offer him the chance to be his Sith Apprentice. He would have chosen this room on purpose--in fact, he might well have brought Ani here himself. That would have to mean that there was no audio feed in here, and Ani could easily use that to his advantage.

He approached Vader slowly, moving toward him in a wide arc that gave him ample warning and opportunity to either move or order Ani away. The Sith Lord half turned, cocking his head to keep the Jedi in his line of sight, and Ani carefully raised his hands. Between that gesture of openness and the ridiculous electrobinders that still dangled from his waist, he hoped that he would seem non-threatening enough for Vader to let him close the distance between them.

"But that's not what you really want, is it?" he asked softly.

Vader didn't reply, and Ani cautiously moved closer. The rate of Vader's respiration began to pick up, and Ani could feel his frustration at being made so visibly vulnerable. Even if Ani hadn't _sensed_ his growing anxiety, he would have heard it in the pace of the breather's horrible racket.

"You just want me to stay," Ani went on in the same tone of gentle understanding. He halted, keeping his hands open in front of him. "You think that the only way you can make that happen is to make me your apprentice. But we both know what will happen then. Everything that matters between us would be destroyed, eaten up by hatred. I might be at your side, Uncle, but I wouldn't be with you. We would be enemies the same way that you and your Emperor are enemies, and with him gone who would we fight except one another? I can't believe that's what you truly want."

Vader stared at him silently, then looked around the room in confusion. His emotions still churned and roiled dangerously, frothing with fear and suspicion. He sensed no deception in Ani, but neither had he sensed it in Obi Wan--or in Palpatine. Both of them had lied to him. The Emperor had used him for his entire life, trapped him in a miserable half-existence that he loathed, and taken from him everything that he had hoped for--everyone who mattered. He stood as if anchored to the floor, but Ani didn't dare move.

He knew more intimately than anyone else that Vader was not blameless. He had chosen the path that he now walked, but the truth was that he had been used. He had been wronged in one way or another by everyone who had formed the fragile support-structure upon which his life had been built. Qui-Gon, albeit unintentionally, had taken him from his mother, promising to protect and guide him, only to die and in doing so, not only leave him in the care of a man unprepared to take on the responsibility of a Padawan but saddling them both with the weight of the ancient prophecy of the Chosen One. Furthermore, Qui-Gon had been unable to free Anakin's mother, when Anakin had been convinced that the Jedi had come to Tatooine to free the slaves. Whether he had wanted to leave Shmi or not, the fact was that he had. Whether he had realized that he would die on Naboo or not, the reality was that Qui-Gon's loss felt like abandonment to young Anakin Skywalker--the first in a long string of broken trusts. Obi Wan and Padme, though they might never have lied to him in the way that Palpatine had convinced him the did, had both wounded him with lies of omission more than once. They believed that they had withheld things that only would have caused him more anguish, but in keeping those things from him, they had shaken his faith in them, marred his understanding of friendship, which was already on rocky ground, and left him even more vulnerable to Palpatine's manipulation. The Jedi Council--which was supposed to have been made up of the wisest beings in religious order to which he had bound his life and service--had taken advantage of his loyalty and his desperate need for approval and asked him to do things which were both against his conscience and against the very Code by which the Order was supposed to operate. Mace Windu, the Jedi who had stepped in to fill Obi Wan's role as his mentor when Obi Wan left the Order, had not only supported the Council's requests but led the contingent of Jedi who had intended to arrest Palpatine. Anakin himself had watched as that attempt at arrest deteriorated into a battle to the death between Windu and Sidious. When he had pleaded with Windu for Palpatine's life, reminding him rightly that it was not the Jedi Way to kill a man without trial, he had been harshly rebuked. Whether Mace had been right or not, the damage to Anakin's view of the people who had shaped him was done. His already flawed and fractured support system shattered and he tumbled wildly and inevitably down a dark shaft of betrayal to land at the feet of Darth Sidious.

His mind had already been too far gone at that point. He had been too hurt, too manipulated and confused by Palpatine. He had already been exhausted--mentally, emotionally, even physically. Years of constant nightmares robbed him of the ability to sleep, and Sidious had taken advantage of that weakness. Short-term sleep deprivation caused impatience, irritability, and a decreased ability to concentrate--which was essential to a Jedi's ability to use the Force. Over longer periods of time, as for Anakin Skywalker, who had been tortured by nightmares for years and had no outlet or support for the effects that those dreams had on him, it led to confusion, depersonalization, derealization, and paranoia. If it went on long enough, lack of sleep could even lead to hallucinations. All of that only made it easier for Palpatine to twist his mind and more difficult for Anakin to be able to reason clearly. Now, twenty-two years later, his thoughts were riddled with self-loathing, his ability to reason clouded by a haze of phenomenal weariness and constant physical suffering--twisted by the endless, psychotic manipulation of the creature he called Master.

The things Ani said to him seemed to make sense, but it had been so long since he had interacted with anyone in a manner which did not involve either pure physical domination or psychological warfare that he couldn't be sure. He couldn't see his way through to a way of thinking so open and without treachery. He could barely remember a time in his life when _anything_ had been that simple or honest. It seemed utterly alien to him--and Ani could be lying. He _must_ be lying!

All of this flashed through Vader's mind in a matter of seconds. Ani read it in a half-crazed jumble of images, sensations, and emotions, but he let it wash over him without trying to analyze or interpret anything. Then he reached into the Force as he began to digest it all, holding himself still and open, allowing the Force to gradually reorder the chaos of Vader's mind.

His parents had taught him to walk a careful line between the detachment practiced by the Old Jedi Order and the self-centered immersion in feeling that was inherent to being a Sith. Obi Wan and Padme had shown him, together, that it was possible to feel without losing oneself in emotion, that a Jedi could love without selfish attachment. It was that wisdom which enabled him to first hold himself still, accepting Vader's thoughts and feelings, then to move his own conscious back just far enough to see and feel without losing himself in the tumult.

"Oh, Uncle Anakin," he said softly. "I'm not lying to you. I love you, and I _don't_ want to cause you pain."


	185. Travelling Companions

Obi-Too and Junior were quiet and subdued after their session with Rei Ashryal, the minder that Padme had arranged for them to see while the rest of the family had been on Bespin. They were half huddled together at one side of the couch in their grandparents' living room, murmuring to one another in soft words and phrases that seemed to Leia to be comprised as much of hums and whistles as actual words. What words they used were unintelligible to her in any case, but she found the entire exchange fascinating.

She wasn't surprised by the fact that they had a private language. She and Luke had shared a similar one, though by the time she left for Alderaan, they had for the most part allowed it to fade and relied on Basic for their verbal communication. Obi Wan and Padme had never discouraged them from using their version of "twinspeak," probably because they realized that making an issue of it would be a sure way to hinder their developing fluency in Basic. They had, however, quietly and subtly demonstrated approval when their children used proper Basic. They either ignored or corrected with the use of any kind of slang or "babytalk" by providing a more acceptable alternative, and gradually Luke and Leia had gotten the message that Basic was the preferred language in the house and would be rewarded with parental warmth and appreciation. The same thing appeared to be true for Ani's children, and as a result Leia had never actually heard them speak anything but an understandable language. Like herself and Luke, they had learned only to use private talk when they were alone. She wasn't sure whether their reversion to it now meant that they viewed her as someone who would be more accepting of the behavior or that they were simply too emotionally drained to care. She suspect that it was probably the latter, and as such she was glad that her parents had had the foresight to seek the help of a minder.

Leia had been a little surprised when her mother asked her to bring the boys back from Rei's. She hadn't expected Obi Wan to be so open to the idea of involving minders with the twins. Apparently, however, he had agreed without reservation, and Rei came highly recommended. Although young, about Leia's own age, she had worked with a number of Rebel officers suffering from post-traumatic stress or other similar problems. She had even counseled some of the Alderanians who had been serving with the Fleet when the planet was destroyed, including Bail, which had probably been one of the reasons that Padme chose her instead of one of her older colleagues. Leia trusted her mother's judgment, and although it seemed somewhat strange to her that the twins weren't peppering her with questions or racing home to work on their latest mechanical project, she could easily recognize that their current emotional state was a marked improvement over the agitation and disconsolate howling that they'd been prone to since their parents and sister were abducted. Rei didn't have a lot of experience working with empathic children, but it was clear that her competence, warmth, and willingness to use innovative methods were making up for the lack.

Since the boys didn't seem inclined to talk and she didn't want to press them, she merely watched unobtrusively until her mother returned. When Padme came in, they slid off to their feet and went to hug her. There was none of their usual excited greeting babble, but they didn't cling, either. Padme walked them back to the couch and let them climb up on either side of her. Leia was in no particular hurry, and she didn't really want to be alone with the empty silence of Han's absence, so she waited patiently until Padme had asked the boys about their afternoon and gave them an abbreviated version of her own. That had involved meetings and discussions with Mon and several other key political leaders in the rebellion regarding the structure and implementation of a potential interim government whenever the Alliance actually succeeded in breaking the Empire's grip on the galaxy. Leia had been present for some of those talks; others she would have to hear about at some point before she left, but there were other, more pressing concerns at the moment.

"Rei says she wants to come by and talk to you and dad this evening," she told her mother when Padme had finished talking to the boys.

"All right, I'll send her a--" Padme started to say when the door slid open.

Luke looked troubled and a bit disheveled. Leia frowned, sensing confusion and anxiety in her twin as he came inside. He walked over to the couch and greeted the boys, tousling their hair, then half-teasingly asked them whether had taken apart Threepio today. When they promised that the protocol droid was perfectly functional, he concluded that they must have been busy working on something new. Junior shook his head and Obi-Too explained that they hadn't felt like working on their new droid. Leia and Padme shared a smile at the interchange, watching with appreciation as he cajoled the pair off the couch and talked them into doing something more fun than just sitting there all afternoon. He guided them to their room with a hand on each of their shoulders and then leaned in the doorway for a minute or two. Some of the weariness left the set of his shoulders as he stood there, but finally he palmed the door sensor and turned back to the living room.

"Is Dad around?" he asked pensively.

"He was talking to Uncle Bail," Padme replied. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," he shrugged as he returned to the couch. Padme shifted closer to him, and Leia moved to his opposite side, frowning again with concern. "I just—was thinking. I wanted to talk to Ani, but he's not here…"

"Thinking about what?" Padme asked.

"Vader…me…the Jedi," Luke related with a long sigh. "I'm missing something, Mom. Ani would know. With him gone, I feel like I'm operating with half of my brain or something."

"Ani hasn't been here for almost three years," Leia pointed out supportively. "You've done all right for yourself before now."

"Well, I know, but I wasn't trying to understand the Force or anything to do with Uncle Anakin or…feelings," Luke gave another shrug. "This is Ani's territory."

"Yours too. You're a Jedi," Leia reminded him.

"I know," he smiled. "But there's still something I'm not seeing, and it's important."

"Well, what is it?" Padme asked. "What makes you think you're missing something?"

"It's…" he began, then trailed off in thought. He closed his mouth, frowning, and took a long moment to gather his thoughts, pressing one hand to his lips as he did so. Then he drew in a breath and haltingly took them through the complicated process of thought and feeling that had brought him in search of Obi Wan. Leia and Padme listened without comment, although there were several times when Leia was sorely tempted to interrupt. She checked the urge, however, realizing that it was important to allow Luke to finish the story. When he concluded with his decision to talk to their father, he said, "I know that there's nothing wrong with being angry with Vader or even afraid, Sis. The problem is, I'm more afraid for Ani than I am for myself."

"What do you mean?" Leia asked.

"When we were on Dagobah Yoda tested me. He sent me into a cave that was some sort of nexus of Dark Side energy. I had vision of…Vader. He attacked me and I got angry and killed him. I…beheaded him. But…" Luke broke off, flicking his gaze uncomfortably toward the floor.

"It was Ani, wasn't it?" Leia asked softly.

Luke nodded, not speaking.

"I felt it," Leia told him with quiet understanding. "Han and I had just decided to head for Bespin and see Lando at Cloud City, and suddenly I knew something terrible had happened on Dagobah. I didn't know what exactly had happened, but I could feel you. How horrified and frightened you were."

"We all felt it. Dad, the twins," Padme added.

"I know it was a warning. I can't let that happen. I can't do what Uncle Anakin did, but I can't let fear keep me from saving Ani," Luke said.

"You don't have to," their mother told him, reaching for his hand. "It doesn't have to be one or the other. You don't have to choose between anger and fear, Luke. You're already doing what your Uncle did and you don't even realize it. You don't have to be afraid of your emotions. You can face them. You can be angry or afraid without letting those things control you."

"Mom…" he looked up at her slowly. "What if I can't do it? What if I can't beat him?"

"You won't be alone next time," Leia promised him. "That's not the way we do things in this family."

"But—" he sighed in frustration. "If we fail, Ani and Isaly and the kids will all die."

"You love your brother. And your sister, and Isaly and the children. Use _that,_" Padme told him firmly. "When you're angry or afraid, son, that is what you have to focus on. That's what this family is about. That's where our strength lies. Nothing can stand up to that forever—no Jedi power, no Sith Emperor. Nothing. I promise you."

Luke nodded in acceptance and started to say something else, but as soon as he opened his mouth his eyes flew wide with shock and pain. The twins began to wail in the other room, and half a second later, Leia felt a terrible surge as the Force screamed with tumultuous warning.

"Ani--damn it!" Luke leapt to his feet. "Damn Vader!"

"Luke, no," Padme latched onto his arm, pulling herself up as well.

"The twins," Leia said quietly.

Luke glanced at her in surprise, then gave a quick nod of understanding. They hurried into the boys' room and found Obi-Too and Junior clutching one another on the floor amid their playthings and mechanical parts. Wordlessly, Luke and Leia scooped them up, but they clung to one another, stubborn and frightened. It took several minutes of patient coaxing before they were willing to release their grip on each other, and then Padme guided the small group through the mess and over to Junior's bed. Sinking onto it, Leia cradled the helpless and weeping boy in her arms, doing her best to offer comfort and protection, but it seemed to have no settling effect.  
Obi Wan and Bail found them a few minutes later, still all gathered there. They came in silently and each slid onto the bed, pushing everyone closer together in order to make room for them. The twins had quieted by then, but Leia could still feel poor Obi-Too trembling with fear that was probably less than half his own. She cast a helpless look at her parents, who all exchanged worried glances. Then Obi Wan pressed a hand to his lips in troubled consideration.

"Boys," he began gently. "I know you're frightened. It's all right. I promise you, Daddy is going to be fine."

"Vader gonna kill him!" Obi-Too shook his head violently.

_"I don't want my daddy to die!"_ Junior wailed.

Luke shook his head, shifted Junior into Padme's arms and got to his feet. "That isn't going to happen, Anakin. I promise you. Whatever we have to do. We won't let anyone die."


	186. Whoever Brings The Night

Oddly, Vader's thoughts turned again toward Obi Wan. This time, the images were different, more fragmented, and Ani had no real point of reference for them other than the disjointed connections he could pick up from Vader's mind. The voices, though were unmistakable.

_"Why do I think that you're going to be the death of me?" Obi Wan asked, weary and exasperated._

"Don't say that, Master," Anakin pleaded solemnly. "You're the closest thing I have to a father. I love you, and I don't want to cause you pain."

"Then why don't you listen to me?" Obi Wan snapped.

"I am trying," Anakin told him earnestly. He had expected his Master to turn away, Ani realized. Maybe Obi Wan had even started to, but in the end he had reached out to his Padawan with a quiet gesture of affection which, even now, Vader could recall--and the memory sent a shard of longing through him.

Ani clearly saw his father give his head a little shake and reach for young Anakin's arm, giving it a light squeeze. "Anakin. Come on. Do you see him?"

Ani held himself utterly still, barely breathing as the voices drifted off and the images faded. Vader still stared at him, both desperately wanting to accept the truth of Ani's love for him and frantically needing to prove it was a lie.

"Every Kenobi I have ever known has caused me nothing but pain," he remarked bitterly.

"I'm not my parents," Ani said, forcing his jaw not to clench in response. He knew that it would do him no good to remind Vader of how much pain that he, in turn, had caused the Kenobis--even those he had never met. It would have been far too easy to let Vader turn the conversation into a spiral of blame and counter-blame. In fact, that was probably exactly what the Sith Lord wanted. He existed in a world of guilt and blame which escalated into hatred--for himself as much as for Palpatine. Hate became rage, and rage could keep him from sinking into despair. Rage opened him to the Dark Side, gave him the only power that he had felt he had left.

"You would have killed me on the Death Star to keep him alive," Vader flung at him.

"I'm sorry. I gave in to my anger," Ani said without flinching.

"Your anger made you strong," Vader said.

"Obviously not strong enough," Ani replied with a self-deprecating shrug. He glanced down briefly to indicate his hands. Then he looked up at Vader with a quiet plea. "Don't you see what anger almost did to us? On the Death Star, my father ordered me to stay behind and help my brother rescue Leia. I disobeyed him because I was hoping that I could save you _both._"

"An arrogant decision," Vader rebuked coldly.

"Maybe it was arrogant. I underestimated you," Ani admitted. "But I didn't go with my father because I wanted to kill you. I just wanted to keep _you_ from killing _him._ You would have done the same thing once."

"Anakin Skywalker might have. But he was a fool," Vader sneered. "As you are, boy. Saving that used up old man very nearly cost you your own life."

"I would give it without hesitation for either of you," Ani said, carefully keeping his instinctive desire to defend Obi Wan in check.

"You are worse than a fool in that case," pronounced Vader.

"I already told you, I've been called worse," Ani smiled.

"You will not be so flippant when you stand before the Emperor," Vader warned.

"Probably not," Ani shrugged. "But I still don't think you're going to hand me over to him."

"Then you are still underestimating me," Vader said.

"No, I'm believing in you," Ani shook his head.

"Anakin Skywalker was never the hero you thought he was," Vader told him.

"You never had to be a hero," shrugged Ani. "Or in any case, you never had to be the Hero With No Fear. It was never him I believed in."

"Then your faith was even more misplaced," said Vader cruelly.

"No, it wasn't. Children believe most in the people who love them--or the ones they want to love them. I was lucky. Both of my heroes loved me. They still do," Ani smiled again.

"That will not help you against the Emperor," Vader warned.

"But anger will?" Ani let out a short, rueful breath. "Uncle Anakin, anger is what the Emperor has used against you all these years. If I had been strong enough or skilled enough to defeat you in battle, or if my anger had somehow enabled me to get the better of you and I had killed you on the Death Star, what do you think it would have done to me afterward?"

"It would have shown you where your true power lies," Vader responded, almost wheedling now.

"No. It would have destroyed me. The same way that it would have killed you to have been responsible for my death. Think, Uncle. Stop listening to Palpatine's lies and just _think._ Nothing that monster has ever said to you has been truthful. You must realize that. Why should the things that he's taught you about the Dark Side be any different?"

"The Dark Side _is_ power!" Vader exclaimed.

"But at what cost?" Ani shook his head. "Uncle, why did you reach out to me when the _Falcon_ escaped the Death Star?"

"I…" Vader trailed off in confusion, groping blindly through years of mental conditioning and immersion in the teachings of the Sith.

"You wanted me to forgive you. Remember?" Ani prompted. "You knew the cost was too high."

"I…"

"I do forgive you," Ani promised, his eyes filling with tears as he spoke. "I know you weren't trying to kill me, Uncle. Any more than I was trying to kill you. I understand why you took my hand--why it was my _hand_ that you took first and not my arm. But don't you remember who _taught_ you that distinction? Don't you see that I couldn't let him go? I _had_ to protect him. Search your feelings. You _know_ that I would just as soon have jumped between you and _his_ lightsaber if your positions had been reversed."

"Ani…" Vader shook his head as if trying to clear it.

"Uncle," Ani stepped forward in the Sith's moment of hesitation, reaching out to clasp the arm that Dooku had taken from him on Geonosis. That arm, at least, had been fitted to him and functioned properly. It was probably the only remaining part of Vader's body that he was even remotely comfortable with. Gripping it just above the elbow, Ani reached over with his free hand to clasp his uncle's. The pain and turmoil he sensed from Vader intensified with the contact, crashing over him--through him--in waves as brutal as those he had experienced during the massacre in the Jedi Temple.

Even on the Death Star, Ani had been aware of his uncle's pain and frustration. He had felt some of that suffering, and mentally examining the duel later, he had been able to intuit some of the major flaws in the workings of Vader's pressurized bodysuit and the miasma of mismatched, ill-fitting mechnos that allowed him to walk and hold a lightsaber. Obi Wan had intimately known Anakin Skywalker's fighting style and lightsaber technique. He had drilled Ani for years with the expectation that they would one day face Anakin in combat. The differences in Vader's lightsaber technique alone would have been telling, even if Ani hadn't been able to feel that the man was in pain.

Now, though--in physical contact with Anakin Skywalker for the first time since he was four years old, Ani Kenobi needed no analytical skill, no strategic training or understanding of the principles of lightsaber combat. He was breathing through lungs that for all intents and purposes weren't there.

Nightmare images crashed through reality, then became reality as he sank into an old vision and lost himself in the hell of the suit. There was no light, no air that wasn't canned and stale, no sound that wasn't filled with static or distorted to the point that he could barely make out words and phrases. Feedback needled him, and he felt constantly off balance, a sense that was exacerbated by the boots he wore--raised, clunky platform heels that pitched him forward onto stubby, clawlike toes, making his movements heavy and awkward. Walking was more like slogging through half-hardened concrete. Conscious his physical vulnerability, paranoia gnawed constantly at the edges of his mind.

A panicked, claustrophobic need to escape, to be rid of the suit and feel human again beat at his mind. Instinctively, he opened himself further to the current of the Force around them, reaching into it for peace and clarity. Only then could he distance himself enough to become Anakin Kenobi again--to understand that he still lived in a body which breathed of its own accord and saw with human eyes. Even his arms and legs, so like Vader's in many ways, were not the same. They were fitted to him and designed to work with his body. He could feel the Force in his arms and legs, where Vader had never been able to. No one had even suggested to him that such a thing might be possible. Vader's only connection to the Force came through the pain and rage that allowed him to use the Dark Side.

Vader froze, his already jumbled thoughts reeling with the shock of such contact. Again, he saw and felt Obi Wan, and tried to pull away. Still in the throes of Vader's physical suffering, Ani nearly lost himself again in the storm of overwhelming fear. It was all that he could do not to pull away, fleeing the onslaught, but he forced himself to hold them both steady, bringing every ounce of his Jedi training and discipline to bear in order to tighten his fingers incrementally, giving Vader's arm another squeeze.

Ani felt his own heart racing in response to Vader's fear and knew that his breath was now coming in quick, ragged bursts that echoed the hiss and wheeze of the Sith Lord's breather. Vader's fear was becoming his own through a volatile combination of the empathic abilities that were at the core of his gift in the Force, his own memories of trauma associated with Anakin, and the very real danger that Vader still presented. As wounded and afraid as the Sith Lord might be, he was _still_ a Sith and still phenomenally powerful in the Force. An injured and frightened beast only became a greater threat, and holding him this way, even for a few seconds represented a huge gamble--a gamble that Anakin's humanity could hold the monster that was Darth Vader in check long enough.

"Uncle Anakin," he whispered shakily. "Will _you_ forgive _me?_"

Stunned silence followed the question, but still Ani didn't relase his uncle's arm. Even the sound of Vader's breathing came to a momentary halt. For a moment, his mind continued to whirl. Then Ani sensed his feelings harden, and the chaos within him began to still beneath a re-forming shell of disgust and cold fury.

"Forgive you?" he sneered.

"For ever letting anger come between us," Ani nodded, swaying on his feet in the aftermath of what had just occurred. "For hurting you, even if it was the _last_ thing I wanted to do."

"Look at you," Vader spat as his own fingers tightened roughly on the Jedi's hand. "You can barely stand. Your feelings betray you. They make you weak!"

"What…?"

"Compassion. Forgiveness. Do you think the galaxy cares whether one Jedi stands here mewling for forgiveness from me? Do you think the flow of the Force will ever be bent or turned aside by your _tears?"_

"I--I don't need the galaxy to care--and I have no interest in bending the Force to my will," Ani told him as the shock of Vader's sudden vindictiveness jarred him out of his empathic haze.

"Do you think _I_ care?" demanded the Sith mockingly. "For you _or_ your pathetic need for forgiveness?"

Ani sighed heavily and let his shoulders slump, but there was no shift in his quiet determination as he replied, "You told me once that no matter what else changed, your caring for me would not."

"Anakin Skywalker is _dead!"_ Vader boomed, using his grip on Ani's arm to hurl him to one side. Again, the Jedi didn't resist, spinning violently into the wall.

He slid downward, crouching in a huddled mass on the floor as he tried to stop the room from spinning.

"You will suffer far worse when you meet the Emperor," Vader promised. He took a step backward, then spun toward the door, his cloak swirling around his legs as he moved.

Cradling his right arm, which had been rammed into the wall when he struck it, Ani called after him, "As you have?"

"Yes," Vader replied, and the air crackled with the implied threat.


	187. Quae Captivitas Desperatio

Carefully, Ani inched his way back up the wall, leaning on his arms with fingers splayed to help support his weight. Still keeping a wary eye on the Dark Lord's back, he said, "My father used to believe Anakin was dead too. I never have."

"You should pay closer attention to your Master's lead," scoffed Vader, though he did at least turn to face Ani again.

"My Master doesn't believe that anymore. How could he after what you did for us on Mustafar?" asked Ani quietly.

"What Obi Wan believes is of no consequence to me," Vader replied dismissively.

"All right, Uncle," Ani sighed softly. "But I'll tell you something else. Even if you _had_ died saving me in the temple that night, it wouldn't change anything. Even if my mother had never been injured before I was born and you had never needed to use the Force to keep my heart beating that day, nothing would be any different between us. I would love you exactly as I do right now. I don't love you because you saved my life, or because you spared me in the temple. I'm grateful for those things, and I know that I can never repay you for them, or for saving my daughter's life on Mustafar, but I love _Anakin Skywalker._ Not the Hero With No Fear. I love the man that Anakin really was--the man I still believe you are, somewhere inside. Nothing you ever did made me love you, nothing you have done can make me stop, and even if you could give me the galaxy, it wouldn't matter, because it wouldn't make up for anything--and I _already_ love you. I've already forgiven you."

Again, silence fell as Vader struggled to absorb those words. Ani could feel him vacillating, his feelings wavering from one extreme to another. Flat disbelief was couched in his own self-hatred and buoyed by the lingering and unanswerable question--_why?_ Ani had to be lying, Vader told himself, not simply because everyone else had but because the alternative was unfathomable to him. Ani couldn't possibly have loved him as much as he had without a reason, without having heard time and again that Anakin Skywalker had saved his life. No one had ever loved him this way. Even for Padme, he had been a way off Naboo. He had _done_ something--_made_ her see that he was worth caring for. Obi Wan hadn't loved him at all in the beginning. Anakin had had to prove himself time and again, and he had never _really_ been good enough to please his former Master. Yet Ani had still loved him in the Council Chamber before he'd gone to Palpatine's office. He had nestled in Anakin's arms as they waited there, somehow still drawing comfort and reassurance from him, even knowing that without Palpatine, he wouldn't be able to save the boy's mother. Ani has asked him--_begged him_--not to leave. It hadn't _mattered_ to Ani whether his Uncle Anakin could save Padme or not, and with that realization, desperate hope flared in Vader. That very hope, though, shook him to the core. It brought to light his most crushing failures and left him vulnerable again to all of Anakin's monstrous self-blame.

He had meant to give the galaxy to Ani. With the gift of his mother's life in one hand and an entire galaxy in the other, Anakin had intended to win the boy--to prove that he was the stronger man, the better man, the bigger hero. Now, he began to realize that it had been entirely unnecessary. Believing that Ani was dead, he had continued the mad quest, biding his time until he was again strong enough and sure enough of his own power to destroy Palpatine because by then it was all that was left to him, but the truth was that Ani had been alive. What Ani was telling him now meant that he could have _stopped._ He could have--and he hadn't. So then the question came again. _Why?_

In the end, it was too much for him to accept. Anakin Skywalker had been beaten down too many times by failure--either his own or failure on the part of those he depended upon. He had spent too many years as Palpatine's apprentice, twisted and abused, conditioned to depend on pain and rage as his only remaining avenue to connectedness with the Force. No one had ever suggested to him there remained traces of Force energy within the machines he depended upon to breathe and walk; his own powers of reason were too clouded with pain and the effects of sleep deprivation to have made such a leap, and the Emperor would have taken advantage of that in the days directly following the fall of the Jedi Order to keep him from ever regaining real use of the training that he had received as a Jedi. That forced him to depend upon Palpatine's Sith teachings if he was ever to command the Force again--and his body worked so poorly that without the ability to call on the Force, Vader had difficulty functioning with any modicum of physical independence.

He retreated onto ground he knew, and Ani held back a sigh. He sensed the pendulum of Vader's feelings make its final swing from hope to fear and sadly closed his eyes. He knew enough, though, to realize that after so long as Darth Vader, his uncle would not easily accept the possibility of another option--nor would he readily believe that anyone who knew him before could still hold him in such high regard.

"There _is_ hate in you," he said. "I still sense it. You blame the Emperor for all that he has destroyed. All that he has taken from you," Vader observed.

"So does the entire galaxy. That doesn't make me unique, and it doesn't mean I intend to face him from a place of anger," Ani replied calmly.

"Obi Wan's training will not be enough. Only the power of the Dark Side can give you what you most desire," Vader told him, then turned for the last time and banged the door with his knuckles.

"What I want is to see Anakin Skywalker free of his prison," Ani said.

"What you want," Vader countered as the door slid open. "Is revenge."

The statement struck Ani like a fist in the gut. Vader swept out of the room as the Jedi's breath burst from his lungs. He crumpled to the floor again and stayed there, overcome by a wave of disgust, physically shaking. Hot bile rose into the back of his throat, and he swallowed hard to force it down again, but he knew that he couldn't deny what Vader sensed in him.

Despite all that he had learned on Dagobah, despite all that he had seen and gained as a Jedi, his feelings toward Palpatine had not changed. He wasn't sure they _had_ to anymore, but it genuinely frightened him how easily Vader could feel it--how willing he was to use it.

_I will not take revenge,_ Ani Kenobi told himself again. _I will not live in hate and fear. I am a Jedi, like my father before me._

The thought steadied him enough to let him draw on the Force. The trembling passed, the nausea faded, and he closed his eyes, quieting his mind. After a few minutes, he reached outward through the ever-present current, toward the one mind that he could find anywhere--reach through any distance.

_Father. Hear me._Obi Wan's touch was rich with compassion and shared anguish. The same touch he had felt in the aftermath of the temple massacre. Then, he felt the Padme there as well, the twins, even his young sons, all moving to bolster Obi Wan in the Force. In the same instant, he felt their anguish and fear for the others who had been taken by Vader and his own heart constricted.

Anakin,

_Isaly,_ he thought desperately, and the link with his family threatened to disintegrate in the wave of panic that rolled over him.

_Where are you, son?_ Obi Wan asked quickly, drawing his focus back to the immediate needs of a rescue operation.

_I--I'm on the Executor,_ he replied, I'm sorry.

_Are you all right?_

_I will be. You'll have to go after Isaly and the children, Dad. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, but I don't know where he's holding them or if I'll be able to get to them. I don't think they're on the ship,_ Ani told him, grimacing as a bead of sweat formed on his temple and rolled slowly down the side of his face.

_We'll see to them, Ani. You be careful,_ Obi Wan advised. His mental voice was thinning. Even with the rest of the family to help him, it was difficult to maintain this sort of Force-contact over such distance. The words became urgent as he continued, _Get away if you can. Don't underestimate Vader, Anakin._

He won't kill me.

Ani, listen to me. Be careful. Be careful of Vader. Be careful of your feelings.

I won't fail you, Master.

No, son. Don't fail yourself.

Ani ducked his chin to his chest, a faint smile flickering over his lips. _I won't._

The contact faded. Ani rolled to his knees and then pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the continued pain in his shoulder. Cradling the arm, he made his way back to the bunk and lowered himself onto it. Several moments passed before he found the energy to pull his legs up onto it. Then he leaned back, closing his eyes, but he knew that if sleep came at all, it would not be for some time.

Slowly, painstakingly and with grueling fearlessness, he turned over the encounter that he had just endured. More than once, he cringed inwardly and had to fight the urge to shy away from the reflection of Vader's mind that he found in his memories. From the very beginning, though, he thought he could make out glimpses of Anakin Skywalker.

He had felt remorse _both_ times that he had introduced Ani's head to a wall, whether he wanted to admit it or not. It was there in the defensive admonition he'd flung at Ani early on. _You should have tried to stop yourself!_ That was not the sneering, derisive voice of the Dark Lord. Nor was it Vader who demanded, _Do you think_ I _care…?_ That was the desperate bravado of Anakin Skywalker, both trying frantically to wound Ani into retreat and imploring him to believe just that--because as long as Ani believed it, he would stay.

Of course, Vader's own loneliness frightened him as much as it ate at him. Like compassion and forgiveness, the need for others--the need to belong, to be part of a group--was seen as a weakness by the Sith. Dominating others was one thing. Needing them? That was purely unthinkable. Except that Anakin Skywalker always had. He hungered insatiably for approval, which he could never find in himself, and he was terrified beyond comprehension of abandonment--of finding himself alone.

Beyond that though, Anakin Skywalker cared--deeply and passionately for everyone around him. He could never have been wounded so severely, either by actions or his own perceptions of them, if he had not cared. He _loved._ He loved enough to defy orders, time and again, to rescue Obi Wan; enough to keep a baby's heart beating in order to spare its parents the pain of loss. He cared enough to save Ani Kenobi from Darth Sidious _and_ from Darth Vader.

"Yes, Uncle," Ani smirked. "As a matter of fact, I do think you care."


	188. Revolution

Once Isaly had determined that there was no immediate means of escape, she extended one of the cots in their cell, sat down on the side of it, and gathered Shmi and Jareth there with her, wrapping an arm around each of them. The kids were exhausted from the ordeal that they had been through and quickly fell silent, resting their heads on Isaly's chest. She hoped that they might drop off to sleep, but as tired as they were, neither of them were initially inclined to sleep.

She felt as drained and weary as they seemed to, and with the immediate crisis behind them, adrenaline was fading from her bloodstream. Letting her eyelids droop, she simply remained where she was, taking comfort in the rhythm of the children's breathing as it rose and fell in time with her own. At first, she was too tired even to muster the fear for her husband that she knew should have been pounding along her nerves. Then, slowly the panic began to assert itself. It started as a throb in her brain that hammered outward to her temples, then became a wail that lodged itself in her throat and tried to claw its way out while she fought it down. Pressing her eyes closed tightly against the threat of tears, she tried to imagine what Padme would have done in this situation.

Surely, her mother-in-law had faced similar fears during the Clone Wars. She had heard many stories in which Obi Wan's whereabouts were unknown or his life was in danger. Most of the time, Anakin was either with him or managed to join him before the threat was over. More often than not, rumors about the fate of Kenobi and Skywalker reached the Core Worlds long before any credible report did, much less a personal message from either of them. Padme had never allowed her anxiety for him to overwhelm her. Even after Beru and Owen were killed, with Leia a prisoner of the Empire and the boys off trying to deliver the Death Star plans to Alderaan, Padme had pushed grief and worry to the back of her mind and led Isaly and Shmi to Mos Espa. She'd kept them all together and shepherded them from Watto's to Yavin 4. True, Isaly had not collapsed in fright during those harrowing days, but events had all moved so rapidly that there really hadn't been time to be afraid. Her children had been in imminent and pressing danger. The family had been on the move almost non-stop, and there was usually someone with her--either Padme or Watto, then later Pooja and Bail. Besides that, it wasn't until the boys and Leia reached Massassi Station that she understood what kind of danger her husband was in.

Now she had the memory of what Vader had done to him last time, the pressing weight of a threat to the kids that she could find no way of averting, and nowhere to run. How had Padme always kept herself and her fears in check while Obi Wan was gone in the war? She wasn't a simple junk dealer's assistant and farmer the way that Isaly was; she had been Queen and then Senator of the Chommel Sector. Yet she had still been a wife and mother, and she had consistently been able to balance those roles. She had pushed on, keeping her duties and her work at the forefront of her mind so that the chill of dread and worry remained confined the dark corners of her consciousness. Even knowing those things, Isaly found it hard to imagine what Padme might do if she was here. Panicking was not an option, nor was dissolving into tears, but trapped in a cell like this, what could she do with herself? She wanted to pace, but she realized that doing so would only agitate the children. Her first duty was to them.

"Is anybody hurt?" she asked at last, dragging herself forcibly out of her stupor. Neither Shmi nor Jareth had seemed to be in pain, but that didn't necessarily mean they hadn't been injured in all the running around. Sometimes it wasn't until after a crisis when survival instincts and adrenaline rushes began to give way to weariness that one actually _felt_ the pain of a wound. If she'd been thinking more clearly, she would have realized that earlier and checked both of them over.

Shmi immediately shook her head, but Jareth looked up and frowned as if in confusion. Isaly cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting. He pursed his lips and tilted his head to one side, his frown deepening.

"I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"My head hurts a little, and I have this funny pain in my side, but I think it's Master Ani that's hurt," he explained.

Isaly nodded drew in a thoughtful breath. Then she shifted the kids off of her chest and got to her feet in front of the cot. Kneeling, she held up two fingers and asked Jareth how many he saw. He repeated the right number, so she instructed him to follow the motion of her index finger with his eyes. She would have preferred more light in the room, but as nearly as she could tell, he had no difficulty tracking the movement. Once she was satisfied that he hadn't sustained a concussion, she told him to lift up his shirt and carefully felt around his chest and torso for injuries. Again, there didn't seem to be any, and she blew out a soft sigh that was both relieved and frustrated. She was glad that there didn't appear to be any physical problem, but she had no idea what, if anything, could be done to alleviate empathic Jedi-pains.

Suddenly, Shmi, who was staring at Jareth's exposed side, let out a soft snicker. Jareth turned a glare on her. "What?"

"You have stripes," she observed, giving his side a curious poke.

"So?" he smacked her hand away. "Don't _poke_ me!"

"But why do you have stripes?" she asked.

"I just _do!_" he huffed. "Why are you so nosey?"

"I just _am!"_ Shmi retorted snottily.

Isaly stood up, pressing her lips together to stifle her laughter. She cleared her throat to give herself time to regain her composure and then said, "Little One, cats who have stripes also have them on their skin. The coloring comes from a skin pigment. It's the same thing for Jareth."

"But why--?" she started to ask something else, but the question died unspoken as the door hissed open again.

Isaly sucked in a sharp breath, expecting to see Vader as she turned toward the sound. Instead, she found a stormtrooper incongruously carrying a tray of food and drinks. He walked inside and extended the other cot, then set the tray down on it and turned back to face them with his hands on his hips. His head swiveled toward Jareth, who was hurriedly yanking his shirt back down.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," the boy answered shortly.

The armored soldier looked at Isaly. "What's wrong with him?"

"You mean besides the fact that he's in a cell?" she quipped.

"My company medic's rather overworked at the moment, but if he needs medical attention, I want to hear about it," the trooper's voice crackled through his helmet.

"Oh, really?" Isaly crossed her arms.

"Unless you'd rather let him suffer," he replied.

"I didn't know the Empire cared whether Rebel prisoners suffered."

"That's not a Rebel, it's a kid," scoffed the stormtrooper.

"I _am_ a Rebel!" Jareth jumped to his feet.

"We both are," confirmed Shmi.

Their adversary shook his head in obvious disgust. He made no reply to the kids, but to Isaly he said fiercely, "You Rebel scum deserve whatever Lord Vader does to you just for bringing these kids into the middle of a battle zone."

"Maybe if _Lord_ Vader and you clowns hadn't burned down our homes we woulda had someplace else to go!" Jareth hissed at him, hair standing on end. Isaly was momentarily taken aback by the intensity of the boy's outburst. She knew that he had been through a great deal since meeting up with the Kenobis, but she had never seen him so overtly angry. Usually, he was much more like Ani--quiet and laid back, keeping his deeper emotions largely to himself. Shmi stepped closer to him and threaded her arm through his, linking fingers with him as she glared at their faceless armored foe.

The stormtrooper looked back at them for a long, silent moment, and shook his head again. Then he asked Isaly, "Are you going to tell me what the problem is?"

Isaly sighed and shook her head. "There's nothing physically wrong with him that I can find."

"Are you a healer?" he asked.

"No, but I've worked with and studied under them," she replied honestly. "I could probably be a field medic now, but I have no official rank or formal training."

He tilted his chin upward, considering this, and seemed on the verge of saying something. After a moment, he nodded in curt acceptance of her statement, and asked, "How long have you been with the Rebellion?"

"Slightly over three years," Isaly replied, her brow creasing. "Since just before the battle of Yavin. Why?"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "I'm asking the questions. Before that?"

"We moisture farmers," Isaly said without hesitation.

"Moisture farmers?"

"On Tatooine," she nodded.

"That's a long way from here," he observed, and she knew that he wasn't referring to the physical distance.

"Yes, it is," she replied frankly.

"What does Lord Vader want with a bunch of farmers?" he asked with an edge of disbelief in his tone that came through clearly despite the helmet's garbling.

"Why don't you ask Lord Vader?" she challenged.

"I'm asking you."

"I didn't think it was your job to ask questions," Isaly said with an uncaring shrug. She turned toward the food tray and took a few steps toward it, examining the contents critically. Most of it was greasy and fried. It looked like it had come from a concession stand or one of the cheap restaurants attached to the casinos. It didn't much matter to her where it came from at this point. The children were hungry and so was she, though she wouldn't give this Imperial _slime_ the satisfaction of seeing it. She half expected him to reach out and grab her arm. He didn't pull her back, though, merely stood his ground, glaring through his helmet until the hair on her arms stood on end.

_Creep,_ she thought.

"I'll worry about my job. You answer the questions," he told her.

She gritted her teeth on the urge to fire an angry refusal and looked over her shoulder at Shmi and Jareth. "Go ahead and eat. And say thank you to Mr. Stormtrooper here for dinner."

Jareth slunk past Isaly with a half-hearted mutter that was more a growl than a thank you. Isaly expected no more from him and even less from Shmi. Both kids would be well aware that she had no love for these white-clad toy soldiers with their faceless stares and arrogantly self-righteous conviction that the Empire which had forged their elite ranks was beyond reproach. Only about a third to a half of them were clones anymore, but the rest of them might as well have been as far as Isaly was concerned. To her they were all no more than unthinking weapons--extensions of the Emperor's destructive will. Shmi, however, surprised her.

Still holding Jareth's hand, she paused and swiveled around to look at their unlikely benefactor. She bit her lip, glanced at her mother, and then offered a hesitant smile. Isaly's eyebrows rose, then furrowed as her daughter spoke.

"Thank you, Commander Hardy."

"Uh--" he started to say.

Before he could get any further, both kids went stiff and wide-eyed. Jareth's hair stood on end, and Shmi let out a loud wail. _"Daddy!_

Isaly rushed over to them, dropping to her knees. She slipped an arm around each of them, peering anxiously from one pinched, drawn little face to the other. Her mind and heart screamed with fear for Ani, but she clawed back the panic, forcing all of her concentration and energy to remain on the two small bodies which now pressed closer to her for comfort.

"Are you all right?" she asked urgently.

"Yeah--" Shmi nodded, gulping back tears. "He's okay, I think. Uncle didn't hurt him bad--I mean--"

Isaly pressed her eyes closed for a half a second, then looked toward Hardy, who stood watching the scene behind the unreadable mask of his stormtrooper helmet. He looked back at her for a long, silent moment, then headed for the door.

"Moisture farmers," he said as he left.


	189. Tempest Tossed Island

"Dad, we're not going to leave Ani are we?" Luke asked, following his father back into the living room. Leia followed him with Obi-Too in her arms, while Padme and Bail hurried after them.

"Of course not," replied Obi Wan, who was still holding Junior as he lowered himself onto the couch. "We're going to have to split into two groups. Ani said that Isaly and the children aren't being held aboard the Executor. That most likely means that they're somewhere in Cloud City. I don't think he'd want them on another ship."

"I agree," nodded Luke.

"All right. We'll fly in with the Rogues and hold formation with them until they engage the TIE fighters. Then Luke, you take two of your boys and break off toward Bespin. Leia and I will board Vader's ship and find Ani," directed Obi Wan.

"Yes, Master," Leia nodded.

"Wait a minute, _what?!"_ Luke protested.

"What do you mean _what?"_ his father frowned at him.

"Dad, I want to go with you!"

"Luke, you have nothing to prove. Someone has to lead the Cloud City group, and you are the better choice. This is a military operation and the Rogues are a military unit. You're their Commander. They need you. Leia is my Apprentice; she will accompany me," Obi Wan said firmly.

"But, I--" began Luke

"Commander Kenobi," Obi Wan cut him off, keeping his tone mild but with a subtle hint of authority. "This is not a debate."

"Yes, sir," Luke nodded, automatically reverting to formal address and biting his tongue on the rest of the things that he would have liked to say. The truth was that he knew his father was right on all counts. His place was with Rogue Squadron and Leia's was with her Jedi Master. Despite the guilt that he still felt over Ani's capture and the abduction of Isaly and the kids, he had proven himself as a Jedi now. The encounter with Vader and the choice he had made in the final moments of that duel had changed him irrevocably. That still didn't alter his emotional need to rescue his brother or his desire to keep Leia and their father away from Darth Vader. As much as he didn't want to face the Dark Lord again, he wanted to send them up against Vader even less.

It had been difficult enough for him when the family went to rescue Padme and Shmi from Vader on Mustafar. The plan was supposed to have been for them to engage the Sith Lord together. Even after Leia broke away to get inside and find their mother, Obi Wan wasn't supposed to end up fighting Vader alone. Luke hadn't even imagined that his father would be forced to duel with the Sith by himself, and yet the initial minutes of the confrontation were still the stuff of his nightmares. Unlike his brother, however, Luke's dreams were not filled with images of possible futures. They were tormenting flashes of what might have been--the red blade striking down those he loved most--or magnified manifestations of the dread and anguish that all of them had felt from the moment that Vader's summons arrived to the end of the ordeal.

Things were worse now, knowing who Vader really was and understanding the emotional price that his father and brother paid with every confrontation. He didn't want Obi Wan to have to face what was left of Anakin Skywalker again, and if he had to do so, Luke felt that he should stand with him. To do anything else, even something as vital and necessary as rescuing other members of the family, felt wrong to him. That wouldn't stop him from helping Isaly and the kids, of course, but even while leading that aspect of the mission, there would be a part of him that felt as if he should be with his father and sister.

Leia caught his eye briefly, and in that momentary meeting of glances, he both read and felt her understanding. She smiled reassuringly, and he allowed an answering one to touch his own lips, glad that she both understood and passed no judgment. It would have been easy for her to be irritated with him over his reaction. She was, after all, almost a Jedi Knight in her own right. Of the two of them, she was the one better equipped to be at Obi Wan's side in a confrontation with a Sith Lord. She didn't like being protected or sheltered by her brothers; in fact, she rarely stood for it at all. Fortunately, though, she understood that his need to be with their father on this mission had nothing to do with whether or not she was equal to the task.

_It will work out. We'll all be where we need to be,_ she assured him silently.  
He gave a faint nod and returned his attention to their father. Discussion continued for another thirty or forty minutes, outlining tactics and scenarios for boarding the _Executor_ and infiltrating the Cloud City. Luke was sure that Artoo would be able to tell him exactly where Isaly and the kids were being held once they were inside the city, but he still wanted a clearer picture of exactly what was going on there and what opposition that they were likely to face. Obi Wan agreed, predicting that Vader would continue to use the stationing of troops in the city as an excuse to remain for as long as he possibly could without arousing the Emperor's suspicions.

"Ani won't make it easy for him," Luke said with grim certainty. "He's always known that Vader would try to turn him."

Padme closed her eyes at this statement, and her mouth became a thin, white line of pain. Obi Wan reached for her hand, and Luke leaned over to rest a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him with dark, haunted eyes that glistened with unshed tears, and her expression sent a hot shaft through his chest.

"He won't succeed, Mom," Leia spoke up before he could.

Padme nodded silently.

Luke swallowed against the tightening of his own throat and offered, "Ani and Isaly talked to me about their plan. All of it. The medical part and…Ani's part. He knows what he has to do, Mother, and he knows what's at stake. If he falls, he loses Uncle Anakin, and he won't do that. He can't."

"It would still behoove all of us to get him out of there as quickly as possible," Bail spoke up quietly.

Leia shifted her gaze to him and they shared a smile as well. Then a chorus of nods travelled around the room, and everyone looked to Obi Wan again. Still keeping Padme's hand in his, he frowned pensively and began to speak.

"Ani should be able to sense us once we board the ship, which may be of some help, but Vader will know we are there as well, and he will be expecting us. We're going to need to locate Ani quickly and stay on the move if we're to avoid whatever welcoming committee he has planned for us," he said.

"It's too bad that Artoo can't be in two places at once," Luke remarked jokingly.

"We can help, Uncle Luke!" Junior piped up, suddenly straightening from his position of semi-slumber with his head nestled against Obi Wan's chest.

"You can?" Luke frowned. "What do you mean, Junior?"

"Lotsa R2 parts in our room," Obi-Too explained, though his head remained comfortably on Leia's shoulder. "We build G'apa a new droid."

Luke grinned. Obi Wan smiled and nodded in approval. "I think that's a perfect solution," he said. There were, of course, plenty of fully functional R2 units available to him, but that wasn't exactly the problem to which this particular solution applied. Luke wasn't sure if the boys could actually finish an R2 unit by the time that Wedge and Hobbie were debriefed and the rescue party left. He was less sure if the droid would really be up to a mission like this. Threepio, for all his annoying qualities, was more than capable of performing his duties, but Anakin Skywalker had been several years older than Obi-Too and Junior when he built the protocol droid. It didn't matter, though. The twins needed to feel that they were contributing to the family's rescue effort, and more simply, they needed something to _do_ that would get their minds off the threat to their parents and sister. If the droid had to be switched out en route, there were ways to do so, and they would never know.

"We start now," Junior said decisively, scrambling out of his grandfather's lap. Obi-Too was a bit slower to follow than usual, but he was up and heading for bedroom by the time his brother had reached the doorway.

"All right," Obi Wan said, a trace of a smile still on his lips as he turned back to his son. "Luke, have your squadron on standby alert. We'll launch as soon the recon team has been debriefed."

"Yes, sir," Luke acknowledged, then headed briskly for the door.

* * *

Bail departed shortly after Luke did, saying he was supposed to meet with Mon that evening. Leia stayed a while longer, but Padme finally induced her to go back to her own rooms and lie down for a while. She and Obi Wan watched their daughter leave but didn't rise from the couch. Sighing softly, Padme slid closer to her husband and settled her head on his chest where their grandson had been resting a short time ago. Obi Wan gently released her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulders.

"She hasn't been sleeping well," she murmured.

"I know," he nodded. "Has there been any word from Chewie and Calrissian?"

"Not yet," she shook her head.

Obi Wan sighed sorrowfully. "We've got to get Han back."

"We will, my love. One rescue at a time," she assured him.

"You should have been a Jedi, Padme," he chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the top of her hair.

In response, she nestled closer and slid her arm around him.

He didn't speak for a moment or two, then asked quietly, "Darling, are you all right?"

"No," she admitted. "I won't be until this is over and everyone is safe. I always knew that Ani would…have to do something to try and help Anakin. I guess I just didn't really want to think about what that meant."

"I know," he said with soft understanding. "Mace told me a long time ago that their destinies were somehow tied together. The two of them, and Palpatine. It's been in the back of my mind since he was a boy."

"That's why you wanted to send him to Yoda, wasn't it?" she looked up at him, her chest tightening with a sudden, unwelcome understanding. "You felt that you had failed with Anakin and you were afraid that whatever Mace saw would lead Ani down the same path he chose."

Obi Wan looked back at her, not speaking, then slowly lowered his gaze in acknowledgement. "That was part of it, yes."

"Well, you were wrong," she said, moving her hand to his cheek. "You did not fail in your duty as Anakin's Master or as his friend. And Luke is right. Our son will not fall. Now your job is to bring them home, Obi Wan. All of them."

"I will," he vowed, raising his eyes to hold hers again. "I promise you."


	190. A Ship Without A Name

Ani was awake when Vader returned. He had slept some but spent most of the night in deep meditation, preparing for the next encounter and channeling the Force toward the healing of what he thought was a separated shoulder and a mild concussion. He opened his eyes and looked up slowly as the Dark Lord approached him, but he didn't' alter his meditative posture, remaining crosslegged on the center of the cot. His head spun and the persistent nausea increased, but he held his expression as unmoving as the rest of his body.

Vader clasped his hands behind his back and breathed at him, saying nothing. Ani wasn't quite sure whether that was supposed to be a greeting or an attempt at intimidation. After some consideration, he decided that his Uncle probably didn't quite know the difference anymore.

"Good morning," he said finally. "Did you sleep?"

"Irrelevant," Vader snapped.

"Can I ask you where my family is?" Ani inquired hopefully.

"You will not be able to help them," Vader replied with cold assurance.

"Have they been harmed?"

"Not for the moment."

Ani clenched his teeth. "They are no threat to you, Uncle. Let them go."

"The Emperor has other plans for them," said Vader dismissively.

"You protected me from the Emperor once," Ani reminded him.

"I will not do so this time," Vader replied.

"I'm not asking you to. My wife is a non-combatant. She has no military training, and she is not Force sensitive. Shmi and Jareth are hardly any older than I was at the end of the Clone Wars. Where is the honor in turning them over to Palpatine?"

"Like all of your kin, you confuse honor with weakness," Vader shot at him.

"You know what he will do to them. To Shmi. Will you be able to watch that, Uncle Anakin?"

"Yes."

Ani resisted the urge to rub his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He didn't believe that Vader meant what he was saying, but he knew better than to argue the point. That was probably exactly what the Sith Lord wanted, but Ani held his focus, bringing the discussion forward by following Vader's own statement to its logical and inevitable conclusion. "If that is true, then everything that you have done has been for nothing. You turned in order to save me and my mother. In the end, you will destroy me, my mother, and my daughter."

"You are the one who brought them here, Anakin. Do not blame me for a fate that you have caused them," Vader told him uncaringly.

Ani winced. He knew that Vader's words were meant to deflect responsibility for his own wrongdoings. They were spoken with malice, intentionally cruel, but wasn't there a grain of truth in them? He hadn't been the one who brought Shmi to Bespin, but whose decision had it been to allow her to stay with Han and Leia in the first place? Isaly was accountable for her own choices, and he didn't think that he would have been able to stop her from accompanying him no matter how hard he argued, but Jareth was his responsibility and no one else's.

"Their fate has not been decided, Uncle Anakin. Let them go, and I will remain with you," Ani offered.

"Will you?" Vader sneered.

"Come on, Uncle. You had to know I would say that," Ani pointed out.

"I did not expect a _Jedi_ to be so quick to surrender," Vader told him.

"One surrenders to an enemy, Uncle. You have never been my enemy, and there is no battle to be won between us," Ani replied.

"Your attachment to your family clouds your judgment. Your love for them makes you weak," pronounced Vader.

"You are part of my family. I'm trying to help them without having to take up a sword against you again," said Ani softly. "I want to help you, Uncle."

"I told you, I have no need of your help!" Vader snapped.

"Then why are we having this conversation?" asked Ani.

"If you persist in this foolishness, we will not be _having_ further conversation," Vader threatened. "Would you rather discuss your destiny with the Emperor?"

"What is my destiny?" Ani responded mildly.

"To rule at my side. Or to die."  
"I prefer option three."

"There is no more time for bandying words," Vader insisted. "I cannot delay our departure for Coruscant much longer."

"I have a hard time imagining that the mighty Darth Vader truly wishes to share the seat of galactic power with an apprentice," Ani said, narrowing his eyes at the Sith as he shifted his tactics.

"With our combined power, Anakin, we could destroy the Emperor!" Vader declared.

Ani gently lifted an eyebrow. "So, you need my help."

Vader's breather rasped sharply as he drew in a breath to reply, and he raised his index finger in rebuke, but then there was strange hiss and stutter. The familiar co-burgh became more of a co-sigh, and the Dark Lord dropped his hand.

"Nevermind!" he growled. "Since you refuse to see reason, I will leave you to the Emperor."

Ani closed his eyes in a gesture of acceptance and said nothing. Vader whirled away from him and headed for the door. The young Jedi kept his gaze on the swishing black cloak and said nothing until he had reached it and was on the verge of knocking.

Then he called, "I know why you haven't done it already, Uncle."

Vader half turned to look at him again, asking mockingly, "Do you?"

"Yes," Ani nodded. "It's the suit."

"What?"

"Palpatine needed some way to keep you on a leash," Ani said with a slight shrug. "You were already stronger than he was, and your power was still growing. When he stuffed you in that walking prison, he gained a way to control your body and your access to the Force. Otherwise, you would already have overthrown him."

"Perhaps," acknowledged Vader.

"There's another way, Uncle."

"I have no need of another way," Vader insisted.

"So you'd rather be dependent on me? You trust me enough for that?"

"I can keep you on a leash short enough for that," Vader corrected.

The words slashed at the Jedi's already raw core of emotion, but he maintained his composure. "Why go to that trouble when you don't have to?"

"What are you proposing?" Vader asked, warily completing the turn he'd begun and edging back toward Ani.

"You don't need Sith techniques to touch the Force. Your body doesn't have to be in your way, Uncle. You saw what I did in the freezing chamber; you know it's possible."

"It's not that simple," Vader waved a hand in dismissal.

"Why not?"

Vader hesitated for half a beat, then he shook his head. "This is foolish. If you will not turn, then the Emperor will be more than happy to dispense your destiny."

"Why not, Uncle?" Ani repeated, allowing a touch of urgency to color the question. "Is it because you're in pain? Because you've lost the moving meditation and the pain you constantly endure disrupts your concentration? There is a way around that too."

"Impossible!"

"That's what Palpatine has told you. But you already know that he is your enemy. You can't trust his teachings. You can't trust anything he tells you. He doesn't want you to be free of that suit. Without it, he can't stop you," Ani reasoned. He uncrossed his legs and slid to the edge of the cot, leaning toward Vader as he spoke. "I'm not saying it will be easy, but you can learn what I've learned."

"What do you know of pain, boy?" Vader jeered.

"Not as much as you," Ani said smoothly, taking great care to mask his surprise. He had learned as much as an outsider could about the beliefs of the Sith Order from his ghostly allies, and he hadn't expected even this much of a concession from the Dark Lord. Vader would probably never admit to _feeling_ pain. To do so was a weakness as great in the mind of a Sith as feelings like love and compassion. The power of the Dark Side flowed from hate and aggression; love and compassion for others dampened those feelings and consequently weakened one's ability to command the Dark Side. Sith philosophy mandated that such emotions be eradicated, and the goal every Sith was to peel away every shred of them until nothing remained but coursing, molten hatred through which the Dark Side could flow. People were possessions. They were to be controlled and dominated, or if that was not possible, they were to be destroyed. Suffering was tool that could be used to feed anger, and thus pain was to be embraced as an ally rather than alleviated. That did not change the limitations of a mortal body; even one buffered by the Force or enhanced by powerful prostheses. It did nothing to alter the damage that prolonged physical, mental, or emotional distress caused to the psyche of a Sith adherent. Sith teaching couldn't prevent the basic, instinct-level visceral reaction that the torment triggered, and it fact, it didn't aim to do so. The goal of a Sith was to actively cultivate—to _grow_—the fury, the bitter resentment, the hatred of all responsible and direct it through the Dark Side of the Force into an ultimate victory over ones enemies. To do this was the core of what it meant to be a Sith, and so for Vader to harbor bitterness and rage over what he had endured since the Clone Wars was perfectly acceptable. However, for him to actually _complain_ about the agony caused by simple activities like walking from place to place would be to admit that pain was an adversary rather than a welcome aide. It would shatter the philosophical framework which had allowed him to function and feel the Force, and he wasn't ready to sacrifice the worldview that had enabled the charred hunk of flesh that had once been Anakin Skywalker to walk the galaxy as the fearsome and powerful Darth Vader. Asking Ani what he _knew_ about pain was likely to be as close as he would come to saying that pain affected him in any detrimental way or even admitting that it _hurt._

"And yet you propose to teach me," Vader said skeptically.

"I know how to shut it off, Uncle. At least temporarily, and without compromising your sense of touch or motor coordination," Ani said.

"And the price of such knowledge?" demanded Vader.

A sad smile curved Ani's lips. This had been the one point of the plan that he and Isaly had never been able to resolve. All their Force knowledge and medical expertise would do no good if Ani couldn't find a way to make Vader trust him. The truth was that there was no price attached to what he was offering. His deepest yearning was to have his uncle back, but that would take far more time than he would have here. Either Obi Wan and Luke would come for him or he would be forced to find his own means of escape in order to avoid a trip to Coruscant, but at the very least he could do something to alleviate Anakin's constant struggle against his own body. He knew, however, that Vader would never accept the notion that Ani would give him anything without a thought of reward or repayment.

"Free my family. All of them, including Jareth, and let my father take them back to the Fleet," he said.

There was a long pause in which he stared at the black mask, barely breathing. Silently, he willed the man behind it to see reason, to remember for a single moment, what he had once been. Then he went cold as Vader spoke.

"So be it. But you will remain my prisoner."


	191. Liberatio Spearmus

Hardy returned early with breakfast, which was more of the same fare from the previous night. Isaly was awake and waiting for him. The kids were asleep on the cots but both stirred when the door opened. Light from the hallway spilled inside briefly, before the formidable shape of the stormtrooper blocked it. He strode inside and extended the third cot, then set the food on it and looked at Isaly.

"Lord Vader has decided to garrison Cloud City, and he's personally overseeing the arrival of the troops. You'll be here for a while," he said.

"So, I don't suppose we could upgrade to better accommodations," Isaly replied.

"Sorry, I don't have that authority," he shook his head ironically.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Doing what?"

"Talking to prisoners. Bringing us meals yourself?" she gestured at the tray as the kids tumbled sleepily out of bed and ambled over to eat it. "I'd guess the Empire doesn't know it's paying for us to eat out."

"What would make you think that?" he challenged.

"From what I'm told, the standard fare for Imperial prisoners in transit is water and stale ration bars," she said.

"Uncle tell you that?" he asked mockingly.

"No, my sister-in-law did," Isaly replied frankly. "She was his prisoner aboard the Death Star."

"Yeah, then what happened?" he wanted to know.

"My father-in-law, my husband, and his younger brother all went and got her back," Isaly explained with a hint of smugness.

He responded to the veiled threat with disdain. "All by themselves, huh? Well, they're either brave or crazy. And don't worry; there won't be a repeat performance this time."

"They found a little help along the way," Isaly shook her head. "And I'm sorry to tell you, I don't think you're quite Vader's equal in battle and they managed to get through him."

"Well, I have something Lord Vader didn't," Hardy replied, moving closer. He stopped directly in front of her and fixed his faceless, helmeted stare on her.

Isaly tilted her head to glare up at him. "And what would that be?"

"The fear of Lord Vader to motivate me," he quipped.

Isaly almost laughed. She would have if she hadn't been entirely too conscious of her own fear of Vader and the price that the Kenobis had paid for their victory over him on the Death Star. Hardy _would_ be punished when her family came for her. In fact, he might even be killed, and the thought left a sudden, cold knot in the pit of her stomach. Serving the Empire was his choice, and the consequences of his allegiance to a tyrant couldn't be helped, but he _wasn't_ equipped to hold prisoners against three Jedi, especially when the prisoners would be doing everything in their power to aid the rescue party. He still didn't deserve to die for that.

She stepped back, giving her head a small shake. She had wanted to think of him as "the stormtrooper--" an anonymous suit of armor which had no mind, no heart, no humanity, much the way that she had tried to think of Vader. Unfortunately, Shmi had given him a name, and now Isaly couldn't help but see the man inside the white shell--a man who showed honor in his refusal to shoot a child; who defied the conventions of his military culture to treat prisoners with dignity and respect; and who, if circumstances had been different, might easily have been a friend and comrade to the Kenobis.

There was nothing she could do to change things. Her family _would_ come for her, and she was glad for that. Palpatine was not someone she _ever_ wanted to meet, and she would die before allowing Shmi or Jareth to be brought to Coruscant. She simply wished there was another way. Padme would have told her that there were always choices; if she couldn't readily see an alternative, then her task was to find one. The question was, where?

"You didn't answer my question," she said aloud, stalling for time.

"What question?"

"Why are you doing this?" she repeated.

"I don't like ration bars," he said flippantly.

"Neither do I," Shmi piped up.

"See?" Hardy commented. "She don't like them either. I don't think they're good for kids."

"Neither is the crap we're eating," Jareth said, though his mouth was stuffed full even as he spoke.

"Hey, it's the best I can do, kid. Live with it," Hardy told him.

"My name ain't _kid!"_ Jareth fired at him.

"I don't care," retorted Hardy.

"Then why do you care whether he eats ration bars?" Isaly demanded.

"What, do you want me to take that away and go _get_ some ration bars?" he asked hotly, waving his arm at the kids.

"No, I want to know why you'll disobey orders to bring food to children because you think _ration bars_ are bad for them, but you'll turn them over to the Emperor!" Isaly cried.

"My job is to make sure you get where you're going. Nobody's gonna know or care if I feed you before you get there. I think the Emperor might _notice_ if you don't show up!" he snapped.

"So, you're a coward."

"I am soldier! I serve my Emperor!"

"Why?"

"Why _what?_"

"Why do you serve him?"

"Because he is the Emperor."

Isaly shook her head. "That's no reason to follow someone."

"He is the rightful ruler of this galaxy," Hardy insisted.

"Says who?" demanded Isaly.

"Me!"

"Oh, really."

"Yes."

"Why?" she persisted.

"What do you mean, _why_?" he asked, planting his hands on his hips in frustration.

"I mean _why_ do you think he is the rightful ruler of the galaxy?" she explained.

"Oh, so you can tell me why I'm wrong," he nodded.

"No, I want to know."

"Why?" he asked smugly.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Shmi complained.

"Shh," Isaly told her, cutting her gaze to the kids to emphasize the directive. Then she looked back at the stormtrooper and said frankly, "Because I don't understand how anyone could really believe that."

"People need someone to maintain order and enforce laws. Otherwise, we'd live in chaos. The Emperor is the only one strong enough to hold a galactic government together," he asserted.

"The Galactic Republic stood for over a thousand generations," Isaly argued.

"It was corrupt. Degenerate."

"Parts of it, maybe," she allowed with a nod. "But it could have been reformed. My mother-in-law and others like her were trying to do that throughout the Clone Wars. They believed that people need a government that hears and understands their needs. They need the freedom to make their own laws and to change the laws _and_ the lawmakers when those things no longer serve the public."

"Then you have no stability. People can't live like that!" he shook his head vigorously.

"Stability comes from adherence to the fundamental tenets of a written constitution and the process by which that constitution is amended or additional laws enacted, not the will and whim of a despotic monarch," Isaly countered.

"Not when you have squabbling Senators who care more for their own power than governing the people. Why do you think the Clone Wars dragged on so long?" he demanded.

"Because your Emperor manipulated the entire thing as a means of gaining _control_," responded Isaly, struggling to keep from shouting.

"That's a Rebel lie!" Harded declared furiously.

"No, it isn't," Isaly shook her head. "My mother-in-law led a delagation--"

"Your mother-in-law got around quite a lot for a moisture farmer from Tatooine," he interrupted.

Isaly imagined him smirking haughtily behind his helmet and forcibly quelled the urge to smack the expression off of his face. Firmly reminding herself that all she would accomplish by hitting him would be to hurt her hand, she said, "I wasn't lying. After the war, my husband's parents took him and his siblings away from Coruscant. They wanted to raise their children somewhere safe, away from the fighting, away from Vader and the Emperor."

"The only reason Coruscant wasn't safe was because they were traitors," Hardy said.

"That isn't true," Isaly replied, surprising herself with her own calm in the face of such an accusation. She was _tired_ of hearing that word used in reference to Obi Wan and Padme, but rather than the boiling fury that she expected, her anger became frigid, an icy wind that both chilled and invigorated her.

"Yes, it is. I know who you are now, _Kenobi_. Your father-in-law is a Jedi wanted for crimes against the Empire. That's why he hid in the desert for so long, and that's why you're here now," Hardy said.

"Obi Wan is no traitor. He is a brave and honorable man who believed in the ideals of the Republic that he had been raised to serve. He opposed the New Order because it violated the principles of law and democracy that he had dedicated his life to upholding. He hid on Tatooine because he had young children who would have been kidnapped and horribly abused by the Emperor--"

"No--"

"What do you think he's going to do with Shmi and Jareth if he gets his hands on them, Hardy? He'll twist and abuse them until they grow up to be just like Vader--worse than Vader," Isaly asserted. "That's what he wanted to do to my husband, why his parents fled."

"If that's true, why is Vader helping him?" questioned Hardy. "Why isn't he protecting his family?"

"Does Vader strike you as particularly sane?" Isaly asked.

The helmet speaker crackled as Hardy drew in a breath to answer. Then it whooshed as he exhaled again. The stormtrooper shook his head. "No, I guess he doesn't."

"He was a good man once. He was my husband's childhood hero, and Ani loved him as a second father. The Emperor deceived him. He lied to everyone, but by the time Obi Wan realized it, it was already too late for him to save his brother. That's what Ani is trying to do now. That's why we're here," Isaly said, desperately holding her voice steady even as her vision swam with hot tears.

"Looks to me like Ani's the one who needs saving," Hardy remarked. "He's the prisoner up there."

"You think that suit isn't a prison for Vader?" Isaly asked. "How would you like it if you couldn't take that stupid helmet off when your shift ended?"

"I wouldn't," Hardy admitted with surprising candor. "I never thought about it that way. He's just--Lord Vader."

"Ani's only crime is his ability to see the man inside the armor. If the Emperor has his way, the punishment for that will be death. Probably after he's forced to watch me die. And who knows what Palpatine will do to these children," Isaly said.

"I'm…sorry," the stormtrooper replied, the word exploding from his mouthpiece after an arduous pause.

"Don't be sorry, Hardy," Isaly urged. "Help me."

Shmi and Jareth drifted to either side of her as she spoke, looking on with troubled but hopeful expressions. Shmi raised one hand in an apparently casual gesture that Isaly recognized easily. Gently, she laid her hand on her daughter's shoulder. The girl gave her a startled, uncertain look but allowed her hand to fall back to her side.

"Are you crazy?!" Hardy exclaimed.

"No. Are you?" challenged Isaly.

"I'd have to be crazy to let you out of here. Do you know what Vader would do to me?"

"Then come with us," she offered.

"I can't do that."

"But you can serve an Empire that preys on children," Isaly said flatly.

"Look, it's not that simple!" he protested.

"It is for these kids," Isaly replied. "You hand them over and you'll have to live with it for the rest of your life. Can you do that?"

"I'm a _soldier._"

"You're an honorable man, Hardy. Like my father-in-law. He was a solider too. You don't believe what you're being ordered to do is right or we wouldn't be standing here. Soldiers aren't robots. They have minds and hearts, and they can decide when an order isn't just," Isaly said, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

"Forget it," he shook his head, backing toward the door. He reached it in a few strides and pressed the release button. Then he turned and slid into the hall."

"Hardy!" Isaly yelled after him.

"Dinner's at eight," he said, not stopping as the door hissed closed in his wake.


	192. The Sand Is Running Low

"Why didn't you let me mind trick him?" Shmi demanded as soon as Hardy was gone.

"Because it would have been more useful to have a willing ally with us than an angry stormtrooper chasing us," Isaly sighed in frustration.

"Well, that's gonna do us a lot of good now," Jareth grumbled.

Isaly turned to him in surprise. "We'll get out."

"What is your problem all of the sudden?" demanded Shmi.

"I don't like stormtroopers. I don't like the Empire!" he said hotly.

"None of us do, Jareth," Isaly replied.

"Yeah, well, you all at least have your own family," he shook his head.

Shmi bit her lip uncertainly. It wasn't like Jareth to be so harsh--at least not the Jareth she remembered. Even in the short time that they'd been together again, it was obvious to her that Isaly felt the same way about him that she did for her own kids, but maybe for him that wasn't enough. He _did_ have a mother someplace, and he never would have been taken away from her if Shmi and Padme hadn't crashed practically in his backyard.

"I know," said Isaly, kneeling to be on eye level with him. She slipped her hands onto his shoulders, continuing, "I wish it didn't have to be this way. Sometimes I wish I'd had my own mother with me, too. But the people you were born to aren't the only family you have. Your mom is safe where she is. I promise you, when the war is over, you'll see her again."

"How long is that gonna take?" he asked.

"I don't know," Isaly replied honestly. "Maybe a long time. But Ani and I will be with you until then."

"Me too," Shmi put in.

"If we don't all get shipped off to Palps," Jareth sighed.

"Well, the only solution to that is to get ourselves out of here," Isaly said. She drew him into a quick hug and then briskly stood up again.

"What do we do now, Mommy?" Shmi asked.

"I still don't see a way out of this cell without Hardy. We'll wait for him to come back, and I'll try to talk to him again. If that doesn't work, Shmi, you mind trick him. With the city being garrisoned, there have to be ships coming and going all the time. Have him take us to one of the Landing Platforms. Anyone who sees us with him will assume that he's moving us under orders from Vader. Once we're there, he can get us on a ship and out of here before anyone else realizes what we've done."

"We're taking him with us?" Jareth frowned.

"I don't see another way," Isaly nodded.

"I don't know if I can do it, Mommy," Shmi confessed worriedly. "It's a long way to the Platforms and I have to make him do a lot of stuff he doesn't want to."

"I know it seems like a lot, sweetheart, but you can do it if you believe you can. Remember the story about Grandma using the Force to get herself, Daddy, and Uncle Bail through the guards outside the _Tantive_ at the end of the Clone Wars?"

"But Grandma is bigger than I am!" Shmi protested.

"You're bigger than Master Yoda, and he picked up Luke's X-Wing and floated it across the swamp," Jareth offered.

"He what?" Shmi gaped.

"It sank in the mud," related Jareth. "Luke tried to get it out, but he couldn't do it. He said it was too big. Yoda just picked it right up and put it back on solid ground again. He said Luke failed because he didn't believe it."

It took Shmi a few moments to absorb this information. She'd never actually met the famous Yoda that her family talked about all the time, but her brothers had, and if they were to be believed, the old Jedi was actually _shorter_ than they were. She also wasn't very good at lifting and moving things with the Force the way that Jareth was, but she had never even imagined _him_ being able to pick up a starfighter. They were just about the same size, and if someone that much smaller than they were could lift an X-Wing that was stuck in swamp mud, then why couldn't she make a stormtrooper take them to the Landing Platform? She squared her shoulders and clenched her teeth in determination.

"Okay," she nodded.

"Maybe I can help you," Jareth suggested.

"What do you mean?" Shmi frowned.

He shrugged. "Master Ani says stuff's easier if you work together. So, if we both mind trick him, then it shouldn't be so hard."

Shmi looked at Isaly.

"It's worth a shot," her mother said. "I'm not the Force expert in the family."

"Me either, but I don't have a better idea, so okay," Shmi sighed.

"What do we do with Hardy when he wakes up?" Jareth asked. "Ain't gonna be able to mind trick him forever."

"Well," Isaly said thoughtfully. "If we can find a medkit, I can knock him out and then we can tie him up. If not, we'll just have to tie him up."

"What if he gets loose?" Jareth bit his lip.

"We'll worry about that if it happens," replied Isaly. "That's all we can do. If we have to shoot him, aim for something non-vital."

"But Han said--"

"I don't care," interrupted Isaly. "I'm sorry, but Han is not in charge right now. There's to be no killing unless it's absolutely unavoidable. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mom," Shmi nodded heavily.

"What about Master Ani?" Jareth wanted to know.

"Ani will have to take care of himself," Isaly said firmly.

"What?!" both kids cried in disbelief.

"There's nothing we can do for him," Isaly told them. Shmi could sense how difficult it was for her mother to say that, but she shook her head wildly, refusing to accept the notion that they would leave her father in Vader's grasp.

"NO! I won't leave Daddy here!" she insisted. Han was already gone. How could she leave her father behind on top of that?

"Yes, you will," Isaly's tone was brittle with pain but firm. At the sound of it, Shmi felt her heart begin to whither in her chest. She shook her head again, though this time the gesture was more horrified defeat than refusal.

Jareth wasn't willing to give up so easily. "He is my _Master_!"

"Yes, and you're going to have to put some trust in his abilities," Isaly replied, her resolve unshaken. "There is absolutely nothing that the three of us can do to help him."

"But, Isaly!"

"Listen to me, Jareth. There is nothing I would like more than to be able to help my husband. I don't want to leave my children's father trapped on an Imperial Star Destroyer. But I know Ani, and I know what he is capable of. If we tried to rescue him, we would be making it more difficult for him to escape. It's much easier for a single Jedi to escape alone than it is for him to do so with three other people in tow. You heard what he told me on our way here. He knew this might happen. Our job is to get away so that he doesn't have to worry about saving _us_ on top of helping Anakin and getting himself away again. I guarantee you that Obi Wan and Luke are already on their way here. I want to make their job easier, not harder."

Jareth glared at her for several seconds. Shmi held her breath, more surprised than ever at her friend's behavior, but Isaly remained unmoved. Finally, he muttered something in acquiescence and went back to the cot. Shmi and Isaly followed him over, taking up positions on either side, and Isaly gave a soft sigh.

"That doesn't mean he's going to Coruscant," she said, slipping her arm around the boy's shoulders. "When Luke and Obi Wan get here, they'll make sure that Ani leaves with them. Then we'll all go back to the Fleet."

"And save Han!" Shmi added fiercely.

Isaly smiled. "And we'll save Han."

* * *

Isaly didn't expect the kids to be happy with the idea of leaving Ani. She didn't like it any more than they did, but she knew that whether she liked it or not, her priority in this situation _had_ to be safeguarding Shmi and Jareth. To prevent further disagreements, she spent the morning trying to keep the kids distracted. Both were fond of family-related stories, which were something of a tradition with the Kenobis. Most of the ones she knew were either about Obi Wan and Anakin during the Clone Wars or adventures that Luke, Han, and Leia had experienced since the battle of Yavin. Under the circumstances, none of that seemed entirely appropriate, so after some consideration she hit upon the idea of telling them about the day that she and Ani met. Shmi was more enthusiastic about the tale than Jareth at first. He was of the opinion that there would nothing interesting to hear in a story that revolved around what ultimately became a romantic relationship. Judiciously, Isaly refrained from mentioning how much his reaction reminded her of the things that Luke had mentioned hearing Han say about Padme's journal entries before he found himself sucked into the burgeoning romance between Padme and Obi Wan.

Eventually, he warmed up to the story, won over by the image of his Jedi Master peering into a giant scrap bin in the middle of a junkyard, then tripping over his tongue as he tried to explain what he was doing. Ani's rather less than charming repartee in the shop completed the job of winning him over, and for a while, both kids were giggling and joking with all their cares forgotten. The only break in the joviality came about midday, when the kids inexplicably paused and looked toward the cell door. A few seconds later, Isaly could hear alarms and the distinct sound of running feet in the hallways outside. Tensing, she briefly wondered if the commotion could be the result of a rescue attempt, but it was too early for that. Shmi and Jareth couldn't explain either, so she resumed her story and fairly quickly had her young audience howling with laughter.

She knew that at least part of their amusement was born of the stress they were under, but she decided that a little excessive humor was far better than any of the likely alternatives at the moment. They had gotten quite loud when the cell door suddenly hissed open, and a man with dark brown hair peppered with a touch of premature gray burst inside. He was dressed in a stormtrooper's armor and held a helmet loosely in the crook of two fingers. Wild blue eyes met Isaly's and she jumped to her feet as the kids quickly stifled their laughter.

"Hardy?" she asked, alarmed.

"You said you wanted to help Vader. You're a medic. You gotta know something about burns, right?" he demanded.

"Quite a bit," Isaly nodded, her mouth going dry. "What is it?"

"Accident on the East Platform," he said, immediately turning back toward the door. "Come with me."

"Stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can," Isaly told the kids. She felt an icy calm descend over herself as she followed the stormtrooper out of the cell. Trotting to keep pace with his much longer stride, she raced along the stark white corridor, firing questions at his back. "What kind of accident? How many are hurt? How badly?"

"Guidance system malfunction," Hardy explained, still almost running ahead of her. "Two transport shuttles collided. Two dead, most other injuries are moderate. One of the ships--exploded--there was a man trapped. We had to get the fire under control before we could get to him."

Unconsciously, Isaly clenched her hands into fists as she moved. She could tell from the way his voice roughened and threatened to break at the end of the explanation that the victim was someone he knew--someone he knew well. A stormtrooper's armor provided a good deal of protection from extreme environments. The body glove dispersed the energy of a blaster bolt and insulted the wearer against extremes of temperature. The armor itself could deflect or minimize impact from either shrapnel or weapons' discharge. It could even withstand hard vacuum for limited periods of time, but if Hardy's man had been injured or knocked unconscious by the blast, he might not have been able to adjust the suit's environmental controls. Explosions like this tended to yield incredible amounts of heat, which even a suit in perfect condition could not have withstood indefinitely. If anything had weakened or compromised the armor's integrity, the man inside it would have begun to cook. Second and third degree burns could be treated by bacta, but not until the wounds had been cleaned of foreign material--fabric from the body glove or even melted armor.

"Hardy?" she asked swallowing convulsively in an attempt to control her rising nausea.

"What?" he fired back tersely.

"Why do you need my help?" Normally, she would have neither asked nor cared, but under the present circumstances, the question seemed both relevant and telling. There had to be someone else who could help--medics or healers attached to the Imperial Fleet, if not anyone qualified in the city.

Hardy stopped short, whirling to face her so abruptly that they almost collided. She took a half step back, her breath catching fearfully in her throat at the sight of the wild-animal desperation in the man's face. He grimaced and shook his head furiously.

"You're all I've got."

"But why?" she persisted. "This is important. I need to know what's going on in order to help."

"They're all telling me he's too far gone. It's you or nobody," he spat out.

"Then let's go. We'd better hurry."


	193. A Twist In The Tale

 Jareth stood gape-mouthed in front of the open cell door, watching Isaly disappear up the white hallway with the stormtrooper. After a second or two of hesitation, Shmi moved to his side. She followed her mother's progress until both figures disappeared around a corner, then the kids turned to look at one another. Shmi's brow furrowed, and she poked her head further out into the hall, looking first one way and then the other.

"No one's coming," she announced.

Jareth nodded. "Let's go then."

"She told us to wait here," Shmi reminded him.

"She didn't 'spect him to leave the door open," he pointed out.

"I don't know," she said, biting her lip nervously.

"Whaddaya mean?" his eyebrows rose. After everything that had happened with Vader the last time, he never would have expected hesitation from her.

"Maybe we should do what my mother says," she shrugged.

"You wanna leave your dad on that ship?" he demanded, more harshly than he'd intended.

She shook her head, and a couple of her already loose braids came free from her head, adding to her ragged and disheveled appearance. He could see that she was tired, and his censure brought an unexpectedly desperate quality to her expression. Despite his surprise, it wasn't difficult for him to grasp the reasons for her sudden lack of confidence. She felt guilty over her inability to save Han, and now it seemed safer to let the grown ups handle the rescuing.

"It wasn't your fault what happened to Han," he assured her, squaring his shoulders and trying to stand up taller so that the statement would carry more weight. "We gotta help Ani before Vader does something bad to him too."

"Mommy said he doesn't need help," she argued.

"He's already hurt. It's not gonna be a fair fight," he pointed out.

"But Grandpa and Uncle Luke will come soon!"

"What if they don't get here in time?"

"I don't know…" she sighed worriedly.

"We're closer. We can help him now!" he urged.

"But we're just little!" she protested.

"That ever stop you before?" he planted his hands on his hips.

"But I had Han before!"

"Well, you don't now. You just got me. And I need help to get Master Ani offa that ship," he said expectantly.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"If the accident was on the East Platform, then the other ones gotta have more activity, right?" he began.

She nodded slowly. "More people and supplies to unload with less space."

"So if we can make it to a Landing Platform, probably we can sneak onto a shuttle and hide till it takes off again. Once we get on the _Executor_ we can get back up in the vents like last time," he explained.

"Can you find my dad once we're up there?" she wanted to know.

He nodded firmly.

Shmi thought for so long that he was beginning to think he would have to alone. He wasn't likely to get another chance like this. The stormtrooper had been distracted and upset by the accident. He wouldn't make a mistake like this under normal circumstances, and Jareth doubted that Isaly would be likely to leave them alone a second time. He didn't want to leave Shmi here by herself, and he was sure that he would have a better chance of saving Ani with her help, but he couldn't afford to wait. He was about ready to leave when she gave another, more decisive nod and took his hand. "Stay close to me. If we both stay together and think hard we can make them not see us. I used to do it to my family all the time."

* * *

Obi-Too and Junior couldn't figure out why their uncle seemed so surprised that their droid worked. It wasn't as if they'd had to build her from scratch. All they'd really done was fit together components from the various non-functional R2 units they had already scavenged. They already knew a lot about fixing astromech droids, either from watching Luke and the Rogues do so or from their own efforts to attach a head to a formerly decapitated unit that had fallen into their possession while making the medal for Bail. Figuring out what to _call_ the droid proved more challenging to them than actually building it. Most droids were given IA factory designations according to their series and production line numbers. Usually, owners worked out nicknames that were based on the letters and numbers on their nameplates. A droid that had been cobbled together out of spare parts from three others had no clear designation.

While they were working, the boys took to calling her "Nobody," and by the time that Wedge and Hobbie returned from their recon mission that had been shortened to Nobby. Lacking anything more appropriate to call the droid and short on time, they decided that the name would have to do. They unveiled their creation in the hangar as the rescue teams prepped for departure. Padme and Bail waited with them until the droid was ready, then escorted the diminutive trio to the launch bay where Obi Wan, Luke, and Leia were gathered below a waiting X-Wing with a harried technician. A small crowd had begun to gather as well-wishers came to show support for the rescuers, and that was more disconcerting to the young twins than the familiar, noisy chaos of pilots and techs racing to and fro.

Threepio tottered after them, trying desperately to avoid being plowed into by anyone or anything else as he bemoaned the slowness of his metal body and lectured Nobby about the necessity of taking extra care of Master Obi Wan. Nobby responded with flippant beeps and decidedly rude bursts of static, and she even chittered with amusement when the hapless protocol droid fell behind and clunked into a closing door. Well acquainted with Artoo's quirky antics and attitudes, the boys took this as an indication of success and were thoroughly pleased when they heard their grandfather turning down the tech's offer of a new R2 unit for the mission.

"No, I think we're going to give my grandsons a few more minutes," he was saying as he turned. Then he smiled. "Here they are. See? What have you got for me, boys?"

The boys stepped to either side, nudging the little red droid toward their grandfather. Nobby seemed to experience a moment of hesitation, her head swiveling from side to side as if to ask her creators if they were sure about this, then she rolled forward and beeped a greeting. Obi Wan smiled and said hello, while Luke gaped in astonishment.

"Whatsamatter, Uncle?" frowned Obi-Too.

"I can't believe it works!" Luke said, stooping to give the droid a quick, practiced once over.

"I told you they'd have it ready in time," Leia smirked at him.

"Nobby is not a _it_!" Junior huffed, hovering protectively over his small friend and giving her dome a reassuring pat. "Course you work, Nobby."

"Nobby?" Obi Wan raised a questioning eyebrow.

"That's her name," Obi-Too nodded firmly.

"Her?" Luke and Obi Wan both asked with a comical start of surprise. Artoo, who was already in place inside the X-Wing's droid port, gave a worried "eep!" of his own. Nobby blatted rudely at him in response, igniting a bickering stream of beeps and whistles between the two astromechs.

The boys frowned in consternation, and looked from them to Padme, who appeared to be trying to hide a smile. Leia crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow at her father and brother, but her expression was far from Obi Wan's earlier look of polite inquiry. Bail rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers and sighed quietly.

"What's the matter, Obi Wan?" Padme asked, her lips still twitching as she tried to suppress a smile.

"Not a thing, darling," he said innocently.

"Really?"

"Mm-hm," he nodded.

"Well, one might get the idea that you were a little uneasy about having a girl droid along," Padme persisted.

"I didn't know there _was_ such a thing as a girl droid," replied Obi Wan mildly. "However, having a woman at my back during the battle of Geonosis turned out rather well, if I may be so bold."

"You should have been a politician, my love," Padme smiled.

"I would much rather be married to one," Obi Wan told her as he reached for her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm.

"Lando is rubbing off on him already," Leia remarked.

"This could be dangerous," put in Luke as he straightened from his position on the floor in front of Nobby. He gave their father a faint nod, which seemed to be a tacit approval of Nobby's readiness for flight. Junior shot an annoyed glance in Obi-Too's direction, and the older twin rolled his eyes, puffing out a sigh of exasperation at their uncle's behavior, but they made no further comment. The rest of the group took Luke's gesture as a signal for an end to the momentary levity, and a tense silence settled over them.

After a second, Luke bent to kiss Padme's cheek and then reached down to grasp the twins' shoulders. They straightened at the touch, peering up at him. He smiled and winked at them, then his expression shifted to reflect a strange assurance that was unfamiliar and a little unsettling to the young pair, who had grown used to his much more easygoing and playful manner with them.

"I'll bring your mother and sister home, boys. I promise," he said. Then, releasing them, he turned and scrambled up the ladder and into his cockpit. Obi Wan and Padme watched him go, a strange smile passing between them that the boys couldn't quite decipher even with their empathic gift. They frowned at one another curiously, but before they had puzzled out the exchange, the moment ended, and their grandfather and Aunt Leia were bending to hug them.

"And we'll bring your father," Leia added.

She smoothed her hand over Obi-Too's hair, smiled into his eyes, and gave him a reassuring wink. He returned the smile, unable to resist the special warmth that she held for him. Junior, meanwhile, threw his arms around his grandfather's neck, clinging fiercely as the Jedi Master lifted him into a tight embrace. Then they switched places and repeated the process before shifting both of them into Bail's waiting arms.

"Take care of your grandmother and Uncle Bail, boys," Obi Wan instructed.

"Yes, sir," they chorused, nodding firmly.

"We're counting on you two. Don't forget," Leia added.

"We won't, Auntie," Obi-Too promised.

Obi Wan smiled at the response and quietly unclipped his old Jedi comlink. He slipped the device into Padme's hand, folded her fingers around it and kissed her softly. Then he stepped back, laid a hand lightly on Leia's arm, and the two of them walked off toward the ships waiting in the adjacent bays.

"Come on, Nobby," Obi Wan called, gesturing over his shoulder for the droid, who tootled a farewell to the twins and trailed after the Jedi.

"Leia!" Padme called suddenly.

Her daughter paused, half turning to look back at her, but she only smiled. "Don't worry, Mom. I will."  
The twins frowned again, but the smile that Obi Wan and Bail shared seemed to say that they knew exactly what the two women were talking about. In response, Obi-Too let out another sigh of exasperation, and Junior muttered about grown ups. The Jedi started off again, chuckling to themselves, but the boys could feel a growing sadness under the adults' outward amusement.

"I hate this part," Padme whispered, slipping her hand onto Bail's arm.

"I know," he said sympathetically, shifting Junior so that he could take her hand.

"Oh, I do wish I was going along!" exclaimed Threepio.

"You what?" Junior asked, staring at the golden droid in amazement.

"That red demon of yours is _sure_ to get Artoo into trouble, and who is going to save him!" Threepio moaned.

"Freepio, you're jealous," Obi-Too told him.

"Well! I never!" Threepio huffed.

The boys started to giggle, but broke off as their grandfather turned back to them again, appearing to have forgotten something. "Obi-Wan. Anakin. Remember. Whatever happens, you are brothers. Stay together."


	194. To Shed My Skin

The next time that Vader appeared, he removed Ani's binders without comment then turned and issued a terse command for the Jedi to follow him. Ani did so silently, having already guessed the Dark Lord's intent. He was more worried about his family than himself now that Vader had agreed to his proposal. At least for the time being, he was needed. Vader couldn't do him too much harm if he expected the Jedi to be able to provide the knowledge he sought. Isaly and the children, however, were another matter. Vader had promised to release them when Obi Wan arrived, but Ani had sensed rising fear and distress both from Isaly and the kids for some time now.

He was becoming disoriented by the unchanging environment and constant, steady light in his prison. It was difficult for him to judge time, and he was already unsure of how long he had been aboard the _Executor_. He knew that whatever was going on with his family had been escalating for several hours, and since there had been nothing to indicate an attack under way, he had to conclude that the situation was not the result of anything that Luke and Obi Wan had done to free them. That left either Vader or an escape attempt of their own. He rather expected that from Isaly, so he hesitated to ask Vader for an explanation. The Dark Lord was not especially known for keeping his word to Rebels, and if he didn't _know_ that the Kenobis were loose, Ani didn't want to be the one to tip him off. Still, if Isaly had gotten away, why were they still close enough for Ani to sense them this consistently?

Whether he liked it or not, though, he knew that there was nothing he could do for them now. So, he followed Vader's swishing cape out into the hallway, which was strangely devoid of other occupants. Vader led him on a twisting, turning course down a series of identical passageways, and Ani wondered whether the walk was meant to further confuse his senses or if it was simply a demoralizing tactic. There certainly had to be a shorter route to the turbolift than the roundabout path that the Sith chose. If Ani had been _trying_ to tell where he was, he would have been thoroughly confused, but it didn't matter to him because he wasn't familiar with the layout of the ship to begin with, and he had a fairly good idea where they were going to end up in any case.

He experienced a faint chill as the doors opened. Vader led him into the car without looking back, and Ani followed, doggedly holding the calm composure of a Jedi Knight as flashes of memory bombarded his mind. There was no Jedi symbol emblazoned on the inside of these doors. He forced his gaze to remain steadily locked on the metal seal despite the nausea that crept into his throat. He wished that he could block out the rasp of Vader's breath, which seemed doubly loud in the silent confines of the lift, and with a flash of sudden, ironic insight, he realized that his Uncle probably did too.

"What are you going to tell the Emperor?" he asked, as much for the sake of noise as to satisfy his curiosity.

"Nothing," replied Vader shortly.

"Prisoners generally aren't removed from their cells and allowed to walk about enemy vessels, are they?" he pointed out.

"What I do with my prisoners is my concern, Anakin," Vader declared.

"I'm not sure the Emperor will feel that way if he finds out about this, Uncle," Ani replied.

"He will not find out," Vader said with a cold sort of assurance that sent a chill of understanding along Ani's spine.

The room that he was being held in was still under video, if not audio surveillance. Holocams could be temporarily disabled, but that would be noticed rather quickly. Imperial procedure dictated that a log report should be made of any security malfunction, and sooner or later, such a report might easily trickle back to Palpatine. On top of that, neither Ani nor Vader really knew how long it was going to take for the Sith to master what the Jedi had to teach him, although Ani wasn't being kept in a cell, the cabin wasn't exactly furnished in a manner conducive to guided meditation.

The simplest and most obvious solution would be to conduct the instructive exercises somewhere else. However, that presented its own difficulties since security personnel would be aware that Vader had removed a Rebel prisoner. Under normal circumstances, Ani guessed that what Vader did with prisoners aboard his flagship was entirely up to him. Certainly, no one would dare question the Dark Lord directly. Still, somehow or other, the Emperor might get wind of the occurrence, and judging from the number of times that Palpatine had involved Mara Jade in his attempts to capture or kill Kenobis since the Battle of Yavin, it seemed rather likely to him that old prune-face didn't entirely trust Vader when it came to anyone related to Obi Wan. Certainly, he would be suspicious of any protracted contact between his apprentice and Anakin Kenobi, knowing full well that Ani, more than anyone else, might be able to reach what remained of Skywalker. There would be only one way to make sure that no one leaked this little escapade back to Sidious.

"There must be some other way, Uncle Anakin," he sighed.

"Compassion for strangers is yet another flaw of the Jedi," Vader responded.

"It's not compassion. It's reverence for life," Ani said regretfully. "You would have understood that once."

The lift stopped at the end of the sentence, punctuating it with an odd, cold finality that left a hollow ache in the Jedi's chest. Vader turned his head, staring down at Ani with his empty, immobile mask, a horrid caricature of humanity. The doors slid open, but for a heartbeat, neither man moved.

"Perhaps now you are finally learning that I am not the man you so foolishly believe me to be," Vader said. Then without waiting for a reply, he swept past Ani and continued down another eerily silent corridor.

Ani smirked at the Sith's slowly receding back and pushed himself off the icy metal wall. "It seems I'm a slow learner."

"What?!" Vader barked. He halted mid-step and half turned to face Ani again, his stance clearly communicating impatience.

The Jedi smiled with serene composure. "I said I'm not convinced yet."

"You will be," Vader promised.

"My wife says I can be thickheaded," replied Ani as he caught up.

"She's right," complained Vader, smoothly picking up his stride.

After a few more obviously less than necessary twists and turns, they arrived at the door to Vader's shipboard quarters. Standing outside it, Ani experienced a sensation which seemed to him the polar opposite of the one he had felt outside of Yoda's rooms in the Temple when he was a boy. Where the dwelling of the ancient Jedi Master had emanated warmth and comfort, the Dark Lord's private domain radiated frigid Dark Side energies; power that crackled like the blue death of Force lightning; pain upon bitter pain and the half-mad restlessness of a wounded animal caught too long in a cage too small even to pace around in.

Vader palmed open the door and strode inside. Ani followed, feeling distinctly like the proverbial fly caught in the spider's web. He had always known that his hold on this particular spider's good will was tenuous, but entering this room suddenly made it clear to him just how big the web was, and he couldn't help but realize that there was a bigger spider hiding somewhere just beyond both of their reach.

The room itself was heartbreaking to the young man on an entirely different level. Metaphysical considerations aside, it was a monumental statement on the practical ways in which Vader sought to destroy all that Anakin Skywalker had been. Ani had only seen his uncle's small room at the Jedi temple once, but that memory had been seared into his mind by the events that followed it. As a Jedi, he had owned little in the way of material possessions, but even so there were small mementos of places he'd been; holopictures; a 'cube identical to the one Obi Wan had carried--mostly with holos of Ani at various stages of his young life, but began and ended with the two of them. Ani knew because he had cycled through those images multiple times that night. By contrast, this place clinically spartan, an austere ships cabin hardly more suited for their intended task than the one Ani had been kept in. It was furnished only with essential items--a desk, some utilitarian chairs and sparsely populated shelves. Harsh overhead lighting provided the only illumination. There was no bed--probably because if Vader slept at all, he did so inside the hyperbaric chamber which was the room's dominating feature. On a raised dais at the center of the cabin, it was the only thing which would have told a non-Force user who lived here. There appeared to be nothing of a personal nature, as if all thought of personal interests and enjoyment had been expunged from Vader's life.

Except…a flicker in the Force directed Ani's attention toward a shadowed corner, where his Jedi training allowed him to pick out a slight nick in the otherwise smooth wall, a faint depression behind which a recessed compartment would hide if he judged correctly. He let his gaze pass over the spot with no particular interest, intentionally centering his attention on the spherical sanctuary of the hyperbaric chamber.

"You designed that?" he inquired.

"_That_ is not your concern," Vader growled. Ani could feel a spike of uneasiness from him as he spoke the words. It centered on his physical vulnerability and the limitations of the suit; his hatred of his own body and the repulsion he felt at the idea of anyone, especially Ani, seeing him without his armor.

He let the topic drop for the time being and moved to take one of the chairs. Vader followed him but remained standing, apparently wanting to maintain some measure of psychological power over him. He knew that a Jedi would have seated himself across from an instructor or even a partner during any kind of lesson. Doing so fostered balance and equality between the participants, but of course the SIth in Vader wanted to keep his head higher than Ani's, the better to create a paradigm of dominance and authority. Silently, Ani looked up at him for a few breaths, then rose from the chair and re-positioned himself on the floor with his legs crossed in front of him.

It was cold, and his back and sharp pains needled his back and side as he settled himself, but he carefully guarded his expression and posture to show no discomfort. Vader still towered over him, arms crossed, and Ani shook his head in mild rebuke.

"Really, Uncle, you need to get some more comfortable chairs in here. It's a sad day when the floor is a more pleasant place to sit than the furniture," he said sardonically.

A hint of smugness leaked through Vader's armor, and he slowly lowered himself into the seat that Ani had just vacated. Then he quipped, "I will keep that in mind for the next time I entertain guests."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Ani replied, hiding a smile.


	195. At The End of the Day

Isaly followed Hardy through the city streets and into the medcenter, remaining close by his armored back as he barreled past anyone who tried to question or stop them. He finally froze outside a transparisteel observation window, halted in his tracks by an inhuman howl of agony. Isaly slid past him to be confronted with a scene that could easily have been drawn straight from her husband's deepest nightmares. A blackened human figure lay clamped to a metal exam table by restraining bands at his wrists and ankles. Three medical droids were positioned around the table, but none were actually doing anything to alleviate the man's suffering or treat the burns. A fourth droid hovered above the table, slowly approaching him with a glistening hypodermic needle in its extended claw-arm.

"Stop!" Isaly ordered, investing her voice with every shred of authority she could muster. Then she whirled toward Hardy, who was still in the doorway. "Shoot that thing if it moves any closer."

She didn't wait for an acknowledgement but swept past the droids and briskly took stock of her patient's condition. After getting a closer look at him, she let out a soft, guarded sigh of relief. She couldn't make an accurate classification of the wounds so quickly; it often took a few days for the severity of a second or third degree burn to be established. For the moment, however, she could say that he appeared to have suffered mostly second degree burns, which was somewhat better than she had initially thought. There was some moderate swelling, skin discoloration and patches of eschar that indicated more severe damage, but the body glove hadn't been removed, and she hoped that most of the blackness she had glimpsed when she came in was actually the insulation.

Pinioning the nearest droid with a hard glare, she ordered sedatives and analgesics, then told the second one to start cutting away the remaining clothing, but cautioned it to be extremely careful when dealing with any areas where foreign material had been burned into or stuck to the skin. By the time she directed the third one to start applying bacta patches to the man's exposed skin, Hardy had recovered from his shock enough to join her at the side of the table.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"As soon as those drugs start working, I'm going to have to remove this stuff," Isaly said, indicating several large, ugly patches of discolored flesh with bits of the body glove stuck to it. "I can't put him in a bacta tank until the debris is cleaned out. For now, I want you to shoot anybody who tries to come in here. And shoot these droids if they don't do what I tell them."

"Yes, Ma'am," the stormtrooper nodded.

"What's your friend's name, Hardy?" Isaly asked.

"What?" he blinked at her. "Oh. Noa. Noa Gileead. We call him Gil."

Isaly nodded in and swallowed hard as she leaned over the table to catch the terrified blue eyes of a young man who, a day ago, would have been her enemy. "Gil? Can you hear me?"

There was a long pause, and she held her breath, only letting it out again when the young man's head moved in a faint but perceptible nod. Then she moved her hand to the side of the exam table and released his restraints.

"My name is Isaly. I'm going to help you," she promised. "Now I want you to take Hardy's hand. Don't let go."

* * *

Ani spent the next thirty minutes or so explaining to Vader what he intended to do. The Dark Lord's initial reaction was incredulity. That quickly shifted to derision, but Ani expected that and took Vader's mockery in stride. The Sith wanted evidence that the young Jedi's ideas would work before he would consent to any guided meditation. Never having actually tried the pain blocking techniques on anyone but himself, Ani didn't _have_ proof, but he had worked out a way counter his uncle's demands. He knew that the two things Vader wanted from this encounter were relief from pain and the opportunity to open Ani's mind to his Sith ideology. He had already convinced himself that Ani's plan for the first would not succeed, so Ani decided to provide him with what he would perceive as an avenue to his second objective. Taking a page from his future brother-in-law, he proposed a wager that he knew he couldn't lose. If Vader agreed to his proposal without complaint and it turned out that he was right, Ani would let him demonstrate how the use of the Dark Side served him better.

He sensed suspicion from Vader at the proposal, then confusion as he could still find no deception in anything Ani said to him. He seemed to have expected a maneuver like this from his nephew, but it stood to reason that he also anticipated a certain level of duplicity from the Jedi. While no Jedi would intentionally lie, it had been a common enough occurrence for the ones he knew to either withhold information or choose words which could be interpreted in more than one way. He wasn't used to forthrightness from anyone at this stage of his life, and he had what he felt was ample reason to mistrust any promise made to him by a Kenobi. Fortunately, however, Ani was telling him the absolute truth. He _would_ honor his sides of the bet if he lost--but he had no intention of losing. Once Vader understood that, it became a matter of pride for him to accept the bet. If he believed that the Dark Side and his Sith Ways were so superior to the Jedi teachings that Ani followed, he had to agree if only for the sake of proving himself correct.

Once he agreed, he still put up a considerable amount of resistance to Ani's endeavors to direct him. Some of it was intentional. He simply couldn't stand the notion of being the learner in this situation--especially with a Kenobi in a position of authority. On top of that, he now also had a reason to want the exercise to fail, but Ani was willing to gamble that his uncle's desire to regain at least some measure of control over his body would win out. Vader's doubt played a bigger part; he didn't believe they would succeed, and so they progressed at a creeping pace more typical of over-critical adolescent Padawans than two fully trained Force adepts. After several unsuccessful attempts at guiding Vader into a conscious control of his own pain centers, Ani took another tack and instead allowed his uncle to follow as he worked to block the persistent pain in his side and the nagging, nauseous throb that was permeating his skull and leaking along his nerves. He found it somewhat nerve racking to willingly give Vader such open access to the inner workings of his body. This was the same being who routinely used the Force to telekinetically crush windpipes, and now Ani was letting him have an insider's view of his own nerve and organ systems. However, the show of trust seemed to pay off as Vader became less resistive to the thought that Ani might be able to help him. Eventually, Ani couldn't help but remember that Anakin Skywalker had also used the Force to keep his infant heart beating. He decided that it was, if not fitting, at least hopeful, that Vader could be persuaded to accept similar help from him now.

At its core, Jedi meditation was a passive process. The practitioner narrowed the focus of his consciousness, allowing his awareness of the Force to deepen and grow while connections and thoughts of the physical world temporarily lessened. As the sense of one's own unity with the Force increased, so did the correlation between the needs of the Jedi and the response of the Force. The ability of a Jedi to command the Force was based on the seemingly contradictory principle of surrender to the Force. For Ani to use the Force for this purpose, his first objective was to achieve a concordant harmony with it which would allow the energy to flow freely. After that, he became something of a cross between a gardener and irrigation line. Because he was both part of the Force and cognizant of its flow, his need directed it, and his mind acted as the focusing point that could harness it for a constructive purpose.

There was a fine line between this sort of application and the Sith alternative. Where a Jedi sought to act as a conduit for the Force, their Dark Side counterparts endeavored to control it through the imposition of personal will. Where for Ani, the relationship between himself and the Force was based on respect and a desire to serve, Vader's relationship with it had degenerated into a will-centered paradigm of dominance and control. Once he understood that his nephew's ideas were not simply the product of a mind clouded by his idealistic crusade to redeem Anakin, the Dark Lord immediately saw and seized upon a manner in which Sith methodology could be applied to the principles of what the young Knight had done.

Ani watched with a mix of fascination and horror as Vader abandoned his role as an inactive observer and seized control of the Force currents flowing around and through them. With single-minded intent and no thought for any potential consequences, he drove the energy along the pathways of his will and used a rough re-creation of the careful visualizations that Ani had shown him to duplicate Ani's efforts. Except, where Ani had been carefully measured in his use of the Force, producing a carefully controlled, gradual reduction in the pain and nausea he felt, Vader attacked the problem with the same quality of obsessed determination that he might have used against an opponent in battle.

At first, pain became a rapid-fire tingling throughout Vader's body. It was not pleasant for Ani, but even he preferred it to the ever-present sensations of burning or tearing flesh that Anakin constantly endured. With it, his nephew could feel both astonishment and a sense of self-important triumph. His Dark Side technique had produced the same result as Ani's weak Jedi method. What's more, it was accomplished much more quickly and efficiently. Where it had taken the Knight several minutes of foolishly arduous mental effort in order to afford himself any relief from his paltry injuries, Vader had experienced almost immediate success on a much greater scale. Ani held back a sigh of regret as he understood that his uncle had managed to turn the whole thing against him. Rather than seeing the day's events as evidence of his sincerity, Vader would frame the entire experience so that it became no more than an object lesson on the superiority of the Dark Side. Now, he had not only been given the knowledge he wanted, but he had found a way to "prove" the power of the Dark Side to his unwitting nephew.

The black mask was as impassive and expressionless as ever, but in his mind's eye, Anakin Kenobi was certain that he saw his namesake's lips beginning to curl upward in a sneer of victory. He slowly lowered his head, staring at the metal hands which rested on his knees--his hands, he thought, fighting a shudder. They had been a parting gift to him from Vader, and along with the legs they now rested on, they had been the impetus of this entire encounter. He had believed that he could make them the instruments of his quest to redeem Anakin Skywalker. Now it seemed to him that they would be no more than the hands Vader used--a testimony to the pointless waste and destruction that all these years of war had wreaked upon the galaxy.

The Sith Lord started to say something and Ani braced himself for the beginning of a diatribe on the virtues of the Dark Side. Before Vader could begin, though, the tingling that he was experiencing began to drop off. His breather rasped sharply, and the heart monitor in his chest-box started to bleat frantic warnings. For a moment, Ani was knocked breathless by vicarious disorientation. Anakin's nervous system belatedly began to register the absence of pain, but rather than the relief that both he and Ani had anticipated it brought a strange, alien void of consciousness that left Vader suddenly unanchored from the physical world and unable to process his own tactile sensations. Pain, which had been his reality for more than two decades, was suddenly gone, and without it he felt detached from the awkward, ungainly body that was supposed to be his. Without pain to provide focus, he was without center, more off balance than ever with only faulty mechanical eardrums to stabilize him.

Ani drew on the Force as Vader's vertigo threatened to sweep over him. He surged off the floor, bringing himself swiftly to his knees in front of the chair, and planted his hands firmly on his uncle's shoulders. "Uncle. Easy. Hold on to me. It's all right, I won't let go."


	196. Everyone Falters

Night had fallen in the Cloud City by the time that Isaly and Hardy finally stood together in front of the bacta tank where Gil was undergoing what would be the first of several treatments. She ached with weariness and had to lean against his side for support. His arms slowly moved around her shoulders in a gesture of brotherly concern and encouragement that reminded her painfully of Luke. She thought again of the injustice that this man should have to pay the price for the Kenobis' escape. Why had Vader singled _him_ out for the responsibility of guarding the prisoners? There could have been any number of capable officers in the city by the time they were apprehended.

Yet if it hadn't been Hardy, neither of them was likely to be standing here now. Gil would have been consigned to an early death by Imperial medics trained to assess a patient's potential for recovery with criteria based on social class, strategic importance, and the amount of resources that would have to be invested in care and treatment. Stormtroopers as a group were an essential component to the Imperial armed forces; individuals within their ranks were probably more expendable than regular troops. Many of them were clones, which fostered the belief that they could be easily replaced, and as an elite cadre of soldiers answerable only to the Emperor himself, they were trained and conditioned to accept the notion of sacrificial death when injured. A wounded man was a weak link in the chain.

She slowly shifted her gaze, being careful not to move her head as she did so. Hardy looked haggard and beaten, all the fire she had seen earlier drained out of him by the ordeal that the two of them had just gone through. He seemed almost as tired as Isaly felt--with a kind of emotional exhaustion that went deeper than bodily strain or fatigue. She wondered whether he would have come to her for anyone or whether there was something unusual in his relationship to Gil. She had the uncomfortable feeling that, if he had been the victim, he would have expected his comrade to let him die. Sighing softly, she lowered her eyes to the ground and blinked back tears.

"Thank you," he offered quietly.

Isaly raised her head, startled. "I did what any healer would do."

"Not any healer," he shook his head.

"All right," she amended. "I did what any healer in the Rebel Alliance would have done."

"Why?" he asked with a perplexed frown.

"Because we value every life," she replied.

Hardy's reply was a derisive snort.

Isaly craned her neck and arched an eyebrow at him. "What does that mean?"

"You're trying to tell me that nobody ever makes a life and death call in the rebellion?" he demanded.

"No, I'm not," she shook her head. "This is a war. Hard decisions have to be made, especially when supplies are limited and there are a lot of wounded. Triage decisions are based on the ratio of available resources, including medical personnel, to the number and severity of injuries. It doesn't matter to us whether the patient is an unknown ground soldier or Mon Mothma."

Hardy's eyes widened, his features registering first surprise and then skepticism. Isaly said no more, leaving him to make up his own mind. The practical realities were considerably more complicated than the way she had presented them. If Mon Mothma had somehow managed to sustain a serious injury, she probably would be treated ahead of an ordinary rebel soldier with similar injuries. The difference was in the ethical and philosophical reasoning behind the process of prioritizing treatment. As long as resources were plentiful, medical care would never be withheld based on a patient's military or political importance.

After a few moments of silence, he shook his head in dismissal and said, "That's why you're Rebellion won't win this war."

"Oh really?" Isaly stiffened, drawing away from him.

"You have limited resources and you allow the weakest to divert what you have away from the strong," he said flatly.

"So the sick and injured shouldn't be cared for? Even non-sentient pack animals will defend an injured member," she pointed out.

He shook his head again, more vigorously this time. "That's not what I'm saying. If the weak aren't culled out, they become a drain on society. There's a point at which you have to allow natural selection to take its course."

"Survival of the fittest?"

"Mm-hm."

"Then why did you want me to save Gil?" she asked pointedly.

"This wasn't the breaking point," he shrugged.

"Why not?"  
"Because I know Gil. He's strong enough to recover from this," Hardy said.

"Isn't he expendable?" Isaly persisted. "Why should he be allowed to waste the resources required to treat him?"

"There's no shortage here. It doesn't apply."

"Mm-hm."

"What?" he twisted sharply to look down at her.

"So, what's your real reason?" she smirked.

He turned away, fixing his eyes back on the body in the bacta tank. "That is my real reason."

"Hardy, the man who came running into my cell this afternoon wasn't worried about a philosophical problem," Isaly said.

He let a long, slow breath and didn't reply for so long that Isaly decided she probably wasn't going to get an answer. Then he lowered his head and said in a hoarse voice, "He's my best friend. We're like brothers."

Isaly bit her lip and raised her hand to his arm. "I understand. And he'll be all right. I wish I could stay to continue treating him, but the bacta will do its work now whether I'm here or not."

He nodded.

There was little talk after that. The bacta treatment ended, and the two of them accompanied Gil to a recovery room. Hardy said a few words to him in the way of encouragement, but they weren't really sure how much of it registered before he drifted into an exhausted sleep.

Isaly felt oddly conflicted and at a loss as to what she should do. On the one hand, she knew that she might not have another chance to talk to Hardy like this. She didn't know if anything she said would have the power to alter a way of thinking that was so deeply ingrained in him, but it felt irresponsible of her not to try when she knew that her family would soon arrive to rescue her, and once they did, Hardy's life would be essentially forfeit. On the other hand, he was under considerable mental and emotional strain, and any decisions he made under such duress might not hold up once the current crisis had passed. Convincing him to help her and the children escape was not the same as convincing him to join the rebellion. Even if he could be persuaded to turn on the Empire, it was likely to be a long time before anyone in the Alliance really trusted him. He might even end up a prisoner of war.

If that happened, he would feel manipulated and used. Any rapport that Isaly had established would probably be broken, and he wouldn't easily accept the notion that the Kenobis' escape would have happened whether he helped them or not. The only other option she could see was to wait until Luke and Obi Wan actually got here and then offer Hardy the chance to come with them once it was apparent that escape was a foregone conclusion. How likely was he to accept such an offer? How would the rest of the family react to the inclusion of a stormtrooper? Well, Hardy had to choose his own path one way or the other, regardless of what Isaly wanted. She could only provide him with an option. She felt sure that none of the Kenobis would put up a fight about it until they were safely away from the Empire. After that, Obi Wan wouldn't be hard to win over, and with his support, she could convince the others to trust him. Even if it didn't work and he was kept prisoner, she found that idea infinitely more palatable than the notion of being responsible, however indirectly, for the death of a man who had protected her daughter.

In the end, Hardy solved her immediate problem for her by announcing that he was taking her back to the tower. Isaly nodded without comment, suddenly feeling even more fatigued now that the rush of danger was past. He seemed to be drooping a little as well, and he made no attempts at conversation as they plodded through the city. Isaly was glad enough for the silence. By the time they reached her cell, walking felt more like slogging hip-deep in thick swamp mud. Prison cot or not, she wanted nothing more than to sink down on a bed and sleep--and then, preferably, to be awakened by a kiss from Ani and told that she had slept through the excitement of the rescue.

Then the door opened and she went frigid as she realized that the cell was empty. Hardy stiffened in front of her, then slammed a fist into the side of the door and let loose with a string of invective easily worthy of Han in a fit of temper. Isaly stared numbly into the dark room, her overtaxed brain refusing process what it was seeing into anything meaningful.

"Where are they?" she cried.

"I left the damn door open when I came to get you!" Hardy shouted, punctuating the statement with another punch to the doorframe. Then he spun around and slid past her back into the hall. "Come on, get in there!"

"No, wait!" she shook her head fiercely, weariness forgotten at a new threat to the children.

"Isaly, I don't have time to argue with you!" he yelled, grabbing her arm. He tried to shove her in, but she whirled on him, driving a swift kick at his knee where the armor left the joint exposed. Caught off guard, he staggered back and grabbed his leg, staring at her in wide-eyed disbelief as he hopped about to keep his balance. "Ow! What's the matter with you?!"

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"What do you think I'm gonna do? I have to report this!" he yelled.  
"You can't do that!" she shook her head vehemently.

"I have to! It's procedure, now get in there or I'll shoot you next time!" he insisted.

"Hardy, you can't! Vader will kill you when he finds out the kids escaped!" she pleaded, feeling hot tears begin to sting her eyes.

"Why the hell do you care?" he demanded.

"You know, with the way you're acting, I'm beginning to ask myself the same question!" she fired at him.

"Good!" he waved an arm at the open cell door again. "So get in!"

"There's another way!" she said urgently. "Please. Listen to me and no one will have to die. If we hurry, no one will get hurt."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, shaking his head in dumbfounded confusion.

"They would have tried to get to one of the Landing Platforms--"

"Then it's over. There's been no report; the must've found a way through security. They're gone by now," he said. "I don't know how a couple of kids could've done that, but they'd been caught, we'd know," he said.

"They wouldn't leave without me," she shook her head firmly.

"Then what? They're hiding?"

"No. They're trying to sneak aboard _Executor_ and free my husband," she explained.

"That's crazy!" he exclaimed.

"Well, crazy or not, that's where they are," she replied.

"Then Vader has them," he swallowed hard.

"Not yet. If they'd been discovered, you would have heard from Vader yourself by now," Isaly said, reaching to lay a hand on his shoulder. "We need to find them first."

"We?" he raised an eyebrow.

She nodded. "Put me in binders. Take me up there with you. I'll be your cover. If anyone questions you, you can say that you're acting on direct orders from Vader and if they want to know more they can ask him directly."

"I don't know," he shook his head, pulling his bottom lip nervously.

"What have you got to lose? You're dead already."

"You have a point," he said uncomfortably. Then he nodded and reached for the electrobinders at his waist. "All right."

"Wait. I need to see Lobot first."

"Lobot? Why?"

"Because I need to leave a message for my father-in-law." 


	197. Animus Liber

As soon as Vader had recovered from his dizzy spell, he hurled Ani away. Already in an awkward position, the Knight lost control of his fall and flew backward, skidding across the cold metal floor to the wall on the other side. He managed to shift positions enough so that his previously uninjured shoulder took the brunt of the impact. Then he grit his teeth and rolled back to a sitting position.

_You're welcome, Uncle Anakin,_ he thought, further clenching his jaw in order to keep his tongue in check. He could feel his patience waning and knew that must be exactly what Vader wanted. He couldn't allow the Sith to provoke him.

"In the future, I would suggest that you block the pain receptors incrementally," he said in a mild tone.

"Noted," rumbled Vader.

"There are other things I could show you, Uncle. If we had more time," he ventured.

"You cannot sway me with bribes, boy. You will be turned over to the Emperor," Vader declared, suddenly pushing himself to his feet.

"That's not what I'm trying to do," Ani shook his head, quickly scrambling to his feet as well. His head swam with the rapid shift of positions, and he reached into the Force to steady himself. "I'm just telling you the truth. There are many other things I've learned about the Force since the Death Star that would be of value to you. The Emperor will never allow me to do any more."

"That cannot be changed," Vader responded harshly.

"Not if you turn me over to him," Ani agreed with a shrug.

"I…have no choice," Vader shook his head. "He is already aware of your capture."

"Then let's not go to Coruscant," Ani said. The words were out of his mouth before he had fully realized that he was going to speak them. He and Isaly had discussed the logistics involved in freeing his uncle from the moving prison of his armor. He knew that the first step was to convince Vader to leave with him, and in the back of his mind there was a half-formed plan as to where they would hide and how the Dark Lord might be safely smuggled to an adequate medical facility after the fact, but there were myriad details still to be worked out, and after the less than successful endings to all of their encounters thus far, he hadn't been ready to even broach the subject. He'd wanted to be able to build a considerably more stable rapport with Vader before opening up such a potentially threatening dialogue. The Force apparently had other ideas, however, so Ani simply drew in a breath and waited for the Sith Lord's reply.

_Hey…Qui-Gon? If you're around somewhere, a little help would be good right about now…?_ he called.

_You're doing well enough without our interference, Anakin,_ came a soft response.  
_Master Windu?_

There was no response from the Jedi Spirit, and Ani briefly closed his eyes. He knew that the Force Ghosts wouldn't interfere directly in a confrontation between himself and Vader, but he had grown used to their counsel over the years. He'd expected a bit more guidance now that he was standing face to face with the one whose existence had set all of this in motion.

_Maybe that's the problem, though,_ he sighed to himself. _They're dead. I'm alive. I'm the one who has to do this, and I won't benefit from hand-holding. Still, it'd be nice…_

Vader took no apparent notice of Mace's presence. He regarded Ani silently for the space of a breath, then abruptly strode toward the door. "Enough of this foolishness. You will return to cell until we reach Imperial Center. If you attempt escape, I will kill you."

Ani held his ground, not moving. "Uncle Anakin, hear me out."

"I have heard enough," Vader snapped. He reached the door and stabbed the button beside it, then turned expectantly, his cloak flaring as he fixed the mask back on his unmoving nephew. "Let's go."

Ani approached him slowly, raising his hands to chest in a gesture of both openness and imploring sincerity. "If wanted to leave here, who could stop us?"

"_I_ have no wish to leave," Vader declared flatly.

"What reason do you have to stay?" Ani questioned.

"If you understood the true power of the Dark Side, you would not ask such questions," Vader told him dismissively.

"My mother says that there is no power greater than love," replied Ani.

"Your mother--" began Vader, but the words broke off sharply, and the unfinished sentence died in a raspy inhalation of breath.

Ani smiled slowly, still edging his way cautiously toward the door. "You can't say it, can you? As much as you might want to, you can't dismiss her. You can't call her a fool."

"The issue is whether or not her son is a fool," shot Vader.

"Why were you trying to save her life those last few days before the Clone Wars ended, Uncle?" Ani reasoned quietly. "Why did you protest when Palpatine wanted you to kill me? Why did you tell me to run away during the siege? Wasn't it out of love for us?"

"Anakin Skywalker was the biggest fool of them all, boy," snarled Vader.

"Because he loved?"

"Because she lied! She and Obi Wan!"

"Yes," Ani nodded, his brow creasing with the impact of Vader's pain and grief. "And Palpatine. They lied to you, my uncle. Whether they meant to hurt you or not, they all lied. But I never have. And you succeeded. We survived. It was the love we all had for one another then that kept us alive, and the love we still have is what brought you and I here now. Search your feelings. You know I'm telling you the truth."

Vader's breather hitched as Ani halted on the opposite side of the doorframe. The two men locked gazes, and the Dark Lord raised a black-gloved finger, which he pointed at Ani's chest in accusation. "You are a Jedi."

"Yes, I am. And I'm still Ani. And I still love you whether you like it or not."

Vader's hand slowly dropped to his side. The breather rasped and hissed between them, the only reply he made for a full minute. Then he swept away from the door, coming to a halt in the center of the room with his back to his namesake. Finally, Ani could feel the cold rage that fueled him beginning to crack. Thick black despair oozed out over it, threatening to smother both of them and draw them beneath its viscous depths.

Cautiously, Ani reached out to press the control button for the door. He watched it slide closed, and took a tentative step toward the black armored figure that still stood rooted to the floor. Vader gave no outward indication that he was aware of his nephew's approach, but Ani held his position.

"Uncle?"

"Where would _I_ go?" Vader asked, desperately derisive.

Ani closed his eyes and let out a gentle breath that was half weariness and half reluctant hope. "I know a place."

"There _is_ no such place!" insisted the Dark Lord.

"Yes, there is," Ani said firmly. "Uncle Anakin, listen to me. If we could get you out of the suit, no one would recognize you. You could go where you wanted--"

"It is not possible!"

_"Why not?"_ Ani pressed. "There is no physical difference between cloned lung replacements and the kinds of biological replacements that were used for the Clone Troopers in the war. The same thing could be done for ears and your voice box. At the very least we could get you fitted for better prostheses. Can you give me one logical argument?"

The question triggered an avalanche of anxiety and self-loathing from Vader. He stubbornly remained silent, and Ani rubbed his eyes, emotional fatigue beginning to wear on the stamina afforded him by the combination of determination and Force-supplemented physical reserves. He had expected resistance, but he hadn't gauged the true depth of Vader's feelings.

To get him out of the suit meant that he would have to endure multiple lengthy surgical procedures. His memories of surgery following the duel on Mustafar were horrific, and there was no one he trusted enough to make him face those memories or the threat of more such treatment. Even if there was, being out of the suit meant that people would have to see his disfigured body, and he couldn't abide that.

"I'd stay with you the whole time, I promise you," Ani attempted.

"Don't make a bigger mistake than you already have," warned Vader.

"It's my mistake to make."

"This discussion is pointless, boy--"

"_Anakin._"

Vader slowly pivoted toward him, making the word a sneer. "Anakin. Your father should have changed that name."

"Even if we had changed it, I would be the same, and so would you," Ani shrugged.

"You were fortunate that I never discovered your sand burrow," Vader told him contemptuously.

"You weren't looking. We were far enough in the outer rim to escape Imperial notice, and my parents were careful to make sure no one asked uncomfortable questions," Ani said.

"While you hid in the desert like filthy jawas," Vader growled.

Ani smiled and shook his head in disappointment. "My uncle, you're going to have to try harder than that, I'm afraid."

"I can sense your anger growing," Vader told him. "You fear for your family. You are losing patience. I haven't released them yet. You think perhaps I won't. I have what I need from you now."

With effort, Ani held his Jedi composure firm in the face of the Sith's onslaught of mockery and goading. "Did I tell you that my wife grew up in Mos Espa? I met her at Watto's shop when I went to see the place you used to live."

"Really. And what was your impression of Mos Espa?" scoffed the Dark Lord.

"I was glad that I was raised on my Uncle Owen's farm instead of in a place like that," Ani replied truthfully. He felt both surprise and a smoldering jealousy from Vader at the mention of Owen's name--the same jealousy that he usually sensed underlying their discussions about Obi Wan. Resisting the urge to rub his eyes, he explained, "Owen and Beru Lars took us in when we came to Tattooine. Beru said that they believed your mother would have wanted them to do so. Owen took me under wing, I guess. I helped him work the farm until your stormtroopers burned it down looking for Artoo."

"You wish to be a moisture farmer," Vader realized suddenly.

"The farm is still there. That's what I'm going to do when this war ends," Ani told him.

"If you survive that long, you will no longer have any interest in farming," Vader promised.

"I would if you came away with me now," Ani replied calmly.

"To hide? On a moisture farm?" mocked Vader.

"Well, I know you don't like sand, Uncle, but the farm _is_ a more pleasant option than any of the alternatives. You wouldn't have to stay there forever," Ani said with a half smile.

"Just until you rebuild me," was Vader's scathing rejoinder.

"Well…frankly, yes," Ani nodded.

"Perhaps I have thrown you into one too many walls," mused Vader. "Your brains appear to be addled."

"Well, that's entirely possible, Uncle," Ani admitted candidly. "I'm pretty sure I have a concussion. But I still think the farm beats keeping our appointment with your master."

"Well--" began Vader, breaking off as a brief flash of a familiar Force presence suddenly flickered through Ani's awareness, but vanished again before he could tell where it was coming from. "What was that?"

"What was what?" he asked blankly. He wouldn't lie to his uncle. Everything he was trying to do here hinged on his ability to win Anakin's trust. In this case, though, he couldn't volunteer any information that would tip Vader off to the potential problem.

"Do not play games with me. I know you felt it too," Vader said darkly.

"Well, I felt something. I can't be sure what it was; it was gone too fast," he said sincerely. He had a very good idea who and what they had both sensed, but he couldn't be sure, specifically because the person he suspected had a unique way of being able to hide herself when she was being pursued. Usually, though, the pursuit was something a bit more benign than a Sith Lord.

"We shall see," Vader told him. "Remain here."

"Yes, Uncle," Ani forced himself to say as the black-caped menace swept from the room. He let out a long sigh and moved to one of the chairs, sagging into it in slump-shouldered exhaustion. He let his head hang forward, unable to will himself to move, until Vader's cold presence had drifted far enough away so that it was only a vague ruffling of his senses. Then, with immense effort, he drew his head back and closed his eyes, reaching outward through the still simmering Force currents until he found not the presence he sought but the absence where something should have been.

_Shmi. Jareth. Get back to the ship._


	198. Upstairs, Downstairs

Ani heard and felt no response from Shmi, which was just as well as far as he was concerned. He wasn't sure how skilled his daughter's use of Force-telepathy had become, and it was better that she didn't risk discovery by Vader. He weighed his options wearily, trying to devise the best way of helping them and how much damage his actions were likely to do to his credibility with Anakin. He couldn't just sit here; he knew that much.

The only way that the two of them could have gotten on board would have been to stow away aboard a troop transport or supply shuttle. They could make it back to the hangar where they'd landed and…then what? He sighed softly. Telling them to get back to the ship had been a gut-level response, but it really didn't solve anything. They couldn't simply stow away again; Vader was looking for them, or at least he was looking for an intruder. They might be able to pilot a shuttle to get away, but he doubted they could successfully avoid pursuit whether or not the Dark Lord ordered his men to withhold fire. In any case, Isaly wasn't with them, and he knew better than to think they would try to escape without her.

He'd always firmly agreed with his parents' stance regarding teamwork and solidarity in the family, but this time he honestly wished there was a little less "all for one" in the Kenobi Way. Something was going to have to give here, and he couldn't in good conscience allow the kids to be put in harm's way for the sake of maintaining or furthering his trust relationship with Anakin. Shaking his head ruefully, he pushed himself to his feet and started for the door.

Halfway there, the whole cabin gave a tremendous lurch and shook violently, spilling the unsuspecting Jedi back onto the floor. This time he caught himself on his hands, but the impact sent a sharp pain lancing through his injured shoulder. Wincing, he pulled himself to his knees, and once there, the room began to spin. He closed his eyes, drawing in deep breaths until the dizziness passed. Then he slowly opened them and climbed to his feet.

_Dad, please tell me that was you…?_ he called through the Force.

_Stay where you are, Ani. Leia and I will be along presently,_ Obi Wan told him calmly.

_I thought you were bringing Rogue Squadron…_

_Well, the Rogues are here, but we found some unexpected help,_ replied Obi Wan.

_Great. You might want to be careful what you're shooting at. The kids are wandering around the ship someplace,_ Ani said.

_What?!_ Obi Wan exclaimed.

Another wave of dizziness passed through Ani, this time bringing his nausea to an uncomfortable peak. He swallowed hard. _Sorry, Dad. I can't keep talking. I'm going to throw up._

His father's mental touch faded just in time for him to sense Vader approaching again. Beginning to feel like a cord pulled in two directions at once, he went back to the chair, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers to ease the headache. Vader swept back into the room alone, and Ani wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried.

"Come with me," ordered the Sith Lord.

"Where?" asked Ani.

"Back to your cell," Vader replied.

"Remember, you promised to let my family leave with my father," Ani reminded him.

"So long as your father does not cross my path before he lands at Cloud City, he will have nothing to worry about," Vader said.

"Which says nothing about Isaly or the children, does it?" Ani shook his head as he rose.

Vader made no response, but he hadn't really expected one. He fell into step behind the black-clad figure and trooped back to the turbolift. Memories surfaced again as they boarded it, and despite his efforts to push the images of the Jedi Temple out of his mind, he kept imagining that the car would stop, the door would slide open, and they would be confronted with the stern countenance of Mace Windu.

His sense of displacement was finally shattered when the lift squealed to a halt between decks. Frowning, Ani half turned to examine the control panel, which gave him no indication of the problem, then he looked at Vader. The Sith Lord's head swiveled toward him at the same moment.

"Did you press the stop button?" he demanded.

"No, did you?" Ani raised an eyebrow.

"No."

Expelling a thoughtful breath, Ani peered up at the ceiling, and then looked at his uncle again. "I could get us out."

"I am not giving you a lightsaber."

"Come on, Uncle, where exactly am I going to go?" he asked.

"That is irrelevant," insisted Vader.

"Well do you want to cut us out, then?" Ani offered, raising an eyebrow. Both of them knew full well that Vader could no longer hold a lightsaber directly over his head to do that, but he doubted that the Dark Lord would be willing to admit to such a weakness.

Vader stared at him intently for a minute, then unhooked Ani's saberstaff from his belt and held it out to him with a grudging sort of growl. Ani resisted the urge to smile as he accepted the weapon, but he was sure that his amusement was not lost on Anakin, who continued grumble wordlessly as the Knight thumbed on his weapon and slowly burned out an elliptical hole in the roof of the car.

"Watch it," he warned a moment before the smoking slab came loose from the ceiling. It clanked to the floor, barely missing Vader's toe, and the Sith glared dangerously.

"Be careful!"

"Sorry, Uncle, I'm afraid my visual perception may be slightly off. What with having been slammed into a wall six or seven times in the last two days and everything, I mean," Ani quipped. "And then there's the fact that my shoulder is killing me."

"Do you want something to distract you from the pain in your shoulder?" Vader asked dryly.

"No, I think I'm good, actually," Ani smirked. He clipped the joined lightsabers back to his own belt and vaulted upward through the hole before Vader could make good on the implied threat. Landing on the roof of the turbolift car, he was struck by a wave of fear-anger-betrayal from Vader. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he shook his head and edged closer to the hole, slipping his arm back down for the Sith to grab.

He was very grateful for the superhuman strength of his mechnos as he hauled Vader upward. Once his head, arms and chest were through, he insisted he could come the rest of the way unaided, and although he would have liked to protest, he knew better than to do so. He made no comment as Vader clambered onto the top of the car and got to his feet. Once they were both standing, though, he gave his uncle a look that he hoped reflected both his sadness and genuine surprise.

"Did you really think I would leave you in there?"

"If you had, you would not have gotten very far," Vader replied ominously.

"Right," Ani sighed, taking a look around the darkened elevator shaft. "Okay, I'm going to jump up to the next level and see if I can get the doors open. Don't go anywhere."

"Where would I--" began Vader as Ani Force-leapt away again. The Jedi heard the end of the question as he moved upward and assumed that the odd, trailing quality of his uncle's voice was due to his own upward motion. "goooooooooooo………..?"

His fingertips curled around the edge of the landing just as the doors slid open. Above him, Ani could see several pairs of white, booted feet, and even as he craned his neck in order to get a better look, he knew what he was going to find. As expected, he found a trio of blaster rifles pointed down at him.

"Hands up, Jedi," ordered the crackling voice of a stormtrooper.

"You don't understand. I'm with Lord Vader!" Ani said hurriedly. He shook his head and released one hand to point down at the turbolift car, but abruptly realized that it was no longer where it had been. As it moved downward, he glimpsed what he thought was the end of Vader's cloak disappearing back down the hole. "Well, he was there."

Sighing, he swung off the landing, used the Force to angle his descent toward the opposite wall and then kicked off that to aim himself back down the hole, which was receding farther away from him with every passing moment. He landed just as Vader had finished picking himself up off the floor, and had to restrain a laugh at the sight of the cloak inside-out over the Dark Lord's head.

"Uncle!" he called as Vader whirled to face him. The red lightsaber sailed into the Sith's right hand and ignited even before he had managed to right the heavy garment with a combination of the Force and his left hand.

"Oh, it's you!" Vader sighed with relief as the lift car lurched to a stop again.

"Are you all right?" Ani asked worriedly.

"What happened?" barked Vader, dismissing the question.

"Well, these stormtroopers told me to put my hands up, so…"

"So you did," Vader said in disbelief.

"Look, no more addled brain jokes, okay? The addling was your fault anyway," Ani said.

"Did I say anything?" demanded Vader.

"I _am_ trying, Uncle!"

"I _did not_ say anything!"

* * *

The X-Wing fighter skidded across the hangar floor, eventually coming to a lurching halt that made its pilot especially glad that he had skipped lunch. Nobby warbled a worried inquiry and he assured the droid that he was all right. Then he popped the canopy and vaulted out of the ship, landing with lightsaber in hand to deflect a blaster bolt that had been meant for his head. Leia was already on the ground, and the two of them made short work of the rest of their welcoming committee, which consisted of stormtroopers, droids, and regular navy personell.

"Nice flying, I'm proud of you," he told her as they stood back to back in front of their recently landed and still smoking crafts.

"Well, I had some good teachers," Leia said with a touch of sadness as she holstered a blaster pistol against her leg.

Nobby popped out of her socket and joined them, urging both of the humans, whom she seemed to regard as her personal responsibility, to hurry along. Obi Wan smiled and followed the little droid to a nearby computer socket, giving her dome an affectionate pat as she plugged in. A few seconds later, her holoprojector activated in a flickering spray of blue that solidified into a partial schematic highlighting the location where Ani was being held.

"You were right. It's not the brig," Leia observed.

"Well, come on. We're still not going to have an easy time getting to him," Obi Wan replied.

"Unless it's a trap."

"Of course it's a trap. That doesn't mean it will be an easy one to spring," Obi Wan said.

"Well, Vader's probably not expecting me," Leia pointed out, moving toward the open corridor behind them.

"Nobby, here," Obi Wan said, his hand moving to the side of his belt where the comlink should have been. He patted himself, frowning in consternation, then sighed as Leia turned back to him. "Have you got an extra comlink? I gave mine to your mother."

"Here, Nobby," Leia said with a knowing smile as she tossed the small, cylindrical device across the hangar to the waiting droid. Nobby's claw arm shot out to catch it, and she immediately tucked it back into her chest cavity, twittering with amusement at her master's lapse of memory.

"Very funny," Obi Wan told her, following after Leia. "You know, Leia, maybe getting I am too old for this sort of thing."

"Not by a long shot, Dad," Leia called back to him.

They met with surprisingly little resistance on the way to the deck where Ani was being held. While both were careful to avoid notice, employing Jedi tricks when applicable, the only opposition they encountered was in the form of droids. Vader did not usually rely so heavily on non-living defenses; he didn't trust them. Obi Wan was increasingly uneasy as they moved undeterred through the ship and onto the appropriate deck. Once they found the locked cabin, he was almost relieved to find Ani not inside it. This was more like Vader.

Leia, however, had a less positive opinion of the situation. "This is the wrong deck. You don't think Nobby's malfunctioning already, do you?"

"No," Obi Wan shook his head. "I think Vader's a step ahead of us. But he won't be for long."

"Right," Leia said, looking around uneasily.

_Ani?_ Obi Wan called again. _Are you all right?_

_Um…that depends on your definition of all right…_ his son's reply drifted back to him.

_Where are you?_ asked Obi Wan with a touch of alarm. _What's the matter?_

_I'm stuck in an elevator with Uncle Anakin._

"I don't believe it," Obi Wan rubbed his eyes.


	199. The Path We Choose and The Path Unchosen

The grille over the air vent in Vader's quarters popped out and Jareth wiggled out of the shaft. He was followed a few seconds later by Shmi, who was now more disheveled than ever and looking decidedly uncomfortable. She peered around the room, then scowled in frustration. Not finding Ani, Jareth immediately barreled for the door, but Shmi raced up the steps at the center of the room, stopping in front of the large, egg-shaped object at the top of the dais.

Jareth half turned to look at her. "Come on, Shmi! What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for the 'fresher!" she called over her shoulder.

He rolled his eyes. "I told you to go before we got off the shuttle."

"Well, I didn't have to go then!" she said defensively.

"Once we find Master Ani, we can find a 'fresher, now will you hurry up?" he urged.

Shmi was busy pressing buttons on a control panel and not paying attention to a word he said. "What is this thing, anyway?"

"I don't know, but I bet it's not a 'fresher," Jareth replied.

Suddenly, the egg started to open, splitting itself in the middle along a line of jagged-looking interlocking teeth. Jareth blinked, and Shmi leaned forward, peering through the widening gap. Then she stomped her foot and spun around, tromping noisily back down the steps.

"You're right. It's not a 'fresher,"

"Well, why would he need a 'fresher anyway?" Jareth asked.

"Don't be dumb. Everybody needs a 'fresher!" insisted Shmi. She started looking around again and ran to one end of the room, poking at another door, which turned out to be an empty closet.

Jareth raised his eyes to the ceiling, sighed, and walked to the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall as he watched her. At this point, he knew better than to argue. Ani and Vader had been in this room not very long ago. They couldn't be that far away yet. He didn't really want to leave Shmi alone in here, especially now that somebody was out there _shooting_ at the ship, so his only alternative was to wait until she either found a 'fresher or gave up.

His elbow struck something that he thought was going to be solid but gave as he touched it. Stiffening in surprise, he whirled around in time to see a small circular depression in the wall begin to turn. As it did so, a panel nearby slid over, revealing a hollow space where there should have been solid wall.

"Hey, what's this?" he frowned.

"Did you find the ''fresher?" Shmi asked, bounding over to him.  
"No, but look, aren't those…?" he trailed off, biting his lip.

She peered over his shoulder into the secret compartment, which was rectangular in shape and contained a small, sealed durasteel box. On the wall behind it were the crossed hilts of two lightsabers. Jareth had never seen either of them before, but he had a strong suspicion as to whose they were.

"Qui-Gon's and Uncle Luke's!" Shmi exclaimed, sidling roughly past him to grab for the weapons. As her fingers neared them, a faint blue ripple revealed the presence of a force field, and she jerked her hand back, shaking it to alleviate the sting.

"Nice going," Jareth sighed.

"Shut up," she snapped. "I bet I can turn that thing off."

"We ain't got time for that!" he said sharply.

She glared at him, but he shook his head stubbornly. Unlike Shmi, he didn't really like arguing, and most of the time he was content to let her have her way. This time, however, he wasn't going to give in. Finding a 'fresher was one thing. It would only take a few minutes, and he was sure that they could still catch up with Ani and Vader. It was quite a different matter for her to expect him to stand guard at Vader's door while she tried to short circuit the defenses on his treasure trove.

"Fine," she said at length, "but I bet I know how to get that box open right now, and I'm going to."

"It's Vader's!" he protested as she picked it up and began pressing buttons on the combination lock. "Just leave his stuff alone."

"Like those lightsabers are Vader's?" she asked with a self-righteous huff. "I bet he took all this stuff too."

"All what stuff? You don't even know what it is!" Jareth reminded her.

"I will in a second," Shmi said without looking at him. A second later, all the buttons lit up at once. She punched them again in a quick, authoritative sequence that was too involved for him to completely follow, and the lid sprung open. "See?"

"How'd you do that?" he asked, impressed despite himself.

"Han taught me," she explained smugly.

"Great," he rolled his eyes again.

She was intent on examining the contents of the box and not paying any attention, which was just as well. He had been determined not to look in with her, but his curiosity quickly got the better of him, and he reached in to pick up the small wooden necklace that he remembered as belonging to Shmi's Aunt Leia while she was cycling through the images in an old holocube.

"Okay," he admitted, stuffing the necklace into his pocket. "You were right about this. But I still think that belongs to Vader."

"No, look," she shook her head, holding the 'cube up to him. "These are my dad. That lady there is my grandma, and that little blonde girl is his cousin Pooja. I saw this one when we went to Naboo."

"That's Master Ani?" he blinked and stared at the image of chubby-cheeked human toddler with bright red hair.

"Yeah," Shmi said, pressing the button to switch the holoprojection. "See, the tall guy holding him in this one is…was…"

Jareth gulped. "Vader?"

"Yeah," Shmi said with a troubled frown. She went through the rest of the holos silently. Most of them seemed to show Ani on Naboo with members of the Naberrie family that Jareth didn't recognize. The 'cube had been damaged, though, and a few, including the first and last ones, showed only a spray of static. Once she was finished, she shoved it into her pocket and headed for the cabin door.

"Hey, what are you doing now?" Jareth cried, sprinting after her.

"I'm going to find my grandpa so I can give this back to him!"

"But it's not his!"

"I bet Vader took it from him!" she said.

"Shmi--wait--we should go in the vent…!"

* * *

"Looks like your father-in-law was here," remarked Hardy as he clomped and clanked down the shuttle ramp behind Isaly. With her hands bound somewhat awkwardly behind her back, she had a bit of trouble keeping her balance on the way down, so he kept one hand on her arm under the pretense of keeping her under a stricter level of restraint. He'd expected to have to bluster his way through at least the deck duty officer once they disembarked, but there was no one here to question their arrival.

He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the destruction evidenced in the hanger. On the one hand, he was sure that fellow officers had been injured or killed in the melee that had so recently occurred. He should have been incensed for their sakes--should have wanted to take revenge on the rebels who had dared to attack an Imperial starship. Yet this whole mess had started because Vader took a bunch of civilian hostages--two of them children. It would have been different if the Jedi had been the only captives. They were clearly enemies of the Empire and had to be dealt with without mercy. Isaly and the two kids were another matter, and he wasn't sure he liked what it said about Vader that they were being kept prisoner. It was obvious to him that they were being used as a way to coerce the young Jedi, and whether they ever should have been brought to Bespin or not, those kind of tactics invited retaliation. If the rebels hadn't tried to save their own in this case, it wouldn't be just a fighting man they stood to lose…

"I told you," Isaly replied.

"Yeah, yeah. So here we are. How do we find the kids?" he grumbled.

"Is there a way we can find out where Ani's being held?" she asked. "Shmi and Jareth would have headed for him."

"How would they have found him?" Hardy asked.

"The can feel each other. In the Force. It's like there's a net connecting the whole family. Some of us can actively sense one another; the rest, like me, are just kind of one direction only. I don't have enough of a gift to feel them that way unless there's something seriously wrong, but my husband would know if anything ever happened to me," she explained.

"Y'know, that Force stuff gives me the creeps," he said, shaking his head.

"You get used to it," she said reassuringly.

"Not me, sister," he retorted, a bit more sharply than he'd planned. He winced a little, regretting the rebuke, but ultimately decided that it was better for to get his point across. He was sure she was still hoping he'd help her escape, but that was a line he wasn't about to cross.

"Okay," Isaly replied in a disinterested tone.

"Oh, come on," Hardy complained.

"What do you mean, 'come on'?" she asked.

"Like you really don't care whether I want to know more about your family and your Jedi hocus pocus," he replied.

"Look, all I care about right now is _finding_ my family, Hardy. You can have whatever opinion of us you want as long as you aren't holding a blaster on someone I love," she said firmly.

"Which brings us back to the original question. How do we find them? I don't have security access to the _Executor's_ computer system," he told her.

"Well, do you know where the brig is? We could just head there and start looking or something," she suggested.

"Oh, a stormtrooper and a Rebel prisoner snooping around the brig together. That won't attract any attention at all!" he scoffed.

"Well, I don't have any better ideas--" Isaly began to say, but she was cut off mid-sentence by the chirping of an astromech droid which rolled out from behind some toppled supply crates where it had been hiding.

"Oh, great, now look what you did!" Hardy exclaimed.

"What--well--wait a minute, I think it's on our side!" Isaly told him.

"Yeah, which side would that be?" Hardy cracked.

"Very funny, Hardy. You know what I meant!" Isaly huffed back at him.

"Look, we don't have time to stand here debating who owns the droid--"

"No, we don't," Isaly interrupted, edging past him to address the droid herself. "I'm Isaly Kenobi. You're here with Obi Wan, aren't you?"

The droid beeped and chattered something that must have been an affirmative, because it began rocking from side to side happily as it extended its claw arm toward the woman in front of it. Hardy was surprised to see it carrying a comlink, but Isaly broke into a grin.

"See? I told you!"

"Would you stop saying that!" Hardy grumbled.

Isaly shook her head in exasperation and held out her hand to the droid. "May I borrow that?"

The droid gave her the comlink, then made a rude at noise at Hardy and quickly rolled back out of his reach. Isaly made a poor attempt at stifling her laughter as she pressed the send button. "Dad?"

"Isaly?" a woman's voice replied half a second later. "Where are you?"

"Leia?" Isaly cried excitedly. "Where are you?"

"We're trying to find Ani," the princess replied.

"So are we!" Isaly told her.

"Are the kids with you??" Leia exclaimed.

"No, we thought they'd be with Ani by now!" Isaly tensed, her tone growing more fearful.

"Well, who's with you? It's not Luke," Leia wanted to know.

"Um. A friend I made along the way. It's kind of complicated," Isaly bit her lip, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"You can say that again," Hardy agreed.

"Shut up, Hardy," Isaly ordered. "Leia, do you know where Ani is?"

"Dad says he's stuck in an elevator with Vader," responded her sister-in-law.

"I don't believe it!" Isaly cried.

"Listen, do Kenobi rescues always go this well?" Hardy asked sardonically.

"Just wait," Isaly replied. "If I know our dad, this is only the beginning."


	200. Meeting Up and Letting Go

By the time that Jareth caught up, Shmi was already standing at the door to the turbolift. The contents of their pockets, which had been of such pressing importance when she left Vader's quarters, slipped from her mind with the sudden resurgence of an earlier priority. Trying to keep from bouncing around because she still hadn't found a 'fresher, she shot him an impatient look. "What took you so long?"

"I didn't know which way you went," he panted, bending over with his hands on his knees.

"What'samatter? Can't keep up with a girl?" she giggled.

"Most girls, sure. Just not the crazy kind," he retorted.

"Thank you," she grinned cheekily.

"Kenobis," he muttered.

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" she demanded, planting her fists on her hips.

"What does it sound like it means?" Jareth fired back.

Shmi's mouth popped open in surprise, then clamped shut and opened again as she drew a breath for a reply. Before she could actually formulate one, though, the elevator door opened, and they turned, both intent on being the first one to dash inside. They stopped short at the sight of the two black-clad men in their path.

"Daddy!"

"Master Ani!"

They raced for the rumpled looking Jedi Knight, but Vader's arms swooped down to catch them both by their collars. He hefted them off the ground as easily as if he were lifting a couple of pillows, leaving both of them kicking and squirming to get down. After a few fruitless moments of this, Shmi gave up, realizing that if he'd intended to actually hurt them, Ani would have interfered.

"Um. Hi, Uncle!" she smiled, offering him the cutest wave she could muster.

"Oh, that's gonna work," Jareth grumbled.

"Got a better idea?" Shmi asked from the corner of her mouth.

"Not really, no…"

"Enough!" boomed Vader, scaring both kids into sudden and complete silence.

"Uncle Anakin, they're only children," Ani attempted in a placating tone.

Vader ignored him, demanding, "What is the meaning of this intrusion?"

"Well, I don't suppose you'd believe we got lost looking for the 'fresher?" Shmi asked hopefully.

"Really lost," Jareth nodded firmly.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Vader thundered.

"No, really, Uncle. I have to go!" she pleaded earnestly.

"You probably don't want to take a chance she's lying about this one," advised Ani.

Vader let out a kind of grumbling sigh in response, which Shmi took as a sign of acquiescence. Raising her eyes to the ceiling in a gesture of thanks to the Force, she spotted a large hole in the ceiling. The edges of it were blackened, as if burnt through with a lightsaber. She peered behind the Dark Lord's back and found a big hunk of debris on the floor that must have been cut from the ceiling. She frowned and looked at her father, who was actually still carrying his lightsaber. She would have expected Vader to take that away from him if he was a prisoner.

"Daddy?" she ventured, biting her lip thoughtfully.

"What, Little One?" Ani asked.

"Why is there a hole in the ceiling?"

"Well--its--kind of a long story," Ani coughed.

"Oh. Daddy?"

"What?"

"Does it have anything to do with why you have a lightsaber?" she inquired with careful politeness.

"Oh, ya think?" Jareth quipped.

"You be quiet. I'm talking to Daddy," Shmi told him.

"Shows how much you know," he scoffed, ignoring her injunction to keep his opinions to himself.

"What?"

"That's not a lightsaber anyway," he said, pointing at the weapon that dangled from her father's belt.

"It looks like a lightsaber to me," she said skeptically.

"It's a saberstaff, know-it-all," he smirked.

Ani rubbed his eyes wearily. "Jareth, I thought I told you to stay on the ship."

"Oh. Right. Well--uh--I did, Master. But then Shmi was in trouble. I figured you'd'a been mad at me if I let your daughter get hurt," he explained winningly.

"And then he fell so we got caught," Shmi finished smugly.

"It was an _accident!_" Jareth insisted.

"And then what happened?" sighed Ani.

"Well…then…we decided to come and rescue you, Master!" the boy beamed. Shmi nodded in vigorous agreement and grinned along.

The right side of Ani's mouth lifted in a tired half-smile. "Well, I appreciate the effort. Next time--"

"There will not be a next time," declared Vader as the turbolift came to a stop. The doors opened a bit more sluggishly than Shmi expected, and he strode off into the hallway with the kids still dangling from his hands.

"So, there is a 'fresher somewhere around here, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him.

"There is one in your father's--" began Vader when the ship gave another lurch under the impact of whatever was shooting at them. Shmi felt Vader's fingers loosen and release her as he lost his balance and toppled forward onto the metal floor. She saw Jareth execute some kind of feline flip in midair and land on his feet, and she was so distracted by the maneuver that she had no time to soften her own impact. She thudded into the floor on her stomach, and all the air rushed out of her lungs in an explosive woosh.

Before she had even recovered enough to get to her knees, Jareth ran over and bent down to lock his hand around her wrist. Roughly, he hauled her to her feet and half-dragged her down an adjacent corridor. She expected to hear Vader bellowing at them to stop, but it seemed that he was too busy trying to pick himself off the floor. She half stumbled and half ran along with Jareth, who ploughed through a set of open doors into another passageway.

"I hope… you… know where… we're going," she panted.

"No idea! Just run!"

_The hangar!_ two voices spoke urgently into her thoughts. _Shmi, head for the hangar!_

* * *

Isaly rounded a corner and almost collided head on with Obi Wan. The Jedi halted and pulled back just enough to keep them smacking heads, and his hands went quickly to her shoulders. She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. He hugged her tightly for a long moment, then she felt his body tense and drew back to find Leia and Hardy each with a blaster rifle pointed at the other. Hurriedly, she jumped between them, holding out her hands to either side.

"No! Leia, this is Hardy. It's all right, he's on our side," she said.

"This the friend you mentioned?" Leia asked, cautiously lowering her weapon as Hardy did the same.

"Yeah. Like I said, it's a long story," nodded Isaly.

A faint smile twitched across her sister-in-law's mouth. "Well, that's a Kenobi tradition, isn't it?"

"Guess it is," Isaly smiled as well. "Where are we going?"

"I just told Shmi to meet us in the hangar bay. Dad says that the kids are between there and us, so if we head that way, we ought to run into them whether they can find it or not," explained Leia.

"What about Ani??" Isaly cried worriedly.

"It's all right, darling," Obi Wan assured her. "He'll know where we are. So will Vader, but with any luck Ani will be able to get away from him and reach the hangar first.

"Then it becomes a question of finding something to fly out of here in," Leia added.

"Hardy and I came in by shuttle. It's still there, and I don't think anyone has reason to suspect a Rebel coup. Yet, anyway," Isaly smiled grimly.

"All right, then that settles that problem," said Obi Wan briskly, edging around Isaly to start down the corridor she had just run up. "Hurry, it won't be long before we have company."

"You should have had it already," Hardy spoke up.

Obi Wan half turned and raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, I know."

"All right, come on," Leia urged as her father started off again. Isaly immediately followed her, but Hardy didn't move. She spun around again, beckoning for him to follow.

"Let's go, we're wasting time!" she called.

"Sorry, Isaly. This is where we part ways," he shook his head.

"What?" she felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. "Hardy, no!"

"One way or another, Vader's gonna know the kids are here now. No reason for me keep following you around," he said.

"Yes, there is! He's still going to kill you if you stay here!" she cried, hands curling into fists.

"That's my problem, not yours. Get out of here before you run into a stormtrooper," he said, moving forward to hand her his blaster. She resisted for a heartbeat or two, then reluctantly took it. Then he turned and began walking in the opposite direction.

"Hardy!" she called after him. She wasn't sure he would even turn around, but something in her voice must have told him that she wouldn't try to change his mind. He paused and swiveled his body back around to face her. She felt her eyes fill with hot tears and furiously blinked them back, wishing that she could speak to something other than the faceless helmet again. Sighing softly, she shook her head and said, "May the Force be with you."

He raised his hand toward his forehead in a light, two-fingered salute, then spun on his heel and strode away. Isaly stared at the ceiling to avoid looking at his retreating back, waited for it to stop wavering and glistening with the tears she was determined not to shed, and then ran after Obi Wan and Leia.

"I'm sorry, Isaly," Obi Wan said as she caught up.

"Vader's going to kill him," she said.

"Well, you did everything you could," he promised, apparently having already pieced together the circumstances which had brought the stormtrooper into the Kenobi fold. "You can't force him to come with us."

"I know," she nodded. "He has to choose his own path. I just--damn Sidious and his Sith dogma. It's infected the stormtroopers too. As long it keeps holding them, I don't see how we'll ever be completely rid of the empire."

"We'll worry about that once we've eliminated the head of the beast," he told her.

"It will be too late for my friend by then, Dad."

"I know," he said. The words were harder than she expected, but not without empathy. She smiled a little, realizing that this was the side of him she had only heard about in old war stories: General Kenobi, who understood the cost of war and the pain of losing a friend better than any man should have to. There was another part to his statement, which he left unsaid, but a brief glance at Leia told Isaly that she also heard it just as clearly. _It will be too late for my friend, too._

_Not if I can help it, Dad,_ Isaly promised him silently. Ani had already had two days to begin putting their plan in motion. It would hardly be enough time, but she knew better than to think that her husband would be willing to give up. She wouldn't either--and from now on, it wouldn't be only for Ani's sake. Someone, somewhere, had to take a stand against Palpatine. Otherwise he would go on forever, destroying lives generation after generation, and causing untold suffering for no better reason than that he could. Isaly wasn't a warrior or a politician, and she never would be. She was, however, a Kenobi, and this was a Kenobi battle.


	201. The Best Laid Plans

Leia stopped short as a purple cylinder of energy materialized around her. She looked from side to side in surprise, then cast a worried glance at her father, who's expression was suddenly grim. Isaly, who was directly behind them, went wide-eyed with fright. Obi Wan nodded to himself in a gesture of oddly ironic understanding.

"All right, Anakin…" he muttered under his breath.

"What, Dad?" Isaly asked.

"Nothing, nevermind."

"What are we going to do now?" Leia asked. "I didn't even know these things _had_ ray shields!"

"Tell Nobby to get down here," he told her.

"All right," Leia shook her head dubiously as she fished the comlink off of her belt. "Nobby, this is Leia. We need some help."

The droid chirped a quick acknowledgement. Leia glanced toward the ceiling, saw nothing but the glaring light of the shields, and clenched her teeth in frustration. Isaly restlessly shifted her blaster rifle, but Obi Wan seemed unruffled by this turn of events. She could sense no surprise from him, either, even though she knew that he hadn't anticipated ray shields.

"Master?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow slightly as she addressed him.

"I should have known, that's all," he said. "It'll be all right. Nobby will be here in a moment and she'll release the ray shields. We'll be on our way."

"I hope she gets here before Vader," Isaly said.

"You can say that again," Leia agreed.

"Patience," Obi Wan advised automatically. Then he raised his hand slowly to massage his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

The sisters looked at one another worriedly, but before they could puzzle out what was bothering him, two doors opened up on either side of the hallway. Nobby came flying through one side, apparently taking the urgency of the situation very seriously if the rate at which she was moving could be any indication. Shmi and Jareth ploughed through the door on the opposite side, both screaming at the tops of their lungs. They were followed by a contingent of stormtroopers whom Leia guessed had spotted them on the way. The droid collided with Jareth, who fell backwards, tripping Shmi and causing her to topple forward over his shoulder when he landed on his backside. Nobby, her forward momentum broken but unable to stop herself, reversed direction and shot back through the door that she had just exited.

"Dad…?" Leia asked. "Do you have a Plan B?"

Obi Wan only raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed.

* * *

The Kenobis were kept in the ray shields until Vader arrived. The Dark Lord swept into the corridor with a disheveled Ani at his side. Jareth swallowed hard at the sight of him, and he heard Isaly let out an involuntary shriek of relief when she saw her husband alive and relatively unharmed. Obi Wan instructed Jareth and Shmi to stay behind him, and both children were quite content to do so, peeking around the Jedi Master's back to watch the goings on. With a gesture of Vader's right hand, the shields winked off. Obi Wan quickly stepped forward, holding his hands out, palms up in a gesture Jareth recognized from Ani's lessons as a sign of peaceful intent. The stormtroopers swarmed in, hustling the rest of the family to one side, but inexplicably, they left him alone.

"Anakin, I am here for my son. I won't fight you. Not again," Obi Wan began calmly.

"Then you will die, old man," the Sith pronounced.

"Dad, no!" Leia shouted.

"Uncle, you gave your word!" Ani cried, eyes widening as he took a quick step away from Vader.

"I warned you that your uncle was no more, boy," Vader replied casually as he drew his lightsaber from his belt.

Ani offered no response, but Jareth felt a wave of emotion consume his master. Some of it he couldn't really identify, but he recognized grief and guilt; bitter sorrow; and then finally the placid acceptance of a Jedi Knight. All of this washed over the boy in an eyeblink. Then Ani and Leia both shot into the air. There was a flash of metal and the two airborne forms, one black and one white, crossed one another to land on opposite sides of Obi Wan. Ani held the green half of his saberstaff while Leia now wielded the blue. Both blades came down in an X directly in front of their father, cutting Vader off from him.

The Jedi Master blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry, Dad. All three of us have standing orders," Leia smiled.

Ani waved his free hand, and the stormtroopers on one side Jareth fell back. Isaly expected the opening and swooped in to grab Shmi, but Jareth wriggled away from her, determined to remain at his Master's side. With no time to waste, Isaly tucked her daughter kicking and screaming under one arm and started to run.

"Jareth, come with me, now!" she yelled over her shoulder.

"I'm staying with my Master!" he insisted hotly.

"Jareth! Get to the ship!" Ani ordered.

"No, Master!" he stood his ground firmly.

Suddenly, though, white armored hands reached out for him, and before he could get away, he found himself hefted off the ground and stuffed roughly under the arm of a stormtrooper in much the same way that Shmi was pinned by her mother. The stormtrooper threw off his helmet with his other hand and charged after Isaly, yelling as he went about crazy kids and Kenobis being the death of him one way or another.

"Hardy…?" Jareth twisted around, trying to get a better look at his captor.

"Who else?"

He caught a glimpse of Obi Wan racing up the hall behind them, chased by stormtroopers and deflecting their blaster bolts back on them with his lightsaber. Then he flopped down, unable to maintain the weird and uncomfortable position any longer. As he did, he saw another man, this one dressed in a rebel uniform, running toward them from the hangar.

"Uncle Luke!" Shmi shouted as Hardy and Isaly skirted the newcomer to keep moving.

Jareth twisted again, trying to keep one eye on what was happening behind them. Luke skidded to a halt and drew a blaster, ready to help Obi Wan, but the Jedi Master calmly waved him ahead. "Go help your brother and sister. I'll be right back."

* * *

"Okay…" Luke said dubiously. He didn't like the idea of leaving his father, but he was well aware of who was with his siblings at the far end of the hall. Vader was clearly a much more serious threat than the stormtroopers, and since Obi Wan appeared to have the situation in hand, he ran on, returning the blaster pistol to his belt as he moved.

As the clatter of running feet rounded a corner and faded away, the squeal of clashing lightsabers met his ears. He reached down, his fingers closing on the hilt of his new lightsaber, and he felt icy fear begin to rise in his throat. He swallowed hard on it, dashing toward Ani and Leia.

When he reached them, the hallway was alive with the Force. Hunks of debris—paneling torn from the walls and ceiling, holorecorders ripped from their wall-mounts, scaffolding, even a droid which had somehow managed to get caught in the melee—flew between the Jedi and the Sith. Loose cables and wiring hissed and crackled. Sparks flew as the combatants moved to cut down incoming projectiles with their glowing blades.

Vader was slowly but steadily driving Ani and Leia back. He was outnumbered, but Ani had been badly injured. His blocks and parries were slow, and Leia was expending too much energy in trying to compensate and protect her brother. Obi Wan had been training her mainly in Soresu, which was a defensive form of combat in any case. Vader expected this, and he was both the more experienced swordsman and the one being in the galaxy who knew Obi Wan's fighting style better than Obi Wan himself. Luke rushed in while at the same moment, Ani leapt backward and spun left to avoid a hunk of wall paneling that Vader had just ripped off to hurl at him.

The older brother fell as the younger stepped in to block the fall of the red blade. Keeping his eyes steadily on the face of their adversary, Luke allowed a faint smile to touch is lips. Vader moved his sword hand slowly upward, and Luke followed the motion, edging forward to push the Sith away from Ani.

"Sorry I'm late," he said to his sister.

"Looks like you're right on time," she replied.

Behind them, Ani slowly got to his feet, and the three siblings spread out, leaving Luke at point while Ani and Leia flanked Vader. He drifted back, aware that the odds had suddenly shifted out of his favor. The Kenobis cautiously tightened their ranks, well aware of who and what they were dealing with. A quick look passed between Ani and Leia, and Luke felt the Force tug his awareness toward the center of the hall. He didn't move his gaze from the Dark Lord's mask, certain that if he took the time to find out what Ani had in mind, Vader would discover it as well.

"Uncle Anakin," Ani's began in a soft, gentle tone that seemed utterly incongruous with the lightsaber in his hand. "It doesn't have to end like this again. We don't have to do this."

"You are more a fool than your father ever was," Vader rebuffed coldly.

"That is probably the highest compliment you could pay me," Ani smiled tiredly.

As they spoke, Vader lashed out with his lightsaber, using quick thrusts and jabs to keep the Jedi from cornering him. He angled his back toward the center of the hall where logic must have told him that he couldn't be pinned or hemmed in by the walls of the corridor. The Kenobis progress was slow, hindered by both the lightsaber and the chunks of flotsam that their enemy continued to fling at them with the Force, but gradually, they inched the Sith Lord over to where Ani and Leia seemed to want them.

Luke quickly stepped back, and he saw Ani's left hand flick upward in a furtive motion that suddenly caused a purple flare of energy. He wrinkled his nose in surprise and looked from one sibling to another. Vader, meanwhile, was swiveling his head in confusion.

"What?!" the Sith Lord roared.

"Ray shields," Leia explained to her twin.

"Thought you were smarter than this, my Uncle," Ani said with a tight smile as he thumbed off his lightsaber and returned it to his belt.

"I know they're ray shields," Luke said. "Where'd they come from?"

"He put them in for Dad," Ani explained. "Go on, get to the ship."

"What do you mean, 'get to the ship'" Leia stared at him.

"I'm staying," Ani said flatly.

Luke grit his teeth, shaking his head firmly at his brother. "We're all going, Ani."

"I gave him my word."

"He broke his half of that promise already!" Leia cried.

"It doesn't matter. My word is still my word," Ani shook his head.

"You're right, it doesn't matter!" Luke shouted, anger surging into his voice. "Anakin, I promised that I would bring you home to your sons, and that's what I'm going to do!"

"We all go, Ani, or we all stay! That's the Kenobi way!" Leia's voice rose hotly to support him.

"All but him?" Ani flung an arm angrily toward Vader. "No. I will not leave my uncle to Sidious again! I am staying until this is finished one way or another."

"Ani, if I have to carry you out of here--" Luke began, but the statement was cut off by the sound of blaster fire behind them. Ani crumpled to the ground, and the twins turned in shock to see Isaly and Obi Wan.

Isaly lowered the blaster, tears streaming her cheeks, and Obi Wan said in a quiet tone. "We all go. Now."


	202. Sleeping Sun

Padme felt a new kind of tension in the family after the rescue. On the one hand, everyone was relieved and happy to have Ani and the children back unharmed. The reunion between Ani, Isaly, and the twins was purely joyous, but everyone still keenly felt loss of Han. Isaly's new friend Hardy had been incarcerated as soon as the ship landed. He and Obi Wan had expected as much and tried to prepare Isaly, but as days crept on and Hardy was not released, a rift began to form between her and Obi Wan. He felt that using his influence to secure the stormtrooper's release would be an abuse of power; she felt that not doing so was a betrayal of the family's ideals. Both of them were right, which put Padme in a rather uncomfortable position, and she had no immediate answer to the problem. Meanwhile, Leia and Shmi were now determined to join Chewie and Lando in their search for Han. A quiet sort of broodiness settled over Ani, but Padme could feel the brewing pain and anger beneath it. Vader's cruelty toward him had been a devastating emotional blow for the young Jedi, and it was now coupled with the knowledge that his fragile rapport with Anakin might be permanently broken. He understood why Isaly had done what she did, and although he forgave her, he seemed unable to get beyond the fact that his father had allowed the shooting. The only one who seemed able to settle back into the pattern of life in the Rebel Fleet was Luke, who stepped into the role of Rogue Leader with a smooth and ready maturity that pleased his mother.

It was understandable, though. He had come into his own as a Rebel pilot and this life was as intricately bound up with his adult life as running the farm was with Ani's or political service was with Leia's. What surprised her was the ease with which he seemed to accept the legacy of the Jedi Order now. He hadn't spoken much about it, but it quickly became clear to her that he had experienced some kind of personal revelation while his brother was gone.

When the growing strain in the family began to break down into squabbling, she decided to enlist his help in repairing the widening cracks. She caught up with him on his way out of a briefing, and as he slowed his pace to allow her to fall into step beside him, she looked into the blond, blue eyed face of the Rebel Commander and felt a sudden wave of nostalgia for the boy he'd been.

He slipped his arm around her, smiling as they walked. "What's the matter, Mom?"

"Nothing," she shook her head. "I wanted to talk to you about what's been going on with your brother and Dad."

Luke drew in a breath and gave a slow nod. "I can't blame Ani for how he feels, but Dad only did what he had to do. I'm surprised he can't see that."

"He probably can. I think his feelings for Anakin confuse him, and he's angry because he doesn't think your father understands why he wanted to stay," Padme said.

"Of course Dad understands," Luke sighed. "But none of us were going to leave without Ani. I'd promised the boys, and Dad promised you. Isaly wasn't about to leave her husband—besides, he's not ready to confront Palpatine. He knows that."

"I know," agreed Padme. "I think he feels pulled between Anakin and your father. Ever since we left Tatooine, he's had to keep placing himself between them, and he hates being set against his uncle again and again. The only thing that's really made it bearable for him is that he and Obi Wan…well…"

"They understood each other," Luke finished for her. "They'd both lost the same thing—the same person—and they were both Jedi."

Padme closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, nodding. Luke sighed again. He ducked his head thoughtfully and said nothing for a while. His mother waited, restraining the urge to reach forward and brush back the hair that tumbled into his face. Finally, he raised his head again and looked at her with a troubled frown.

"I'll talk to him, Mother, but I don't know if it'll help. Ani can be stubborn when he wants to be," he said.

Padme smiled with a touch of irony. "That seems to be a family trait."

"Yeah, I guess," Luke smiled back.

"You don't have to fix it, son," she told him. "Just give Ani a little push in Dad's direction. They'll work it out themselves. And if they don't, I'm going to ask Lando for a little favor."

"Lando?" Luke raised his eyebrow sharply. "Favor? What favor?"

"Never you mind," Padme said, giving his cheek a knowing pat.

"You know what, Mom, it's probably better I don't know," he decided.

"Probably," she winked.

"Well, what about Isaly and Hardy?" he asked. "I don't really think anyone's going to be too eager to have him around, even if Dad could get him released. And I'm not entirely sure he should."

"Luke, he didn't have to help us get the kids out of there," Padme pointed out.

"I know, but that doesn't mean he's suddenly changed his loyalties," Luke's brow furrowed.

Padme tilted her head and peered up at him. "What if we were talking about Mara Jade?"

"I—" Luke started, but he quickly broke off and lowered his gaze, giving an acquiescent nod.

"Isaly's instincts are no less valuable than your Jedi skills. She trusts him," Padme reminded him.

"The question is, does he trust us?" Luke asked, looking up at her.

"You have a point," admitted Padme. "And that gives me an idea…"

* * *

The stormtrooper was still dressed in the black body glove that he'd had on underneath his armor. He lay on the cot in his cell with his fingers laced behind his head and only flicked his eyes briefly toward the Rebel officers as they unlocked the door. The bored expression shifted, betraying surprise and curiosity as Obi Wan moved inside after them. He moved to his feet with quick yet unhurried grace, and stood at attention.

"I'm not here to interrogate you, Hardy," Obi Wan said with a half smile.

His eyes moved to the two guards, who hadn't left as they usually did. The cell door was still open, and he frowned at the Jedi Master in consternation. "What's going on?"

"You're being released on recognizance," Obi Wan explained.

"Really," Hardy's eyebrow rose, his posture relaxing into something that was not quite sullen. "And is that supposed to mean something to me? Earn my trust?"

"No," replied Obi Wan with a hard look. "It's supposed to keep you out of trouble. Now let's go."

A harsh smile twisted the soldier's lips, but he fell into step behind the general as Obi Wan exited the cell. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because my wife and daughter-in-law asked me to," replied Obi Wan without looking back.

* * *

Luke paused in the doorway to the empty briefing room, a worried frown creasing his forehead. The Force had led him here when he went in search of his brother, but the room was dark. He could make out Ani's still, black-clad form by the transparisteel viewport in the far wall. He was barely visible, and if Luke hadn't known where to look for him, he wouldn't have picked out the shape at all. He pursed his lips as he walked inside, slowly approaching the Jedi Knight. Ani didn't turn to look at him, but his posture shifted slightly in acknowledgement.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked.

Ani lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Looking. Thinking. I just wanted someplace quiet."

"What are you thinking about?" inquired Luke.

"What to do now," answered his brother.

"What do want to do?"

"I don't know. We promised Yoda that we would return to Dagobah and finish what we started there, but now Han's gone. He's family. I can't leave him in Boba Fett's hands any more than you or Leia can. And I can't give up on Uncle Anakin either," Ani said carefully.

"No one expects you to, Ani," Luke said. "You know, the rest of us want to help him too."

"I hadn't gotten that impression lately," Ani remarked harshly.

"Look, Ani," Luke sighed. "I know it's different for you because you knew him during the Clone Wars, but I grew up the same way you did. Hearing all about Anakin Skywalker, the hero. Leia did too before she left for Alderaan, and she remembers it now. We believed in him, too, and we've both had enough run-ins with Vader to know that there _is_ something left of Anakin in there. Mom and Dad have never stopped grieving for him. Isaly may not be sure about whether we can save him, but she's spent the last three years helping you because she's part of this family, and this is _our_ fight. Not just yours. And if you think Dad doesn't understand how you feel about Uncle Anakin—well—that's not your brother in the Vader suit, is it?"

Ani stiffened, taking a half step back. He jerked his gaze away, but Luke saw his jaw clench and heard the clack of his teeth as he bit back an angry retort. The younger brother simply stood there, passively waiting, but making it clear with the implacable stillness of a Jedi that he did not intend to give ground. Again, Ani started to say something and rejected it, then finally only shook his head in frustration.

When it was clear his brother wouldn't speak, Luke continued, "We didn't have time to stand there arguing with you, Ani. We all would have been captured again if we'd waited. You didn't break your word to Uncle because leaving wasn't your choice."

"It should have been!"

"Well, it wasn't. You're going to have to accept that. It can't be changed. Isaly and Dad both did only what they had to do. You can't punish them for that," Luke told him firmly.

"I'm not!" Ani's eyes snapped back to Luke's face, his expression reflecting the genuine shock that his brother could sense through the Force.

"Aren't you?" Luke questioned, raising an eyebrow gently. "You've hardly spoken to our father. When you have, everyone around you can sense your anger. You feel betrayed."

"I—" Ani began, then broke off again, drawing a long, shaky breath. "I don't think I'm going to be able to convince Uncle that it wasn't my choice. And the fact that Dad allowed it is just going to make it more difficult. He had to know that."

"Yes he did," Luke said without flinching. "That doesn't change the reality that we couldn't leave you there, Ani. You said yourself that you're not ready to face Palpatine."

"Uncle Anakin would not have turned me over to the Emperor," Ani shook his head.

"Dad couldn't take that chance. There is too much at stake. And you are his son. Would you have left one of your children behind for the Emperor to get a hold of?"

"Of course not."

"Well, then how can you expect our father to have done so?"

"It's not that simple. I'm not a child. I'm a Jedi Knight," Ani insisted.

Luke nodded. "Yes. And this is not the Jedi way."


	203. One Solemn Red Line

Ani wasn't quite surprised to find Hardy at the dinner table with his family that night. Somehow, he'd suspected that his mother would find a way to bridge the gap between Obi Wan and Isaly without forcing either of them to compromise fundamental principles. He bowed to the stormtrooper and silently slipped into his place beside Isaly, who leaned in to kiss his cheek. His smile was a touch hesitant, but her answering one was genuine, and he sensed that she was eager to let go of the lingering tension between them. He returned the kiss by way of agreement, and felt a distinct wave of relief pass through the assembled members of the family.

"Dad, are you busy after dinner?" he asked, turning to Obi Wan.

"No, son," the Jedi Master replied with a shake of his head. They held one another's gaze for a moment longer, and the cold tightness in Ani's chest finally began to dissolve.

The meal passed quietly enough after that. Conversation was mostly of the light and innocuous variety. Minor arguments that broke out at the table were the good natured sort that characterized most of the family's mealtime interactions. Han's absence created a significant hole in the group, especially for Leia. Ani could also feel Hardy's considerable discomfort with the Kenobis, and he was sure that his siblings were aware of it as well. He caught a brief exchange of glances between them which said that they, too, read the stormtrooper's feelings as a rather uncomfortable parallel to Han's initial reaction to the family environment. Isaly clasped his fingers once under the table, and Shmi was unusually quiet. Padme did her best to keep the mood at the table pleasant, and with Obi Wan and Bail to help her, she succeeded admirably. The Kenobis all knew well enough that trying to make Hardy feel more at ease would actually have the opposite effect, and he put on quite the show of being perfectly content—in an annoying, contentious kind of way—so no one actually called attention to the situation.

Luke and Ani volunteered to clear off the dinner dishes, and while Isaly and Padme brought out dessert, Obi-Too suddenly jumped up from the table, exclaiming that he'd forgotten to give the holocube back to Shmi. Junior, Shmi, and Jareth all clambered to their feet as well, and the kids dashed away from the table before any of the adults could stop them. Still on their feet, Ani and Isaly exchanged confused glances and started after them, but no sooner had they reached the door to the twins' bedroom when the gaggle of children all came pouring back out, ducked under and around them, and ran to the kitchen. The bewildered parents followed them in time to see Shmi excitedly present Obi Wan with an old 'cube.

"The boys fixed it, Grandpa," she beamed. "A couple of the holos weren't working anymore. They're still kind of fuzzy, but…"

Obi Wan stared at the device in his hand for a moment, then his head shot up, eyes wide and bright with shock as he sought Ani's gaze. The Knight felt himself go cold and he swallowed hard, unable to move for several seconds. Isaly's hand slipped into his and she squeezed his fingers worriedly.

"Ani…?" her voice was soft and confused.

"What's the matter, Dad?" Shmi asked, looking worriedly back and forth between Ani and her grandfather.

Finally, Ani forced himself to step into the kitchen. Slowly moving to his daughter's side, he dropped to one knee and brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Little One, where did this come from?"

"Me and Jareth found it," she explained, frowning. "With Aunt Leia's necklace. We just…didn't say anything because we wanted to fix it before we gave it back to Grandpa."

Ani closed his eyes. "Oh, no."

"How…?" began Obi Wan, unsteadily as Padme hurried to his side. "How could it have survived?"

For a moment, Ani couldn't answer. He swallowed again, squeezing his eyes shut tighter against the onslaught of unwelcome memories. Smoke filled his nostrils, threatening to overwhelm him, but Isaly took his hand again, and he forced the remembered sensations, sounds, and smells back out of his consciousness.

"I was playing with it in his room that morning. I dropped it and it rolled behind a bunch of old droid parts he still had in there. We were going to Dex's, and he told me to just leave it. He'd find it when we got back. He…must've…gone back for it sometime after…after…"

Obi Wan sighed and nodded, thumbing it on. Tears filled his eyes at the sight of himself and Anakin Skywalker standing side by side. Anakin's arm was draped casually over his shoulders, and a bright smile dominated the Jedi Knight's handsome features.

"There were two of these, Little One," Obi Wan explained to his granddaughter. "I lost mine on Mustafar. This one belonged to…your Uncle Anakin."

Shmi gasped in alarmed understanding. "He didn't take it from you?"

"No," Obi Wan shook his head.

Shmi swallowed, turning to clutch Ani's hand. "Daddy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—!"

Ani pressed a reassuring kiss into her forehead. "We know, sweetheart."

"What are we going to do?!" she asked.

Ani smiled and reached for the 'cube. "We're going to make some copies. And I'm going to give this back. I don't know when, but I will. And I'll tell Uncle that we didn't mean to take anything from him."

* * *

It took some time for things to settle down after the holocube made its appearance. The children were both distraught over the thought of having done something to hurt Anakin and disappointed that their intended gift for Obi Wan had been met with such an unintended reaction. With the exception of Hardy, the adults felt much the same way, and once the kids had all been adequately reassured, no one was in the mood for casual conversation.

Dessert was cleared off largely untouched, and since the Kenobis were now rather pressed for space, Leia offered to let Shmi sleep on the couch in her quarters. This produced a flurry of protests from Jareth and the twins, so Leia extended her invitation to Jareth as well. Bail then suggested that Obi-Too and Junior could at least spend the night with him. The boys were more than pleased with this arrangement, since they had probably been more interested in making sure that Shmi wasn't being given special favors than they were in sleeping on the floor in their aunt's rooms.

Isaly was clearly upset by the way that her children seemed to gravitate more toward Leia and Bail than to her, and once the kids were gone, she and Ani left to spend about an hour walking the halls together. Padme and Obi Wan exchanged a silent, pained glance as they did so, but they knew that it would be best for the younger couple to work through these difficulties without parental interference. Both of them were more than aware of the reasons that Shmi and the twins felt more comfortable with Bail and Leia these days. Leia had been the most direct and present female influence in Shmi's life for the last three years. The two of them were the ones who felt Han's loss most keenly, and with Hardy here to exacerbate the pain of that loss, Shmi naturally felt the need for someplace she could get away. The habitual place had always been the Falcon, and Leia's quarters were now the closest thing she had to the ship. The twins' desire to be with Bail had as much to do with Bail's need for them as with any identification they felt with him. He'd been a fixture in their lives since Isaly brought them back to the fleet, much as he had been in Ani's early life during the Clone Wars. At the same time, since their medal presentation, they had given him a much needed sense of belonging to something other than the Rebellion, and their empathic sensitivity gave them an understanding of what they meant to him, even if only on an intuitive level. Raised in a family which placed such a profound emphasis on service and duty, they wanted to be useful. Being in close proximity to the leaders of the Rebel Alliance gave them a perspective on the war that, while unavoidable, was often troublesome to them no matter how much the adults attempted to shield them. There was little they could do to fight the Empire, which was to them a faceless and terrifying monstrosity that overshadowed everything around them. Often, there wasn't much that they could do to help their family and friends at all, but for Bail there definitely was. Then too, there was the simple fact that young children enjoyed the novelty of being allowed to spend the night at the home of an adult other than their parents, and despite all the things that made these particular children far too worldly-wise for their family's liking, they were still children. Of course none of that made things easier for Ani and Isaly tonight.

So Obi Wan and Padme waited patiently in the living room until they returned. With nothing else to do, Hardy waited with them. His mood alternated between silent broodiness and prickly antagonism, but eventually Padme was able to blunt the worst of his cantankerous resistance with the combination of firm gentility and cool authority that always served her so well in political settings. Despite himself, the stormtrooper began to respect the Senator of the fallen Galactic Republic, and her husband watched with a quiet, knowing smile, wisely choosing not to add his own voice to their discussion of the war. Of course, it wasn't really the war that Padme wanted to talk about, but it gave her a starting point, and debate was a more palatable option to their guest than friendly conversation. Obi Wan knew that it was not a great leap from the kind of grudging respect that Hardy showed his wife now to trust and friendship. The stormtrooper would have greater difficulty accepting _him_ as a member of the Jedi Order and a man who had fought against everything to which Hardy was loyal, so for the time being, he was content to be a silent presence and the compliment to his wife's more active attempts to engage the young man.

When Ani and Isaly returned, he rose from his chair and excused himself as unobtrusively as possible. Ani automatically followed him into the kitchen, while Isaly moved quite naturally and comfortably onto the couch beside her friend. Padme caught his eye as he turned away, and her left eyelid fluttered in what, to anyone else would have seemed like an involuntary motion. A trace of a smile passed over Obi Wan's lips, but he quickly turned away.

Ani noticed the exchange, of course, and once the two Jedi were alone, he crossed his arms and affixed his father with a mock-stern expression. "It's not very sporting of you to double team the poor man like that."

"I haven't done a thing," Obi Wan shook his head. "Your mother's done all the talking. I just sat and listened."

"Mm-hm," Ani said. "As water wears away stone, maybe."

Obi Wan smiled for a moment, then he pulled a chair back from the table and slid into it with a sigh. "It's not as if we have a viable alternative."

"I suppose you're right," Ani agreed, sinking into the opposite chair. He templed his fingers in front of his lips and studied his father for a long, silent moment. Then he dropped his hands and took a breath. "I owe you an apology."

"It's all right, Ani," Obi Wan said softly.

Another, longer silence fell as the two men prepared themselves for the coming discussion. Obi Wan had known that whatever would take place between Ani and Vader would not be pleasant and that it would have lasting consequences for both of them. Still he had not imagined that the encounter would have come so close to causing a real rift between them. The worst of it was that both of them understood that _creating_ such a division was one of Vader's primary goals, and yet they had barely avoided the pitfall.

"Are you all right?" Ani asked.

Obi Wan blinked in surprise at the turn of his son's thoughts, but he didn't have to ask what had prompted the question. The holocube had taken both of them by surprise and brought painful memories and regrets to the surface at a time when their feelings were already raw from grief and loss. Slowly, the Jedi Master shook his head.

"No, I'm not."

"Me neither," Ani admitted. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You're already doing everything you can," smiled his father.

"Okay," Ani sighed with a reluctant nod.

"What happened?" Obi Wan asked.


	204. Living To Tell The Tale

"He wouldn't listen to me, Dad," Ani said, massaging his brow with the tips of his fingers. He spoke slowly, choosing each statement with precise care. Obi Wan waited with an air of infinite patience, the attitude of a Jedi. Ani recognized and appreciated it as he sought for words that would encompass the levels of emotional and psychological—not to mention physical, battle that he had waged with Darth Vader for Anakin Skywalker's soul. "You know I didn't expect it to be easy. I had no illusions that I could undo decades of Sith teaching and paranoia in such a short time. I really didn't know if I could _undo_ it at all. But I always believed that if I could get him alone long enough he would listen. I just couldn't get him to trust me, no matter what I said or did."

"Because I lied to him," Obi Wan sighed, nodding.

"You. Mom. Mace," Ani shook head in frustration.

"Mace?" Obi Wan frowned.

"Not directly," explained Ani. "But Master Windu asked him to spy on the Chancellor. Executing a prisoner without trial is a violation of the Jedi ethic, and Mace was supposed to be modeling Jedi behavior to him as his Master. No. Nevermind that, he was just supposed to be modeling Jedi behavior period. It boils down to the same thing. He was misled and betrayed by the people to whom he should have been able to look for guidance and example. The fact that you and Mom were his friends on top of that—and I guess, the closest thing he had to family after his mother died—it just made it that much more significant."

"And, you and I are not that very different in our philosophy and attitudes," finished Obi Wan, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"He sees you when he looks at me. I take that as a compliment, but it really doesn't make it very easy for me to get through to him. He's already paranoid, and the suit makes him feel vulnerable. I'm sure you can imagine how well he reacts to someone who actually understands those things," Ani said.

"Yes, I can," Obi Wan said. "Did you make any progress with him at all?"

"Well, I got him to let me show him some of the pain blocking techniques that Isaly and I worked out. It may help him, but—Dad, he can't use the Force without the pain-anger gestalt to give him focus. He can't meditate," Ani said. "It's like there's…too much energy and nowhere for it to go."

"It was always difficult for him. That's why he used the moving meditation so much," Obi Wan agreed.

"Well, I might have been able to help him if I'd had more time. You didn't see what happened, but…he let us put him in the ray shields," Ani said sadly. Even a few hours ago, he would have said it with resentment, but Luke had punctured his welling pride and self-centeredness, and those feelings had been slowly draining off. In their wake he was weary, and he could sense the same in his father.

"What?" Obi Wan blinked in astonishment.

"I'd made a bargain with him. He was supposed to let Isaly and the kids go with you when you came to rescue them, and in return I said that I would remain with him. I don't know whether or not he would have made good on his end of it if he'd actually had to give an order for them to be released, but as it turned out, he didn't have to. There's no way he would have allowed himself to be trapped so easily. He knew as well as I did where the shields were, and he's too good a swordsman to ever be unaware of his own positioning in a battle," Ani asserted.

"I think you're right," Obi Wan agreed slowly. "Did you know he was going to do it?"

"No, I just hoped that the twins and I could actually use the shields to trap him, but I didn't expect him to cooperate. I guess it was a plausible way for him to let you take the kids without appearing weak," Ani speculated.

"To you or to the Empire?" questioned his father.

"Maybe both. In either case, he never would have admitted that he let you go, so he saved face. But I knew, so should have stayed!" Ani shook his head fiercely.

"I'm sorry, son," Obi Wan murmured.

Ani winced. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You were right to let Isaly do what she did. I was endangering everyone, and if I turned out to be wrong and Uncle Anakin turned me over to Palpatine, you'd have ended up with another Sith on your hands. Whatever happens, I do not want to see my brother put into the same position that you were on Mustafar."

"I know you don't. It's the last thing in the galaxy I'd ever want to see, but I _am_ sorry. I'm sorry that you've had to go through all of this, and I'm even more sorry that my actions are still making it more difficult for you to reach Anakin," said Obi Wan. "Necessary or not, wounding him—or you—wounds me."

Sighing again, Ani scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'm beginning to wonder if this is all worth it."

"What?" his father's eyes went wide, his expression registering pure shock.

"Well, look at what's happening here. Look at what almost happened to us. Look at Isaly and my children!" Ani grit his teeth. "He's hurting all of them. Every single person who means anything to me is getting caught up in the backlash of my quest to save him—and he doesn't even want my help!"

"Are you going to give up?" asked his father softly.

Ani hung his head, and the fingers of his right hand curled into a fist on the cool surface of the table. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and slowly shook his head. Looking up at Obi Wan again, he gave the only answer there was to such a question.

"You know I can't. But I don't know what to do. I can't let it keep going on like this. The one thing I wanted to avoid was having my kids caught up in the war. I didn't want Shmi and the boys to see the kinds of things I saw in the temple siege. Now Vader's trying to drive wedges between all of us."

Obi Wan's brow creased in a troubled frown and he considered his response for a long time. When he finally spoke, the words were gentle and measured but with a subtle undertone of fatherly authority. "I don't have a satisfactory answer for you in regard to the children, Ani. In that respect, I think you're right. We all tried to shield them, and unfortunately we haven't been able to do so very well. Now we can only help them learn to cope and adjust, the same way that your mother and I did for you with Beru and Owen's help. It's not what we would have chosen for them, but we can't change it now. I can tell you that this family is far stronger than Vader gives it credit for."

"Yes, sir," Ani nodded.

"Perhaps it's time that you stopped thinking of this as 'your' quest to save him," Obi Wan went on.

"What?" frowned Ani.

"Look, I know why it's so important to you. I know better than anyone. But the rest of us still are invested too. Certainly your mother and I want to help Anakin as much as you do. I can't speak for Isaly or your brother and sister, but I'm willing to bet that they'll say the same thing."

Ani smiled. "Luke already did."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," Obi Wan replied with a half smile of his own.

Ani couldn't answer for a while. The need to save Anakin had been such an essential part of him since the Clone Wars ended that he found it difficult to accept the notion of his siblings, or even Isaly, having an equal stake in that pursuit. It was easier for him to process the idea of his parents being part of the task; they were already half the reason that he'd always felt the need to win his uncle back. The pain of losing him was theirs as much as his.

He understood that the rest of the family cared and wanted to help, but in Ani's mind their reasons were less personal. They had never known the man that Obi Wan called brother, and their concern had always seemed to be more based on their loyalty to the other members of the family than on the conviction that something of Skywalker remained beneath the Sith Lord's mask. Now, though, Luke said that he could sense Anakin's presence there as well—and this after Vader had taken his hand. He knew his brother well enough to realize that he had to be speaking from his heart, and the truth was that something had to change.

"I can't do it alone, Dad."

"Well, it's a good thing you don't have to," Obi Wan said quietly.

A flicker of a smile passed over Ani's lips, but it was followed by the return of a worried frown. "I just didn't expect it to be so easy for him to start dividing us."

"He used your feelings against you," said Obi Wan. "You've never been up against that sort of tactic before. You've never really faced someone who had more in mind than a physical confrontation."

"But I know what Sidious did to you two. I should have been more vigilant. I…"

"Ani, focus on the present. What might have happened if you'd allowed your anger at me to hold sway over your actions is irrelevant. You didn't. And you wouldn't have. You're letting Vader undermine your confidence in yourself," Obi Wan told him. "You are a Jedi Knight. And a better man than all that."

"I was angry at you and Mom even while I was still aboard the _Executor_," Ani confessed.

"I know," nodded his father. "That's why it was so easy for you to stay angry at me for what happened when we escaped."

Ani forced his hands not to curl into fists as he explained, "I kept thinking that if you two had just told him the truth when Mother got pregnant with the twins, and if you hadn't gone along with the Council's suggestion to use him as a means of spying on the Chancellor, I wouldn't be having this problem getting him to trust me now. That—none of it might have even happened. I know better than that! It's not a Jedi way of thinking!"

"No," Obi Wan shook his head gently. "It's a human one."

"But—"

"Do you think I've never had those thoughts?" asked Obi Wan. "Or that your mother hasn't?"

"I…" Ani stared at him, bewildered. "I…never thought about it before."

"Ani, if we'd let it, that sort of thinking would have destroyed us. As a couple, as parents, as people. We made a decision not to let that happen, and you can do the same thing. Because in the end, all of that, however much we might regret it, doesn't matter. Anakin was still responsible for his actions. Our mistakes may have helped Palpatine manipulate him, but turning to the Dark Side was his decision. You can either blame everyone else for it the way he does, or you can remind yourself of the truth and love him anyway," Obi Wan told him.


	205. Far Across The Sea

Curled up on the end of the couch, Shmi studied her aunt, who was bent over a datapad at the desk and seemed to have entirely forgotten her presence. She had tried reading earlier, too, but there wasn't much for kids in the princess's quarters, and she wasn't really in the mood to read anyway. She had found it difficult to concentrate since they got back to the fleet, so trying to make sense of adult reading material was just beyond her. What she really wanted was a message from Chewie and Lando, but at the same time, the thought of what such a message might contain made her stomach churn and clench up. Now on top of her anxiety over Han, she had to worry about how Vader was going to react when he discovered the holocube missing and whether her father was going to do something crazy and run off to return it.

Suddenly, Leia straightened and turned away from her desk. A frown creased her pretty forehead and she slipped out of her chair, moving quickly over to the couch. She wrapped a protective arm around Shmi, who wriggled closer and settled in the warmth of her side. Leia's finger traced gently over the contour of her cheek, and Shmi peered up at her, attempting a smile. Her aunt gave her a reassuring smile in return, and the two sat in silence for a while.

Shmi was glad that Leia didn't press her to talk. Her mother and grandmother both kept trying to draw her out, and Isaly had made an appointment for her with the twins' minder, which was sure to mean more long discussions. It was different with Leia, though. Both of them understood how the other felt, and there was no need to explain or struggle to put things into words that didn't really fit.

"I don't want to see Rei tomorrow," she said after a few minutes.

"I've met Rei," Leia said. "She's pretty nice."

"For a minder?" Shmi wrinkled her nose.

"Well, I think she's pretty nice in general," Leia told her.

"So how about we just invite her to breakfast or something?" suggested Shmi.

"Are you nervous?" Leia asked.

"No, I just don't want to talk to her," replied Shmi. "Sick of being poked."

"Who's been poking you?"

"Mommy and Grandma," she shrugged. "Daddy too, some, but mostly he's been too upset to notice anyone else being upset."

Leia sighed softly. "Yeah. Well, your mother and Grandma are just trying to help. And hopefully things will be better for Daddy now that he and Grandpa seem to be talking again."

"I know," Shmi nodded. "Doesn't mean I want to be poked, that's all."

"I don't either," Leia confided.

"I know," Shmi repeated with a conspiratorial smile. "Maybe we could both be gone tomorrow."

"I don't think so," Leia shook her head.

"Well, you can't blame me for trying," Shmi said resignedly.

"I guess I can't," admitted her aunt.

"What were you writing over there?" asked Shmi.

"I started a journal," explained Leia. "It's for Han when he gets back."

"He'll say he doesn't want to read it," Shmi predicted.

"I know, but he will."

"Mm-hm," she nodded.

Leia bent over and pressed a kiss into the top of her hair. "Well, sweetheart, I think it's time we both got some sleep."

"Okay," Shmi agreed reluctantly.

Leia got up and walked into her bedroom, returning a few moments later with an extra blanket. She waited until Shmi had finished wriggling about on the couch, then covered her with the scratchy old fabric. The familiarity of the worn cloth was comforting to her. Once it might have seemed strange to her that military issue blankets and the white-washed walls of a starship could evoke the sensations of home and belonging, but now she only knew that it did. The only place that might have felt more like home was the Falcon—except that without Han there, it probably wouldn't like home at all.

She sighed a little, and Leia leaned down to kiss her forehead. Then the princess tucked the blanket more snugly around her and went to dim the lights. In the shadows, Shmi watched her aunt pick up her things from the desk and quietly disappear into the bedroom. The door slid shut after her and Shmi was left to stare at the ceiling. She didn't know how long she had lain there when a blue glow blossomed, lighting up the darkness above her. She shifted her gaze and was not surprised to see Qui-Gon standing at the far end of the couch with his finger to his lips.

Ignoring the gesture, she bolted upright and hissed at him in a fierce whisper, "Where—have you—been??"

The Jedi Spirit's expression took on a worn, haggard appearance and he laid his hand on the couch as he moved around to perch on the edge of the cushions beside her. "Master Windu and I cannot interfere with any of your family's direct confrontations with Vader. We explained this to your father before he left Dagobah."

"Why _not?_" demanded Shmi.

"Little One, the future is not predetermined. The path you and your family walk now is not the only one. It's simply the one that has been chosen up to now. The end of that path is coming for Anakin Skywalker, but none of us know what that end will be. The balance is fragile, and too much interference from may cause more damage than it prevents."

"That is the stupidest load of crap I have _ever_ heard," she glared at him. "People needed you!"

Qui-Gon nodded sadly. "I know. And the Kenobi children are not the only ones."

"What?" Shmi snapped in a heated whisper.

"There are too many variables in play. I don't know how many more times Mace or I will be able to come to you until this is over, Shmi. You must listen," he urged.

"Until what's over?" she frowned. "And why are you talking to me? You should be talking to _Daddy_! He's the Jedi Knight!"

"Listen," repeated Qui-Gon. "You must be patient. Heed what your feelings tell you, but search them carefully. Do not act out of fear and anger. Stay close to those who love you."

"What are you talking about? I'm always with them. And I've heard that Jedi junk for years!" she huffed.

"And now it's time you learned to use it," Qui-Gon smiled, pushing himself to his feet again. His ghostly form began to dissipate, and as he vanished, his voice echoed in her ears, "Tell Jareth that he must not forget where he comes from…"

"What? Qui-Gon!" she whispered hotly into the empty room. There was no answer, and she scrubbed her face with her hands, flopping backward onto the couch pillows. "I hate Force Ghosts. What do they bother hanging around for if they can't do anything useful anyway? What's all that garbage supposed to mean? _Listen to your feelings but search them carefully…tell Jareth not to forget where he comes from._ Oookay, glow-rod. I sure will…"

The diatribe faded on her tongue as the ceiling bloomed with light again. This time it was a hot yellow-white glow that gradually expanded until the entire room was bathed in the cruel glare. Shmi squinted and turned anxiously back and forth between the ceiling and the door to her aunt's room. Leia didn't come out, and although Shmi desperately wanted to call for her, the words stuck in her throat and all she could manage was a hoarse, strangled whisper.

The light became an image—a vast, rolling sea of sand that was familiar to her, though at first she couldn't tell why. A sand barge appeared on the crest of the nearest dune, and the scene rushed in toward it, growing closer until she could see the figures on the deck engaged in battle. Red blaster fire ricocheted about, and the green glow of a lightsaber swept back and forth about it. Still the scene continued to move, closing in on the figures, which she finally recognized as her family. Her father and uncle, both dressed in solid black and with lightsabers in hand; Han and Chewie who were hanging over one side trying to get Lando out of a sarlaac's tentacle; Leia dressed in…what _was_ that anyway?

Shmi squinted, trying to get a better look at it, but the scene before her kept moving and shifting. The images themselves swirled about, glistened and reformed as if the events themselves were still only half sure of what would be. She caught sight of the unmistakable, massively grotesque hulk that could only be Jabba the Hutt. He seemed to be gagging and struggling to breathe, but before Shmi could figure out why, the whole ceiling exploded in a cascade of thunderous color and blinding light. She clapped her hands to her face, wincing in pain, and then couldn't see at all for several breaths. When she regained her vision, she had to bite down on her hand to stifle a scream. With her father on the other end of the deck, a red-haired woman—Mara Jade?—had engaged Luke in lightsaber combat. She battered back the young Jedi's weapon with sickening ease and plunged her own blade straight through his sternum. Ani whirled around just in time to see him crumple as the magenta colored lightsaber slid back out again.

"Noooo….!" her father's voice echoed as the light faded and the images cleared away, leaving only cold, suffocating darkness in their wake.

"No," she repeated in a shaky whisper. "I won't let you. I won't let him die."

Leia's bedroom door slid open again, and she hurried out, pulling her robe on as she moved. She sank down on the edge of the couch and gathered Shmi into her arms. Shaking and crying, the little girl clung to her, burying her face against her aunt's chest.

"Little One, what happened?" she asked gently. "What did you see?"

Shmi shook her head fiercely. "I miss Han, Aunt Leia! We have to get Han back!"

"I know," Leia soothed, pressing her cheek against Shmi's hair. Her voice was strained and tight with tears, and she hugged the girl tighter. "We will. We will get him back."

"It has to be soon—before Schmoba delivers him to Jabba's palace!" Shmi insisted.

"What? Why…?" Leia started to ask, but before Shmi could formulate a reply the door chime sounded.

Leia sprang to her feet again and swept over to answer it. Ani and Isaly were the first ones in, with Obi Wan, Padme, and Bail only a few steps behind. Padme hurried to turn on the lights, and as she did so, Jareth peeked around the corner, his hair all akimbo. Isaly beckoned him inside, and Shmi also realized that his bathrobe was on inside out. He moved swiftly to the couch and flung himself down beside her, a hint of defiance in his bearing as he slung his skinny arm around her shoulders and gave her a hard look that dared her to rebuke him. Still shaken by what she had seen, Shmi only shifted closer to him, and his expression shifted to one of complete confusion. From her new vantage point, she could just make out another adult in the hallway—a tall male figure with a twin attached to each leg.

_Hardy,_ she reminded herself, squeezing her eyes shut tight against a sudden, hot onslaught of tears. _It's just Hardy._

"Little One," Ani said, laying a gentle finger on the side of her face. He turned her head toward him and knelt on the floor in front of the couch. "Tell me what happened."

"W-where's Uncle? Uncle Luke…?" she asked, looking around worriedly.

"The Rogues were called into action an hour ago," Ani said. "Did something happen to Uncle?"

"Not yet," Shmi shook her head, sniffling. "On Tatooine."

"Tatooine…?"

"You can't go to the barge. You can't let Uncle Luke on Jabba's barge!"


	206. To A Brighter Day

Takes place about a year after The Empire Strikes Back, just prior to the start of RotJ. In case anyone's wondering, no you haven't missed anything. We're kind of jumping ahead here. I felt that a considerable amount of momentum toward RotJ had been built with the last chapter and I wanted to use it rather than devote a lengthy period of time to the events between Episodes V and VI. As far as I'm aware, the only significant things that happened in that time were the actual search for Han and the discovery of the plans for Death Star II, all of which I assume readers are familiar with from canon.

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* * *

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Lando clanked down the _Falcon's_ boarding ramp with Chewie behind him and took a slow, speculative look around. The retreat house that Padme had described seemed to have fallen somewhat into disrepair. He felt his jaw clench and his shoulders tighten at the realization of why. The Naberries, like so many others with obvious connections to the Rebellion were often kept under rigid Imperial scrutiny. As their finances became strained and their movements were restricted, servants would have to be let go and maintaining a place like this might become difficult. Lando was a man who valued beauty, and he hated to see such shameful evidence of the way the Empire leached its citizens and the cultures they came from. Varyinko was still lovely; the lakes were pristine, and the meadows around the retreat possessed a quality of intractable serenity that defied such things as galactic politics, war, and the changing tides of fortune. Still, he could see the wear on the building and the unkempt growth of the gardens, and he suspected that Padme's family would not have allowed such decay to creep in if they had an alternative.

Chewie stepped up beside him and tilted his head, growling a question.

"Nothing," Lando shrugged. "Just a shame."

The Wookiee gave a sad nod of agreement, needing no further explanation. Then he pointed toward the house where a lone female figure was moving toward them, her blonde hair glinting in the afternoon sun. The train of her brown dress trailed out behind her, billowing in the light breeze, and quick, appreciative smile curved Lando's lips upward. She raised her hand and waved excitedly, still moving, and then blew straight past Lando to fling her arms around Chewie.

"Chewie! I'm so glad you came too! Welcome back!" she cried happily.

He returned her greeting happily, lifting her from the ground. Lando watched in mild astonishment as he engulfed her smaller form in his massive embrace and held her head to his chest. Still hugging her, the Wookiee shot him a questioning glance, to which the human returned a questioning eyebrow. Chewie responded with a look of innocence that Lando didn't buy for a second and set the young woman on her feet again.

She calmly straightened her clothes and fixed her hair, then turned to Lando with a poised smile and offered her hand. "You must be Lando. My aunt told me all about you. I'm Pooja Naberrie."

Graciously taking the proffered hand, Lando smiled charmingly and lifted it to his lips. "A pleasure, Miss Naberrie. Thank you for seeing us."

"Pooja, please," she smiled back, turning to lead the way to the house. "And I should thank you. You're doing us a favor, after all."  
"I'm glad to help," Lando said smoothly.

Chewie growled in protest.

"We're glad to help," amended Lando.

Pooja watched the interplay without comment, smiling as she led them around the side of the retreat house and up the steps to the terrace that overlooked the lake. Lunch had been laid out on a small table there, and she gestured for them to be seated. Chewie thanked her and moved to the side of the table. Lando bowed and held the chair at the far end while Pooja slipped into it. Her smile softened a bit as she glanced up at him. He gently inclined his head and slid around to the other end of the table, still holding her gaze.

"The view here is quite lovely," he said.

"It's over there," Pooja said easily.

"What is?" Lando asked.

Her gaze shifted to indicate the glittering lake. "The view."

"Ah. Forgive me, I must have been distracted."

"I can see that," she nodded.

An appreciative smile tugged at the corners of Lando's mouth. Chewie passed a hand over his face in a show of fond exasperation, but he pretended not to notice. Turning his outward attention to the meal, which was a light assortment of sliced fruits, cheeses, and crackers, he watched Pooja with a mixture of reluctant curiosity and appraising interest. She carried herself with the same cultured, polished and friendly breeding that made Padme and Leia stand out to him. She didn't quite have the Princess's obvious fire, but her wit had proven to be just as sharp, and he suspected that there was more to the freshly innocent face than met the eye.

He knew that she had served in the Imperial Senate before Palpatine dissolved it and that she had been partially responsible for getting Padme and Isaly away from Tatooine before the Empire caught up with them. Since then, she had been covertly aiding the Rebellion, and if she hadn't completely avoided detection, she had definitely managed to keep her activities sufficiently clandestine that the Empire hadn't been able to arrest her. That in itself spoke of a mettle that the innocence of her expression belied.

"How is the search going?" she asked, moving her eyes to encompass both himself and Chewie with perfect equality.  
The Wookiee growled in frustration and shrugged. Lando took a breath, stroking his mustache as he considered his reply. "Well, we were hoping to be able to intercept Fett before he made the delivery to Jabba the Hutt, but …it looks like we're going to have to use Plan B."

"Which is?" frowned Pooja.

Lando smiled apologetically, "A secret, I'm afraid."

"Very well," Pooja smiled in return. Then she bit her lip. "It's odd that my aunt would send you all the way out here now, though. With things going so poorly, I mean."

"It seems to me that's why Senator Kenobi thought this was a good idea," Lando said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Morale's quite low right now for the family. It's been almost a year since Han was captured and—well, we haven't been very successful in bringing him home. The Rebellion's always struggling, from the inside as well as out. The family's supposed to be rendezvousing on Tatooine within a couple of weeks, and she thought the painting might bring spirits back up. Something about solidarity and reminding everyone why we're doing this. I don't pretend to understand all of it, but…I'm not a Kenobi. Or a Naberrie."

"I think it's the same thing," Pooja said.

"Is it?" he frowned.

"Mm-hm. We're all part of something, and I think my Aunt Padme and my mother are the heart of it," she nodded.

"It's quite remarkable," Lando said quietly. "Perhaps you'll tell me more about it…when we have more time?"

"Perhaps."

* * *

"What are you looking for?" Obi Wan asked his wife for the third time. He stood leaning against the wall just inside the living room of their old home on Tatooine. The place which had once held so much warmth and life now had the dusty, deserted air of some long forgotten, centuries-old remnant of another age. In a way, perhaps it was, but that notion left an oddly hollow feeling in the Jedi Master's stomach. Padme had just finished pushing the old couch away from the wall and was now peering behind it. When she didn't find anything of interest, she leaned her hip against it and heaved it back into place, stirring up a heavy cloud of dust and sand in the process. She coughed harshly, waving her hand in front of her face, but didn't seem to be deterred in her mysterious quest.

"Padme?" he repeated.

"What, Obi Wan?" she asked, now busy climbing onto the arm of the couch and trying to push up a loose ceiling tile.

"I might be more help to you if I knew what you were looking for," he attempted.

"Lando was supposed to have left something here," she explained absently.

"Lando what? When?" he blinked and stared at her.

"I don't know exactly. He picked it up from Pooja about three weeks ago," she said, grunting as she finally managed to dislodge the tile and was rewarded for her efforts with a cascade of sand. "Ugh! Look at this. It just gets everywhere."

"Well, it's a desert, darling. That's what happens when you go away for four years," Obi Wan rubbed his eyes.

"Very funny," Padme told him, easing herself back down off the couch. Obi Wan moved to help her, taking her arm as she planted her other hand on his shoulder. Once she was back on the floor, she kissed his cheek. "Thanks for the rescue."

"Always. Now _what_ are you looking for?" he asked again, this time with a faint air of impatience.

"The old painting that Bail had done for Ani, remember?" she asked.

"The one…? Anakin and I…?" he frowned.

"Mm-hm. I had Lando and Chewie pick it up from Pooja. I wanted to surprise you and the kids before this all got going. Chewie said that Lando hid it someplace but he didn't know where Lando hid it," she explained, then she sighed at the sand and stomped to the door. Leaning out into the yard, she called loudly, "Nobby! Nobby, come in here, I need your vacuum attachment again!"

She went back to her search and within a moment or two, the little red astromech came rolling into the house. She was trailed, as usual, by Artoo, and the pair were engaged in the latest round of their seemingly endless argument. Threepio tottered in after them, moaning about sand in his joints and how desperately he needed an oil bath. Without having to be told, Nobby immediately set to work vacuuming up the pile of sand that had fallen on and around the couch. She was rewarded with a pat on the head from Padme, who then smiled as she turned to her husband.

"I love this little droid," she said. At this, Nobby swiveled her head and sent a smug twitter in Artoo's direction. He blatted back rudely, but she made a show of ignoring him and went about her task. Padme watched approvingly, adding, "And the vacuum attachment is such a practical addition. I wonder why no one's thought of it before."

"Wonderful thing, the mind of a child," Obi Wan replied, wisely keeping his amusement to himself.

"Mm," she nodded in agreement, then twisted around again and huffed in frustration. "I told him to make sure the painting was well hidden, but this is ridiculous."

Artoo beeped eagerly and rolled toward her, the slot in the top of his dome sliding back as he moved. A long black tube rose out of the droid's head and he whistled a long, sweetly innocent note. Padme's eyes widened, and Obi Wan raised a hand to his face, quietly sighing.

"Artoo Detoo!" Threepio scolded. "How long have you had that painting in your rusty little head?!"

Artoo beeped a response, and the humans waited for Threepio's translation.

"Ten days!" cried the outraged protocol droid.

Artoo gave a long series of explanatory beeps and whistles, to which Nobby replied with squawks and bursts of static to signal her disapproval. Threepio huffed. Again, the humans waited, both of them now masking grins behind their hands.

"He says that Lando gave it to him the last time he and Master Luke saw him. Master Luke had already gone ahead, and Lando's instructions were that Artoo should keep it safe until Mistress Padme wanted it," Threepio related. Then he gave Artoo an annoyed thump. "Did it occur to you that you should tell Mistress Padme where it was?"

Artoo uttered a chirp that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, and received another thump for his effort.

"No one asked you! Well how were they supposed to _ask_ when no one knew you had it?! Stupid little…!"


	207. Coming Around

Hardy still wasn't quite sure what he was doing in the back of the rented speeder with the Kenobi children, but the former stormtrooper had gotten well used to such goings on in the past year. Obi-Too and Junior were squeezed on either side of him, bickering about whose turn it was to play with the toy that Obi-Too currently had in his hands. Jareth was squished against the door on his left side, peering out at the busy streets of Mos Espa with open fascination that was sure to mark him as a stranger once they stopped, but in a place like this, he hoped no one would be very curious. People came and went in spaceport towns all the time. Shmi was currently wedged between her parents on the front seat, and she had resumed her sullen glare.

Earlier, on the open desert, Isaly had been able to distract the girl with a lesson in how to drive the speeder. Shmi handled the vehicle with a natural ease that didn't really surprise Hardy; he'd heard all about her prowess for piloting the _Falcon_ and the way she had handled a starfighter when she met up with Jareth. A landspeeder didn't provide much challenge for her. Even so, Isaly hadn't wanted to risk attracting attention by having her drive through the crowded city streets, and as soon as she didn't have something else to occupy her attention, she remembered that she was in a foul mood.

The speeder glided to a stop in front of a small, rundown shop on a street full of equally dismal establishments. A tattered awning stuck out from the building, sheltering a Toydarian who was perched on a three-legged stool. A round, black hat—which seemed a poor choice in the desert heat—adorned his head, and a small vest was pulled as far as it would go about his girth. He was fiddling with an electronic driver on a broken piece of equipment that looked like a droid component, and he didn't notice the speeder or the group of people that began to pile out of it.

Isaly hurried out and started toward him, glancing back when she noticed the other members of her brood lagging by the vehicle. Junior had clambered over Hardy's lap in order to exit the same side as his twin, and the boys were busy bickering about who should climb out first. Jareth had already gotten out on the other side and was staring about with wide-eyed astonishment at everything he saw. Shmi was still firmly seated in the front, arms crossed, refusing to move.

"Guys…?" Isaly called. "Come on, there's Watto!"

Hardy sighed quietly and picked up the twins, solving their disagreement for them by climbing out of the speeder with a kid tucked under each arm. He wished that he was less accustomed to that particular pose, but he had resigned himself to the knowledge that he was now doomed to carry Kenobi children in his armpits for all eternity. He had no such ready solution for Shmi's problem, and apparently neither did her father. Ani was still sitting beside her in the speeder as Hardy set the boys on their feet, attempting to reason with her but having no success.

"I _saw_ Mara Jade in Anchorhead yesterday," she insisted.  
"I believe you," Ani affirmed quietly. "But she was gone before I saw anything. And even if I had seen her, we can't just…"

"Guys?" Isaly repeated.

"Go on, honey, we'll be right over," Ani said, looking up at her.

She gave a faint sigh and turned to call Jareth, who finally snapped out of his stupor and ran to her side. Hardy swatted the twins lightly on their backsides and sent them after her, moving to lean against the side of the speeder. Once there, he pulled up the hood of his cloak to shield him from the glare of the suns and the possibility of prying eyes.

Isaly took her sons by the hands, but looked over her shoulder again, and this time Hardy was the focus of her attention. Her own hood was raised, but he didn't need to be able to see her face to know that her eyebrow had just shot up. He smiled a little but didn't move.

"Are you coming?"

"What, are you afraid I'm going to escape?" he joked.

Isaly tossed her head in mock irritation. "You want to escape? Go ahead."

"Where would I go?" Hardy laughed, pushing himself off the speeder to follow in the kids' dusty wake.

"Exactly," Isaly replied easily.

She led them to the Toydarian, who finally looked up when she was close enough to block the light that came in under the awning. He squinted up at her, then looked around at Hardy and the kids. Hardy ducked his head but kept a careful watch on the creature and on their surroundings. He didn't like the idea of coming here. The Kenobis were never exactly inconspicuous, and even in Mos Espa, they might not blend well. He didn't want anyone too close, especially if Mara Jade was lurking somewhere.

"Chut chut, Watto," Isaly greeted the Toydarian.

"Isaly…?" he asked, his voice a raspy whisper.

"It's me, Watto," she confirmed.

_"Ding mi chasa hopa,"_ Junior interrupted, offering to help the Toydarian with the broken component. His Huttese was natural and unbroken, a fact in which he took obvious pride, and Hardy had to work hard to keep a smile off his lips. The boy took the piece of the broken droid from Watto, and manipulating it expertly. Watto watched him for a moment, his buglike eyes growing even larger in surprise.

"Ke booda?" he asked in confusion, his head bobbing from Junior to Isaly.

"I'mma fix it for you, that's all," Junior shook his head at the Toydarian's behavior.

"Who--?" began Watto.

"Maybe we could continue this conversation inside," Hardy suggested, investing his tone with a hint of firmness that drew an annoyed frown from Isaly. He held his ground, looking back at her with a blandly pleasant expression. "It's cooler there."

"Who's this guy?" demanded Watto.

"A friend," Isaly replied calmly.

"Where's Ani?" Watto asked suspiciously.

"I thought you didn't like Ani," Isaly chuckled.

"I like Ani better than this guy," Watto declared.

"I'm right here, Watto," Ani called as he and Shmi finally came up to the rest of the group. He laid his hand casually on Hardy's shoulder as he came to a stop, adding, "And I think Hardy is right. It's a lot cooler in the shop."

Isaly raised her eyes to the sky in a dramatic show of exasperation, but she ushered the children inside without complaint. The shop was dark and cramped, but it was cooler, and since it was empty, there was less chance of prying eyes or ears. Hardy remained by the door, but carefully angled himself so that his back faced away from it. He wanted a clear view of what went on in the street outside while the family engaged in their little reunion. Ani caught his eye, offering him a brief nod of acknowledgement that took him a little by surprise.

He hadn't really expected Isaly's husband to accept his presence, let alone trust his intentions toward her or the rest of the family, but of all the Kenobis, Ani had been the one who always seemed to regard him with implicit trust and ready acceptance. He'd asked Isaly about it once, and she told him that Ani felt no reason to doubt the man who'd protected his family even when they were supposed to have been enemies. Hardy valued that trust, although he doubted that he would ever quite be able to get used to it. He would have been a lot more comfortable with his place in this strange group if Ani had at least treated him with a little bit of suspicion.

He rubbed his eyes, realizing that this was a completely irrational way to think. There were more than enough rebels who still viewed him as the enemy; he wasn't even completely convinced that they were wrong to think of him that way. Even Luke and Leia had been guarded in their acceptance of him at first, though he had to say that all of the Kenobis seemed to trust him now—no, more than trust him. They looked at him like another member of their brood of adoptees, and as strange as it was, he knew that he had fallen in with them. So why did Ani's friendship still seem so shocking?

"Obi-Too, don't touch anything!" Isaly cautioned, drawing Hardy out of his thoughts.

"But, Mom, it's broken!" the four-year-old protested, holding up an odd rectangular box with several mechanical arms jutting out from it in all directions.

"It's a junk shop, son. There's a lot of broken stuff here. You can't fix it all today," Isaly said, not quite managing to stifle her laughter.

"But Junior got to fix something…!"

"Obi-Too, you can—" Ani began, but whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by Watto.

"This what you came back for, Isaly? Insulting my merchandise?" he snapped.

"No, Watto," she shook her head.

"Well, what then?" he asked, pulling his hat off of his head to wave it around as he spoke. "You looking for your old job back, eh? Well, you can't have it! You disappear for four years, think you're just gonna show up like this one day, and everything's fine?"

Ani and Hardy both pressed their hands to their mouths in a concerted effort not to laugh. Hardy kept his eyes glued on the street, knowing that if he met the other man's gaze for even a second he wouldn't be able to maintain his dour countenance. He half expected Isaly to snap back at the Toydarian, but she didn't. That more than anything else told him how much the little bug must mean to her.

"No, Watto, I'm afraid I don't want my old job back," she said with a note of apology in her tone.

"Oh, you don't…?" he sounded disappointed for a moment, then he became gruff and dismissive. "Well, good! Cause like I said, I don't need you no more!"

"I know you don't, Watto. I understand," she replied. "We just came to say hello and thank you for helping us when we left. I never really got a chance then."

"Ahhh!" Watto exclaimed, waving his hand in dismissal.

"You remember Shmi?" Isaly asked, gesturing to indicate the couple's oldest child.

Watto buzzed up to her and floated up and down, giving her a thorough inspection. "You got big for a Little One," he remarked.

"Hi, Watto. You're still funny looking."

"Shmi!" Ani scolded.

"You ain't so cute yourself," retorted Watto.

"I am so!" she huffed.

"Your nose is too short," he declared.

"And these," interrupted Isaly before the insult-slinging could escalate any further, are our sons. "Anakin…and Obi-Wan. And this is Ani's apprentice, Jareth."

"Hi," Jareth spoke up with unusual shyness.

Obi-Too stepped forward, offering the Toydarian his hand. "I'm Junior."

Immediately, Junior bustled up behind him and joined the game, smiling brightly at Watto. "I'm Obi-Too. It's nice to meet you, Watto, sir!"

Watto blinked. "Wait a minute…"

"Kids," Ani rebuked lightly.

"What, Daddy?" Junior tilted his head back to peer up at his father with absolute ingenuousness.

"Watto, this is Junior," Ani said, planting a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. He rested his other one on Obi-Too's head and added. "This is Obi-Too."

"But I thought they were Obi-Wan and Anakin," Watto said in confusion.

"See?" Hardy smirked. "I told you those nicknames don't do a damn bit of good. It's still confusing."


	208. The Bend

Jareth opened his eyes just in time to see Shmi picking her way through the sleeping bodies on the floor of the Kenobis' living room. His sharp eyes picked out the shape of the travel cloak she had worn earlier in Mos Espa and he bit back a groan. Pushing the blanket away, he rolled over and eased himself to his feet, careful not to wake either of her brothers in the process.

"Psst!" he hissed at her.

She pretended not to hear him and continued on her way to the door. Jareth scampered after her, slipping through the door as it started to close in her wake. He lunged for her, strong fingers latching onto her arm before she could get any farther. She whirled on him, aiming a sharp kick toward his knee, but he blocked it, grabbing her ankle in both hands.

"Wouldja cut it out!" he cried.

"I thought you were sandpeople," she explained, bouncing on her other foot to keep her balance.

"Coming from the house?" he demanded.

"Well, you grabbed me! It's the middle of the night!" she sighed.

"Yeah, it is. So, where are you going?"

"Can I have my foot, please?" she glared.

Grumbling, he released her ankle. Her foot thumped back down into the sand, and they each pointed and shhed the other. Shmi then turned without offering an explanation and raced for the landspeeder that was parked at the far end of the yard. Jareth scrubbed his face with his hands and ran after her, making a flying leap that took him into the front passenger seat just as she settled behind the wheel.

"What exactly are you doing?" he shouted.

"Shh! QUIET!" she ordered as she started the vehicle.

"Shmi."

"What."

"Answer me."

"We're going to Anchorhead to find Mara Jade," Shmi said finally.

"We?" he blinked.

"Well, you're in the speeder, aren't you?" she arched an eyebrow at him pointedly.

"Only because I was trying to stop you!" Jareth smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand in exasperation.

"Oh, like that was going to happen."

He rolled his eyes. "All right. So suppose we do get all the way to Anchorhead, _and_ Mara Jade is still there, _and_ we find her. Then what?"

"I don't know…?" she huffed as if this was a perfectly reasonable response.

"Great plan," Jareth raised his eyes to the night sky.

"Yeah, it's about as good as the plan you had when we tried to rescue Daddy from the _Executor_," she retorted.

"That was different!" he insisted.

"Why…?"

"Because!"

"Well, unless you can give me a better answer than that, I'd say we're going to Anchorhead," Shmi muttered, clenching her teeth around the tip of her tongue, which stuck out in a show of concentration as she began to realize that navigating a speeder in the dark was entirely different from piloting one during the harsh daylight of the desert planet.

"I'd say we're going anyway," Jareth sighed, slouching down lower in his seat. He was tempted to cover his head with his arms, but he thought it might make her nervous if she realized that she might actually kill them before Mara Jade even knew they were coming.

"I'd say so," Shmi agreed with a firm nod.

"Great."

"Well, you want me to pull over and let you out?" she offered facetiously.

"No."

"I'm sure you could make it back to the house before anything ate you," she smiled.

"Or sandpeople got me," he amended.

"That too," she agreed.

"Fantastic," he sighed.

"Unless you fall. Then all bets are off," she taunted.

"Will you _shut up_ about the falling thing?! It could have happened to anybody!" he complained.

"Except it didn't. It happened to you," she quipped.

"How could I forget with you around to remind me all the time?" he grumbled.

"Glad I could help," she grinned back.

"I don't know why I put up with you anyway," he declared.

"Me either," she batted her eyelashes at him.

Jareth jabbed a finger at the dusty road in front of them. "Pay attention to what's going on out there, huh?"

"Do you want to drive?" she asked as the speeder started to swerve to the left.

"Shmi!!"

"Yow!" she shrieked, yanking hard on the control yoke to bring them back onto the road. "Right. So. Paying attention."

"_Thank_ you!" he exclaimed, sighing with immense relief.

"Flying the Falcon's easier than driving a speeder at night," she said with a touch of embarrassment in her voice.

"Why?" he frowned.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Less stuff to hit I guess."

"That makes a scary amount of sense," he muttered.

"What are you trying to say?!" she glared.

"Pay _attention!_!" he reminded her sharply.

"Oh! Right!" she nodded, snapping her eyes back to the road. "What are you trying to say?!"

"Nothing, nevermind," he shook his head, deciding that it would be safer to shift the topic before he got her so upset that she drove them into a sand dune—or worse. "Look, I don't mind helping you, but maybe we shouldn't try to take Mara by ourselves. She's pretty tough."

"Well, who do you think is going to help us?" she asked.

"Maybe we could get Master Ani…"

"I tried that," she interrupted.

"No you didn't," he shook his head.

"Yes, I _did!_"

"All you did was tell him you saw her and act like a brat!" he pointed out.

"Well, that's because he gave me some stupid crap about how visions don't always show the real future, just possible ones, and that there was nothing in the plan about going on Jabba's barge, so I needed to relax and trust the dumb Force!" she growled.

"The Force isn't dumb!" he protested.

"The Force is what got us into this mess with the Empire and Vader, isn't it?" she argued.

"Well…" Jareth began, pushing out his bottom lip in thought. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, that's pretty darn dumb if you ask me!"

"Okay, you have a point," admitted Jareth. "But Master Ani ain't dumb!"

"I didn't say he was dumb!" she cried, her mouth hanging open in shock at the idea.

"Then how come you won't listen to him?" argued Jareth.

"You remember the last rescue plan?" she asked.

"Yeah…?"

"I'm guessing it didn't involve anybody getting stuck in elevators with Vader or falling down elevator shafts or Uncle Luke crashing into the hangar deck," she said reasonably.

"So? Everybody got out all right in the end," he reminded her.

"Yes, but there's no way we know that they won't all end up on Jabba's barge this time even if it's not in the plan!" she insisted.

"Ohh…that's…true, isn't it?" he wrinkled his brow thoughtfully. "Still. How are we gonna stop Mara Jade?"

"Maybe we don't have to," Shmi said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"All we gotta do is make sure she doesn't end up on the barge. Then she can't kill Uncle Luke," she reasoned.

"Okay…but how are we going to do that?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet."

"Are you going to?"

"I might if you shut up for a while."

"Right."

"Excuse me?"

"If you haven't come up with a plan yet, I don't think you're going to have one fall in your lap before we get to Anchorhead," he snorted.

"Okay, then, genius. _You_ come up with a plan."

"Fine." Jareth nodded.

She fell silent as he began to concentrate, squeezing his eyes shut with effort. Absently, he drummed his fingers on the seat beside him, picking up an unconscious, habitual rhythm. After several minutes, however, no plan bubbled into his mind, and Shmi cleared her throat.

"Well?"

"I'm thinking."

***  
Ani was just coming out of the 'fresher as Luke stepped into the kitchen. He felt invigorated after the sonic shower, but the sensation quickly dissipated as he caught the sudden spiking of worry from his brother. It was natural that Luke should feel some anxiety with their infiltration of Jabba's palace this close to a reality, but something was wrong now. His first worry was automatically Leia and Chewie. Their sister hadn't met up with rest of the family here but was supposed to have met up with Lando and Chewie to carry out their part of the plan without any obvious connection to the returning Jedi. He dismissed that concern almost as soon as it entered his mind, though.

"What's the matter?" he frowned.

"Well, the droids are on their way," he said, "But we've got a big problem."

"What problem?" Hardy asked, looking up sharply from the cup of caf he was sipping at the table.

"The speeder's gone," Luke said.

Padme whirled away from the food prep station, her right hand flying to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Ani didn't waste time talking but turned and hurried back through the hall. Isaly was just on her way out of their room, and her sleepy haze abruptly vanished at the sight of him. He slid past her with a quick explanation and barreled into Shmi's room.

Finding the bed empty, he spun again, uttering a string of oaths which would have earned sharp censure from both his wife and his mother under other circumstances. By the time he and Isaly returned to the kitchen, Hardy was on his feet, pulling a rough gray cloak over his head.

"Anchorhead," he said quickly. "They'd be trying to get to Anchorhead."

Ani nodded as he moved to take his own cloak from a peg on the wall. "Let's just hope Mara Jade isn't still there."

"Wait. Let me get dressed," Isaly said, dashing back toward the bedroom.

Ani didn't bother trying to dissuade her. He didn't savor the notion of a head on conflict with Mara with Isaly present, but he had no way of knowing whether it would come to that, and he didn't want to waste his time—or his breath—arguing. He moved through the back door and out into the blood red glare of the early morning suns and halted in the yard, leaning against the side of the house to wait. Hardy and Luke followed him out, and they were joined a few moments later by Obi Wan, Padme, and finally Isaly.

"We're going to have to walk in," Ani said slowly.

"I don't think we can afford to delay the plan," Luke sighed heavily. "Leia and Chewie will already be in position. If anything goes wrong, at least one of us should be there to help."

"Your sister is a Jedi Knight in all but name," Obi Wan said softly.

"Yes, but she expects us to be there," Ani said, scrubbing his face. "We won't get another shot at this. We have to get Han out of Jabba's palace. There's no telling whether Mara's even still in Anchorhead or not."

"What do you want to do?" Isaly asked.

"You, Hardy, and I will go into Anchorhead and find the kids. With any luck, we'll be back before tomorrow. If not, Luke, go ahead with the plan without me. I'll get back as soon as I can and find my own way into Jabba's palace," Ani instructed.

"Isaly and I will slow you down, Ani," Hardy said with a frown. "You'd be a lot quicker if you went to Anchorhead alone."

"I can't take Mara alone, Hardy," Ani shook his head. Then he smiled at his wife and added, "And I don't think Isaly is going to let me get two meters down the road without her."

"Try two steps," Isaly corrected.

"See?" Ani said with a tense smile. "We'll have to do this the Kenobi way. Luke, just make sure that the other half of my saberstaff comes home with you if I don't get there." 


	209. In The Road

Mara Jade knew she was being followed long before the two Kenobi brats tried to corner her in an alley. She had to give them credit for that. It was brave, and less stupid than it could have been. At least they didn't come rushing out with blasters drawn and try to kill her in the middle of a busy street. They waited until she was isolated and tried to pin her between them in a place where, ostensibly, she would have less room to maneuver. The girl was a quicker shot than Mara anticipated, and she actually managed to draw her blaster pistol and fire once before the weapon flew out of her hand.

Naturally, Mara wasn't still in the path of the blaster bolt, and since the boy was on the other end of the alley, he had to drop to the dusty ground to avoid being hit. The woman landed lightly behind her smaller adversary, and both blasters sailed neatly into her left hand. The right hand came to rest on the girl's shoulder, and the slim, elegant fingers exerted just a hint of pressure.

It was enough. The girl went utterly still, barely breathing. Mara sensed her fear, and then felt her working to control it. A very faint smile touched her lips.

"Smart," she said.

"I'm not going to let you kill my uncle," the girl replied.

Mara's eyebrow rose. She had expected bravado of some sort, perhaps a threat or an attempt to scare her with the possibility of familial retribution if anything untoward happened to the children. She would have dismissed the girl's statement if she had spoken it like that, but there was no threat, no childish pique. The words were quiet and matter-of-fact, and her voice held a hint of resignation. It didn't matter to her what she had to do to make sure that Luke left Tatooine alive.

"Then we're stuck together for a while," she said, intrigued.

The boy had recovered his feet by then, and his orange and black striped hair shot straight up at the sight of Mara holding his companion so casually in her grip. He swallowed and approached them cautiously, hands raised in front of his chest.

"Don't hurt my friend," he said.

Mara slipped their blasters onto her belt and beckoned for him to follow. Then she nudged the girl around and gave her a slight push out of the alley, keeping her hand on the bony shoulder. The boy trotted after them, using his hands to smooth the fluff on his head back down into a semblance of neatness. He caught up within a few meters and shot the girl an annoyed look as he fell into step beside Mara.

She turned to look back at him with a huff. "Well, don't look at me. This was your plan."  
"You were supposed to hit her," he said sharply.

"She moved."

"I noticed," he raised his eyes to the sky. "You almost shot me."

"Well, it's a good thing you fell again, isn't it?"

"I didn't fall, I ducked!"

"So you're going to bicker me into submission," Mara interrupted the argument.

"Brilliant plan, isn't it?" the girl quipped.

"Only until you succeed in annoying me," Mara told her.

Shmi sighed. "Where are we going?"

"Thirsty?" Mara asked.

"Yeah…?"

"Good. I think we'll get a drink and wait for your father," Mara mused.

She did have a mission to complete here, but sneaking in and out of Jabba's palace wasn't exactly simple. She couldn't very well take the two of them with her, and the delay they'd caused was already likely to put her far enough behind schedule that she would be missed. Under other circumstances, she might risk returning anyway. Jabba himself would probably not be immediately aware of a missing dancer; they weren't _all_ required to be in his disgusting presence at once, and no one would be very eager to face his temper when they had to report her gone. There were ways to deal with the weak-minded that could keep her cover from being blown, and this assignment had been particularly unpleasant. She would have liked to see it out simply for the pleasure of having her effort pay off. Still, the children were of as much interest to her Master as the bodies of the adults, and if she played her hand well, she would be able to bring him back at least one of those as well.

"My father isn't coming," the girl's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Then we'll head to Mos Eisley," said Mara. She knew as well as the children did that the Kenobis would be aware of their absence and looking for them, but her point was made.

"What?" her diminutive prisoner twisted her head around to stare at her.

"It's a long way to the Emperor. We should get started as soon as possible," Mara shrugged.

"Oh. Good point," she nodded firmly.

"Shmi!" the boy glared.

"What?!"

"We don't want to go to the Emperor…?" he said pointedly.

"I'm sure Mara knows that, Jareth," Shmi shook her head.

"Well, you could still argue!" he fumed.

"I'm saving my strength," she explained.

Mara almost laughed. The boy distracted her by halting on the middle of the sidewalk. He grabbed her arm and tugged her toward him, his manner suddenly frank and confidential. Normally, Mara would have rebuked him, but it was such an uncommonly adult gesture that the intrigue she already felt toward these two picked up a notch. She quickly and easily slid her arm out of his grasp, but there was no tension or displeasure in the motion, and she frowned down at him with candid interest.

"Look, Mara Jade," he said. "Shmi's a little stressed out right now, okay? She's worried about Luke and Han, and she ain't really thinking clearly. The truth is, my Master is probably almost here by now. I'm sure if we just go get a drink, he'll show up, and then…um."

Shmi raised a hand and slowly bent her head, covering her face with her palm. She gave her head another sad shake. "And I'm the one not thinking clearly."

* * *

Conversation was minimal on the road to Anchorhead. The group kept up a brisk pace despite the glaring heat of the suns, but the exertion left little energy for talking. Ani and Isaly walked arm in arm while Hardy remained a few steps behind them for most of the trip. As they neared the town, he began to drop back a little. He didn't really slow down or lag behind, but gradually Isaly noticed that he wasn't so close any more, and he kept watch on their surroundings with the air of a nervous hawk ready to take flight.

"Hardy thinks there's going to be trouble," she observed. She had seen him like this before, and she knew what he was doing. He would drop back far enough to make himself the more inviting target in an attack, but she noted with satisfaction that at least he'd learned to stay easily within range of help in case it became necessary.

"There is," Ani replied.

"Out here on the road?" she frowned.

"I don't know. Maybe," Ani tilted his head to one side and concentrated, but a moment or two later, he shook his head. "Not sure yet. Too much going on with the family and we're not all that far apart."

She nodded, drawing in a pensive breath. "I think he might be nervous about confronting Mara Jade."

"Can you blame him?" Ani raised an eyebrow in a faint show of surprise.

"No," Isaly shook her head. "Obviously, we're all nervous. She's a dangerous adversary, and if she's in Anchorhead, chances are she has the kids. I just think the idea of…um…an _imperial entanglement_…bothers him."

"What, you mean he thinks we'd let her take him or something?" he stared at her.

"Not that," Isaly shook her head. "But he's not exactly sure where his loyalties lie. I mean, he's loyal to us—you, me, the kids. Beyond that? He's never really been committed to the Rebellion."

"Well, he doesn't have to be," Ani said.

"I know that and you know that," Isaly replied. "I'm not sure he does. Up until now, nobody's really asked him to fight, face to face, against someone who serves the Emperor. I think you should say something to him."

"Honey, he's not going to admit that he's questioning his allegiance to me. To him, I'm a Jedi first and Ani second, and he's still not entirely sure why I don't already think he's a spy or something," Ani shook his head. "If he's going to listen to either of us, it will be you. You're the reason he came with us in the first place."

"What do you mean, _I'm_ the reason? He was protecting the kids," Isaly protested.

"Yes, Isaly, but who was it that challenged him to question what he'd been taught to believe? Who was it that suggested to him that there was an alternative viewpoint and then demonstrated it by saving his friend Gil?" Ani asked.

"Me, I guess. I don't know, Ani, I didn't think about any of that, I just did what I had to do. And then what was I supposed to do? Just let him stay and be killed by Vader because we escaped?" she frowned.

"Of course not. That's why he trusts you," Ani smiled.

"Okay…" Isaly sighed uncertainly. She kissed his cheek and then stepped back, jogging over to Hardy.

"Hi," he said, giving her a faintly startled look.

"Mind company?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not for the moment."

"Something out here?"

"Sandpeople are always out here," he said with a shrug.

She bobbed her head, slightly uncomfortable. "Guess so."

"What'samatter?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that—" She broke off, wrinkling her nose. "Well, I guess I don't know what I wanted to tell you."

"That's profoundly helpful," Hardy remarked.

She rolled her eyes skyward. "Well, I was going to tell you that you don't have to go with us, but that seems rather stupid under the circumstances. We're halfway there."

"Yep."

"You're not helping," she said.

"Sorry."

"Look, you don't have to fight against the Empire to prove yourself to Ani and I," she told him.

"I'm not gonna let anybody hurt the kids, Isaly. Nothing to do with Rebellion and Empire," he said simply.

She nodded. "Well, I want you to know that we appreciate what you're doing. It can't be very easy."

Hardy shrugged one shoulder. "What else do I have?"

"You have us. All of us," Isaly replied.

* * *

Nobby rolled along the winding desert path beside C-3PO. Artoo was on the other side of him, but the protocol droid kept shushing the R2 units, which made it somewhat difficult to carry on a normal conversation. He said they were giving him a headache, which Nobby found unlikely, but she didn't enjoy arguing with Threepio as much as Artoo did, so she didn't challenge him.

"Are you worried?" Artoo asked him suddenly.

"Well, of course I'm worried!" replied Threepio. "You would be too if you knew half the things I've heard about this Jabba the Hutt."

"His name is Mabba the Butt," Nobby reminded him flippantly.

"Just you be careful who you repeat that nickname too, Nobby," advised Threepio. "I'm sure Jabba won't appreciate it _nearly_ as much as Master Obi-Too and Master Junior seem to."

"I like it," Artoo spoke up.

"You would," remarked Threepio as the trio reached the massive gate. "Are you sure this is the place? I'd better knock I suppose…"


	210. New Destinations

Ani was later than Mara expected him to be. Shmi and Jareth perched on barstools to her left and right, sipping bright green, bubbly concoctions through large, curly straws. Mara was rolling a glass of water between her hands in a carefully presented show of idle disinterest, but she kept a keen eye on everything around her. The kids were on their third drink apiece, and they were deeply involved in a a discussion about whether or not some drink that Lando Calrissian had introduced them to might be good cold. Shmi was of the opinion that the stuff was called _hot_ chocolate for a reason and that allowing it to cool before drinking it would ruin the experience. Jareth seemed to believe that most hot drinks could be adapted for consumption in hot weather by refrigerating them until they were chilled and adding ice. This suggestion led to a spate of bickering over whether or not ice would water down the liquid too much as it melted.

Mara pressed her hand to her forehead as she listened, wondering if it wouldn't be a better strategy for the Emperor to let the Jedi keep these two. Certainly, they had Force potential, but it seemed to her that their real talents lay in their unfailing ability to find the opposite sides of any issue and then argue their sides to complete exhaustion. What impressed her the most was the way that neither one ever seemed swayed by the other's stance, and yet when all points had been made, they were satisfied and ready to move on to a new subject for debate. Of course, it was possible that they simply grew bored or became distracted by a newer, better thing to bicker over. They never appeared to be at a loss for fresh material, so perhaps they were more interested in stating their rather less than humble opinions than they were in changing the other's mind. She suspected that would change as they grew older and began to grasp the concept of _winning_ an argument. Once that happened, the conflicts would escalate much more quickly and to a greater degree. Given how distracting the pair was already, they couldn't help but impede the Jedis' concentration and they might even do some serious damage to the Rebel Alliance if they were given enough time.

This particular debate ran longer than their previous ones, which Mara took as a testimony to their growing boredom and the strain she sensed beneath their energetic display. She couldn't really blame them on either count. Anchorhead was not a large settlement, and they were probably well used to having a great deal of bustle and activity around them. The fact that they were here would also mean that at least _some_ of the Kenobis were already engaged in their attempt to rescue Solo. She had followed this family enough over the last few years to understand something of how they operated. Damage or threat to one member caused the entire brood to react, as if the clan were some sort of living organism in its own right. It didn't seem to matter whether a close blood tie was involved or not. The Force gave some of them a heightened sensitivity to one another, but it wasn't the Force that really bound them together. In the back of these children's minds there had to be the distinct and unsettling awareness that members of their family were in danger and that Solo's fate hung in the balance.

Oddly, they seemed less conscious, or at least less bothered, by the jeopardy that they were currently in. She knew that they were afraid of the possibility of being sent to the Emperor. They would have been after spending their short lives in the company of those who opposed his rule. Both of them exuded a good deal of anger when he was mentioned, and that increased if conversation dwelled on him for any length of time. Yet, on another level, they were accepting of those emotions and unfettered by them—as if fear and anger were so much a part of the natural state of their lives that they hardly gave the emotional wear it caused them any thought.

She supposed this was one reason that they could sit and bicker so comfortably in the company of an enemy. They certainly did not seem to hold any illusions about who Mara was or what her intentions toward them entailed. Even so, they went along with her without any overt show of distress. They had come face to face with how ill conceived their plan to accost her in the streets had been, and as such she would have expected children so young to cry or try to escape. Perhaps it was some Jedi teaching which gave them such a strange, unchildlike self-possession? Watching them, she considered this possibility and then dismissed it. They still acted like children when left to interact solely with each other—albeit children somewhat older than their physical ages indicated. The adult quality about them only surfaced in relation to her. If Jedi training had been responsible for their behavior, it would have shown more in the way they responded to one another than in how they reacted to her.

"All right, I know," said Jareth suddenly, drawing Mara from her reverie. "What do you think, Mara Jade?"

She arched her eyebrow in surprise and gave him a cool look. "I think this is a foolish argument."

He blinked at her, then pulled back a little and frowned. His mouth worked for a few seconds, and then he shook his head. Hiding her amusement, Mara waited for his response.

"That's because you've never had hot chocolate," he decided.

"No, it's because hot chocolate is supposed to be hot," Shmi contradicted.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine. I'm going to invent _ice chocolate_ and you can't have any."

"I can so!" Shmi fired back.

Mara sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. Both children turned to look at her with blankly innocent expressions. She shifted her gaze from one to the other and held the silence.

"What?" they asked in unison.

"If Ani doesn't show up soon, I'm going to kill him twice."

* * *

Obi-Too and Junior were oddly quiet that day. Padme knew that they were worried about their sister and Jareth, not to mention worried about the adults, all of whom either had gone or would soon be walking into a potential battle zone. She expected them to be distraught and suffering some sort of empathic backlash from the emotionally charged atmosphere, so for a while she occupied herself with trying to keep them engaged and distracted. While clearly unhappy, however, the boys seemed to be coping quite adequately without such active intervention on her part. Mainly, they wanted the closeness and reassurance of the rest of the family, which was always freely given to them in any case. The change in their reaction to such immediate danger to loved ones pleased their grandmother, who took it as evidence of Rei's effectiveness in helping them.

Luke and Obi Wan spent the majority of the day either meditating or talking in soft voices. Some of their conversation was about the upcoming confrontations and their implications—for the family, the Jedi, and the Rebel Alliance. Some of it had to do with what would happen next. Luke and Ani had promised to return to Dagobah and finish what they had begun there. They intended to keep that promise, and Obi Wan supported their decision. He also wanted to hold a Knighting ceremony for Leia—a fact of which she was currently still unaware—and there were larger considerations where the Alliance was concerned. The Rebel Fleet was massing in preparation for an attack on the Empire's new, partially finished battle station, where it was reported that the Emperor himself was present for an inspection of the facility. A victory would turn the tide of the war for the Rebellion, breaking the back of the beast. The two Jedi saw a cascade of far reaching consequences to such a victory, and they were engaged in a discussion about how the New Jedi Order would and wouldn't be involved with the provisional government that High Command intended to put in place until elections could be made and a New Galactic Republic solidified after the war.

Padme sat on the couch beside Obi Wan, her fingers twined with his as she listened and added her own viewpoint to the discussion. It seemed that her children had collectively discussed the role of the Jedi in the New Republic at some length. They had reached the consensus that the best way for the Jedi Order to assure itself that it could never again become the tool of a decaying political system while also maintaining its ability to serve and safeguard the public in the capacity of peacekeepers and guardians of justice was for the Order itself to have a role and a voice, separate from the senate and the executive office, within the political structure itself. Obi Wan was surprised and a bit uncomfortable with such an idea; he still largely mistrusted politicians despite the fact that he was married to one, good friends with another, and had a long standing reputation for being able to work well with them. Ultimately, though, he agreed with Luke's assertion that the Order had to be kept autonomous at least insofar as whether or not an external entity like the Senate or a Chancellor's office could be able to interfere with its internal workings or to command its disbanding. At the same time, they all recognized the potential risk involved in creating a system where a group of beings endowed with special powers and weapons was placed in a position of social authority without anyone to whom it was held accountable for its behavior. The public's escalating mistrust of the Old Jedi Order had played a key role in Palpatine's ability to seize power. Then to, they understood that the things they initiated as the founders of both a new Jedi Order and a new political system for the galaxy would extend into futures far beyond their own limited lifetimes. It was conceivable that the Order itself might lose its focus and become a threat to the society that they intended for it to help protect. While there were alternatives to proposing a political role for the Order, none of them seemed adequate. Re-creating the paradigm that existed in the Old Republic, wherein the Jedi were subject to the authority of the Senate and yet had no recourse when the Senate or the Chancellor's office became a threat to the public was clearly not acceptable. The opposite extreme—creating an isolationist Jedi Order with no commitment to democracy or to protecting the peace, where its only purpose was to engage in lofty and high-minded pursuits after knowledge and oneness with the Force—was equally untenable to a duty-conscious and service-minded family like the Kenobis. No decisions were made, of course, but it was reassuring to both Padme and Luke that Obi Wan saw the wisdom in the children's ideas. They knew that he would never seek to exert undue control over the Jedi as a group and that he would abide by whatever decision the family made about the future of the Order, but he _was_ the one that the children looked to for guidance and direction when it came to anything relating to the Jedi.

Obi-Too and Junior sat on the floor nearby, idly playing with some model starfighters that they had brought with them from the fleet. However, Padme noticed that as the discussion progressed, they gradually lost interest in the toys. With fighters still in hands but no longer flying through the living room, they sat watching they adults with expressions ranging from puzzled to bored to downright confused. At first, Padme watched with amusement, waiting for them to either work out the problem or ask for clarification on their own, but when they began to eye one another with furrowed brows and scrunched up noses, she couldn't quite stifle her laughter, which drew Obi Wan's attention.

"What is it, boys?" he asked.

"When the big Death Star blows up, will the war be over, G'apa?" Junior asked.

"Well," Obi Wan sighed, shaking his head a little sadly. "No, I don't think so, but if the Emperor is dead, then the Empire itself will begin to break apart. Once that starts to happen, the kinds battles we're fighting will change. Victory may be a while off, but it will be much easier for us to convince new worlds to join with us to put down the rest of Palpatine's regime."

"But we'll win, right?" he frowned.

"Nothing is certain," Obi Wan said. "But we hope so."

"Ohhh," he sighed with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment.

Obi-Too still looked confused. "Why are we talkin about what to do after the war then? We ain't got a New Republic yet."

"Don't have," Padme corrected absently. "And it's important that when we do succeed, the Rebellion is able to provide a new government quickly and effectively. We've promised people that life will be better without the Empire. A democratic government that works is how we intend to keep that promise, and the Jedi need to know what place they want to have when that happens. It's our job as leaders to make sure that the people who trust us don't fall prey to worse things than the Empire."

"Worse than the Empire…?" he stared.

"What would you think if someone like Ma—Jabba was suddenly ruling the galaxy?" Obi Wan asked.

"Ewww," both boys twisted their faces into gruesome, horrified expressions.

"Exactly," Padme nodded, stifling a chuckle at her husband's near-lapse. "That's what might happen if we're not prepared to lead."

"Dad," Luke spoke up with a smile, "You'd really better be careful about that nickname."


	211. Daybreak

When twilight began to draw closer and Ani still hadn't shown up, Shmi and Jareth's good humor shifted. Mara couldn't blame them. He might not have known for sure that she was in Anchorhead, but he had to have to deduced what the children had come here for in the first place. It wasn't like him to leave vulnerable dependents in harm's way, especially in a case like this, where delay might cost the children's lives.

She shook her head to dispel the notion, which left a surprisingly cold feeling in the pit of her stomach and a sour taste in the back of her throat. She already knew that the Emperor had no plans to kill these two. _What_ he wanted with them was another matter. They were both quite a bit older than she had been when her training began. She wasn't sure what use that they could be to him, but certainly they couldn't be left in the hands of the Jedi. At the moment, though, she had more pressing concerns.

They had given her surprisingly little trouble thus far, but she expected that to change soon. The work day was ending, and the bar was beginning to fill up with locals who wanted a drink or two before heading home for the night. Anchorhead wasn't a large settlement, but like most desert towns, its population was not known for an excess of civility or genteel behavior. Fights could erupt without warning—especially if they were encouraged by young, Force sensitive minds in search of a quick escape route.

_Or a clever Jedi in search of a handy distraction,_ she added silently. In either case, she decided that it would be best if she and the younglings waited somewhere less conveniently populated. A word with the barkeep pointed her in the direction of the town's only rooming house, and a fat bribe ensured that Ani would receive the message she left for him.  
Mara then bought the children dinner, sighing at that necessity and at the rapidly deflating state of her purse. If she didn't feed Shmi and Jareth, though, she had no doubt that the pair would eventually trade their bickering for whining—a possibility that she found infinitely less appealing than the loss of the money it took to keep them quiet. Well. As close to quiet as the two of them ever got.

She had the food bagged to take with them and herded her two unwilling charges back out into the street. The entire situation struck her as mildly ridiculous: the Emperor's Hand stuck shepherding to bantering Jedi-trained kids around like some sort of hired nanny. Shmi and Jareth seemed to accept the situation as a matter of course, which irritated Mara, but then again, she supposed that the children couldn't really have any idea who or what she was. As far as they knew, Mara Jade was just another Imperial who had a habit of trying to abduct members of their family. Besides, both of them had already had the displeasure of two intimate encounters with Darth Vader, and after meeting him, she supposed that an ordinary-looking woman with a lightsaber would be far less intimidating.

"Where are we going now?" Shmi demanded as they strode through the dusty square.

"Looks like your father is going to owe me for a room as well as for dinner and drinks," Mara replied.

"Don't worry. He's very good about paying his debts," the little girl said smartly.

"What about yours?" quipped Mara.

"Those too," Shmi said easily.

Despite herself, Mara was beginning to like this child. She hoped that whatever the Emperor had in store for her would not mar the girl's spirit too badly. She had a strong constitution, and Mara was sure that she would serve him well. It would be a shame if undoing the early conditioning that she had received from her family damaged the core of her personality.

"Good," Mara said in response to her bantering remark. "Because this one is going to cost him."

"We'll see," Shmi answered with surprising composure.

"It might cost you a few things too," Jareth spoke up suddenly.

"Your Master hasn't managed to cost me anything yet," Mara reminded him.

"He's gotten a lot better since Yavin 4," Jareth said with a note of threat in his tone.

"I'd hope so," Mara deflected the comment casually.

"It wasn't a fair fight anyway," Shmi grumbled.

"Oh?" questioned Mara, hiding her amusement at the venomous looks the pair turned in her direction.

"Maybe you'd like to duel somebody you've never met in the middle of a jungle after just getting all your arms and legs replaced," suggested Shmi icily.

"I prefer to keep my limbs intact," Mara told her. "Staying on the right side of Lord Vader helps with that."

"He ain't got a right side anymore," Jareth shook his head.

"You may have a point," Mara smiled. "I also prefer to stay out of his reach."

"Don't guess you'd consider keeping us out of his reach too, huh?" Jareth asked.

"Vader won't trouble you much in Imperial Center," Mara assured him.

"Well, we'd also prefer to stay out of the Emperor's reach," Shmi said.

"Have you ever met the Emperor?" questioned Mara, arching her eyebrow.

"No, but my Aunt Leia has. She said he's really ugly, and he has a squished up face like this," Shmi grabbed the sides of her face and pinched her fingers together, pulling the skin into a distorted grimace. Mara stared at her, affecting a coldly unimpressed countenance. Part of her wanted to laugh, but loyalty to her Master precluded the urge. She couldn't be angry, even though she supposed that she should have been. Palpatine _was_ ugly, and the girl's frank willingness to express such a thing about the Emperor was refreshing.  
Mara's less than positive reaction didn't seem to dampen Shmi's enthusiasm for the demonstration. Since Mara proved to be an unreceptive audience, she turned her face on Jareth. Mara had enlisted him to carry the food bags, and with his arms full, he couldn't participate in the mockery, but he made up for that by critiquing Shmi's likeness and making suggestions. This led to a succession of progressively more grotesque expressions and monstrous-looking postures. The humor of their antics rapidly diminished for Mara, who was beginning to take the game as a personal affront.

"Appearances can be deceiving," she said in a tone as sharply edged with warning as any she might have used with an adult. Shmi paused and dropped her hands, shooting a nervous glance at Mara, but there was no submission in the child's posture.

Jareth regarded her with a stubborn set to his chin and an angry gaze which told her that, despite their behavior, both of them understood the threat that they were facing. He took a step closer to Shmi as if to shield her from any possible recriminations from their captor. Slowly, he turned away from Mara, and she assumed that the exchange was over. Satisfied that her point was made, she prodded the two of them forward.

"I think a guy who'd take a bunch of kids away from their families for no reason is pretty ugly no matter what he looks like," Shmi said flatly.  
Mara Jade stared into the darkening night and made no reply.

* * *

A heavy silence hung over Jabba's darkened throne room as Leia made her way off the steps. Her mouth was dry underneath the helmet she wore, and her heart hammered so heavily in her chest that it seemed as though the shaking in her hands echoed the rhythm. She stilled herself, using a quick Jedi calming technique to settle the rampaging mix of fear, hope, anticipation, and worry that battered her ability to focus. So much hung on the next few minutes; so much effort and sacrifice had gone into bringing them to pass, not only on her part but for all of her family. She couldn't think about it now, though. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of distraction.

Carefully, she picked her way through the debris of the earlier revelry and eased herself past the unconscious bodies of various drunk, snoring, aliens. Han's carbonite block hung suspended on the far wall, a macabre trophy and unspoken message to anyone who might entertain the notion of trying to stiff Jabba the Hutt. She wanted to run toward it, but she didn't dare.

Making her way as quickly and quietly as possible to the control panel, she lowered the block and winced behind her mask at the racket it made clunking to the floor. She stole a glance at Han, trying not to think about the possible consequences of a year spent frozen in carbonite. She could sense that he was still alive in there, and for the moment, that was all that mattered. Quickly, she activated the decarbonation process and then stepped back. Her breath caught in her throat as the cold block began to glow bright red. The case began to emit low whine as the temperature rose, and the hard shell that covered the contours of Han's face finally melted away. Watching, Leia felt as if her own body were coming alive with his—more than her body, more even than her heart. Han's hands, thrown forward in a reflexive gesture of fear and protest, folded inward. His facial muscles relaxed, and he fell forward, leaving behind a human-shaped indent in the carbonite block.

Swallowing hard, Leia moved toward him and knelt, laying a gentle hand on his wet, quivering back. The tremors increased as she turned him over, making it difficult to get him into a less awkward position. She held him from behind, using her knees to support him, but he lurched away, his head moving fruitlessly from side to side as he tried to get his bearings. Leia moved closer, trying to slip an arm around his shoulders. He struggled instinctively, and she leaned closer, urging him to be still.

"Just relax for a moment. You're free of the carbonite," she said, though her voice could hardly have been comforting to him as it was filtered through the helmet. She thought it sounded something like a metallic frog as she added, "Shh. You have hibernation sickness."

"I can't see," Han forced out fearfully.

"Your eyesight will return in time," she promised.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"We're in Jabba's palace," she explained.

His hand brushed the front of her helmet and he recoiled, more from shock than fear. "Who are you?"

Leia lifted off the bulky helmet and took a moment to look at him. Then, in a voice husky with so many emotions that she couldn't even begin to name them all, she replied, "Someone who loves you."

"Leia!" his voice broke on the word.

She leaned forward again, and their lips met with the passionate relief and fervent, indescribable relief of two people who had been faced with the nightmarish reality that the war they were fighting might have ended their life together before it began. With a sudden, heartbreaking clarity, Leia understood the relief that her parents had felt when Padme raced to Obi Wan's arms at the end of the battle of Geonosis—and again, countless other times throughout the Clone Wars.

Gently, Han's hand drifted up to her cheek as their mouths moved apart. His touch was hesitant, uncertain with the loss of his eyesight, and she could still feel the muscles trembling with the effects of the hibernation sickness, but he smiled roguishly.

"Thanks for the rescue, Your Worship," he said.

"Always," she promised. Then, briskly, she moved to help him up. "C'mon. I gotta get you out of here."


	212. The Eyes of the Enemy

The building that Mara took the kids to turned out to be a squat, old brick place with sides that jutted out in an irregular fashion. To Shmi it looked like it had once been an ordinary house that was added onto when someone got the bright idea to let out rooms. It was small, and only one story, which she found unsurprising. She didn't think they'd get a lot of travelers around here. Han said most people stuck close to the spaceports on Tatooine unless they lived here. The owner was a big, dark blue being of a species that she didn't recognize. She wasn't sure whether it was male or female, since it had no hair or other identifying characteristics, and it was dressed in a sort of pantsuit that could have been worn by either gender. The warbly, mid-range voice offered no clues, though it was friendly enough in a businesslike way. The most distinctive features were the two long, fluted appendages atop its round head, and they swiveled in opposite directions as it talked to Mara and led the group inside.

They trooped through a wide common area with an open doorway on either side, then into a tiny office cubicle at the back, where the two adults discussed rates and rules while Shmi and Jareth picked at the food they'd brought with them. A warning glare from Mara Jade brought that activity to a quick halt, and Shmi occupied herself by examining the surroundings in hopes of a way to escape, or at least to help her father when he showed up.

The grown-ups' business didn't take long, and once it was concluded, the group walked back through the common room and into the short hallway on the left side. There were three doors there, two on either side and one at the far end. Mara wanted the one at the end, but the proprietor shook its head, and after another brief exchange, she acquiesced and led the kids into the empty one they were offered.

The inside was kind of dark and dingy, but it was cleaner than Shmi expected. There was a single bed in the middle, a chair, which Mara promptly moved into a corner where she could see both the door and the small, rectangular window. Shmi gave the window a speculative look, but it was too high up for her to climb. Jareth might be able to make it by himself, but one hostage would be as good as two, and she didn't think that she could convince him to go even if an opportunity presented itself. A wave of Mara's hand brought the wooden shutters banging into place, and the latch followed, sliding into place with a solid click.

"Are you going to keep us here all night?" Shmi asked as she eased onto the edge of the bed.

"Can we eat now?" added Jareth. He moved onto the bed as well, setting the bag between them.

"Yes," Mara told him crisply. Then she folded her hands in front of her lips and studied Shmi for a tense moment. The girl squared her shoulders and looked back her steadily, trying hard not to shrink back from the woman's intense gaze. There was something both compelling and frightening in the stare. She had no doubt that Mara was capable of doing the things that she had foreseen, and yet there was no malevolence in her eyes. Shmi had been around Vader enough to know what evil felt like in the Force, and she didn't sense that now.  
Her Uncle Luke had always insisted that Mara Jade wasn't evil. Shmi never gave the question much thought. Evil or not, she served the Emperor, and she wanted to kill the Kenobis. She wasn't sure what made it important now. They were sitting here because she _still_ wanted to kill members of the family. Maybe it mattered because Shmi couldn't understand it. Her grandmother and Aunt Leia often said that the key to resolving problems was understanding what the people really wanted. It was easy for her to grasp what made the Emperor want to be rid of them. Right now, the Kenobis were all that was left of the Jedi Order, and he knew that as long as they were around, he would never completely rule the galaxy. She could even understand a little of what Vader was so mad about—especially since everybody was always talking about how Palpatine had lied to him all his life. Mara was a complete mystery to her. She wasn't stuck in a Vader suit, and she wasn't evil, so what was she doing working for old prune-face? Shmi had no idea what good that kind of information was going to do, but since she couldn't see a direct escape route, she reasoned that a little more knowledge might open another door. Of course, first, she had to get the staring contest over with…

The corner of Mara's mouth twitched upward. "For your father's sake, I hope it doesn't come to that."

Shmi pressed her lips into a worried line and let her eyes slide away. She wanted to assert that Ani would be there soon, but there was no way she could do that. She was the one who'd asked the question in the first place. She really had no idea where Ani was or why it was taking him so long to get here. He'd probably had to walk all the way in to Anchorhead from the house, but it still shouldn't have taken him _this_ long.

"It won't," Jareth spoke up with conviction. He slid a protective arm around Shmi and added, "My Master will be here."

"Good," Mara replied in a tone that said she truly would relish his arrival.

Shmi fought a shiver. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because the two of you thought it would be a good idea to shoot me in an alley," Mara answered with a faint shrug.

"I _mean_ why are you doing this at all? Why do you hate my father? And why are you trying to kill our family? We never did anything to you," Shmi shook her head hotly.

"Eat," directed Mara.

Shmi sighed and turned to help Jareth unpack the bag. Another time she might have kept fishing for an answer, but she wasn't sure how far she could really push Mara Jade, and she didn't want to find out the hard way. If the woman didn't want to talk, forcing her wouldn't get them very far. The best thing that she and Jareth could do for now was cooperate—and wait for the right chance to make a break for it.

* * *

Lando repressed a grimace as Jabba's obscene cackle pierced the relative quiet of the throne room. The sound alone was enough to raise the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. The fact that he was standing amid a horde of the Hutt's monstrous cronies increased the effect exponentially, despite the fact that his cover was solid and Jabba had no idea who he really was. He would have felt a lot better about this whole plan if Leia had been hiding a lightsaber up her sleeve again, but there had been neither time nor opportunity for her to build one. Before he parted ways with her and Chewie, she had assured him that it wouldn't be a problem, but there were too many elements of this plan that were left to chance. The boys had to be able to get here _and_ get in, the droids had to able to get close enough, and Jabba might get wise too quickly and decide to eliminate them all. He should have been used to this sort of thing by now, but there were some things about the Kenobis that he didn't think he would ever be able to accept, and their reliance on the Force was a big one.

"What's that?" Han's voice drew him out of his thoughts. "I know that laugh…"

The curtains at either side of the alcove parted, trapping Solo and the princess between two groups of guards and attendants. Threepio hovered nervously behind Jabba, and Lando felt a trace of sympathy for the poor blabbermouth, who had no idea what was going on. Han wouldn't, either, of course, but at least Han would realize that there was a trap-springing in the process here. Jabba laughed again, and his lackeys joined him in a lurid cacophony of alien gleed.

"Hey, Jabba," Han attempted nervously. "Look, Jabba, I was just on my way to pay you back, but I got a little sidetracked. It's not my fault."

"It's too late for that, Solo. You may have been a good smuggler, but now you're Bantha fodder," declared the Hutt.

"Look," Han tried again, but Jabba cut him off with a brusque order.

"Take him away!"

"Jabba—I'll pay you triple!" offered Han as the guards closed in around him. "You're throwing away a fortune here. Don't be a fool!"

They grabbed his arms, dragging him off, and Lando moved quickly toward Leia. He stepped up behind her, taking her arm. The plan was for him to leave the cell door unlocked for her, but Jabba spoke again, sending a cold chill through him with the next order.

"Bring her to me," the monster commanded.

_I knew I didn't like this plan,_ Lando thought, reluctantly guiding the Princess toward the crimelord. Even Threepio cringed from his vantage point behind the Hutt. One of the remaining guards took her other arm, and she made a show of struggling as they moved toward Jabba.

They forced her to within inches of his massive girth, and Lando was glad that his helmet at least masked his reaction to the noxious odor that he gave off. Leia had no such protection, but to her credit, she didn't flinch away.

"We have powerful friends," she warned, which Lando supposed was true enough. The question was whether or not any of them were going to be able to help. He held back a sigh, realizing that all of their lives might soon depend on him, and he had no immediate means of getting them out of here.

_Well,_ he told himself, _At least he doesn't seem to know she's a Jedi._

That might be enough to turn the game if they played their cards right. One Jedi padawan against a whole palace full of Jabba's guards and other "associates" seemed like rather long odds, but Jabba also didn't suspect _him_ which gave them an ace in the whole.

"You're gonna regret this," Leia went on, though there was a distinct note of worry in her voice. Lando wasn't sure if it was genuine or not. She'd been a good actress so far, and he hoped that this was just more demonstration of her skill in deception. There _was_, after all, a possibility that Jabba _might_ be made to regret it— as long as her brothers could get inside the palace and nothing else went wrong.

Jabba met the threat with more laughter. "I'm sure."

The stench of his breath at such close range proved to be too much for even Leia's schooled composure. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away with a cry of disgust.

"Oh, I can't bear to watch," exclaimed Threepio mournfully.

_Neither can I,_ Lando thought with an inward wince.


	213. What Matters Now

The powerfully muscled hands of Jabba's guards dragged Han through a confusing maze of halls and down a long flight of steps that he knew he would have no hope of navigating even if he had been able to see where he was going. He stumbled several times and was hauled to his feet again with rough impatience. He assumed that the grunts and snarls which accompanied the manhandling were either complaints or warnings not to fall again, but they weren't speaking Huttese, so he couldn't be sure. He yelled back anyway, assuming that they must understand Basic, but neither of them seemed to grasp the logic that dragging a blind prisoner down a flight of stairs was a bad idea if they wanted to keep the guy on his feet.

After what seemed like an interminable length of time, they brought him to an abrupt halt. From the increase in stink, he guessed they had arrived in Jabba's dungeon or whatever other place he held prisoners in the palace. Stopping was a relief—at least standing still, he could get his bearings and there was less chance of being knocked over. The location, on the other hand, was a definite drawback.

He heard a heavy metal door begin to scrape and creak open. There was a clanking noise, then a long, low groan, which increased in volume as the door moved. The hands of his tour guides shoved him forward, and he staggered into a cell. He reached out his arms, trying to find walls, ceiling, or anything that he could use as a point of reference. Then a growl sounded from somewhere nearby, and he instinctively turned toward it. Whatever was making the noises started to move closer, and he backed up a pace, straining uselessly to see what it was.

As it got closer, though, he realized that there was something familiar about it. It wasn't a _growl_ at all—well, okay was a growl, but it was a growl in a language he recognized—and the voice was one he knew better than his own. It couldn't be, though. What was _Chewie_ doing in Jabba's dungeon?

"Chewie?" he asked in disbelief. "Chewie, is that you?"

Large furry hands grabbed him, and more manhandling followed, but this time Han didn't mind. He'd been glad to see Chewie plenty of times, but he didn't think he'd ever been so relieved _not_ to see the big Wookiee. He latched on as his friend heaved him around like some kind of human cargo he was hauling into the Falcon's hold, barely able to tell whether he was still right side up.

"Ah! Chew—Chewie!" he cried.

"It worked!" The Wookiee barked with glee, still shaking him back and forth like a rag doll in his excitement. "You're alive!"

"Worked—what? Wait—I can't see, pal!" he said. "What's goin' on?"

"Don't worry," Chewie told him. "Luke and Ani will be here to rescue us in the morning. Lando's gonna unlock the cell doors—"

"_Luke and Ani?_" Han interrupted incredulously. "Luke and Ani are crazy! Neither one of them can even take care of themselves, much less rescue anybody."

"Ani's a Jedi Knight," Chewie argued. "And Luke's…almost one. Kind of."

"I don't care if he's a Jedi Knight! You remember what happened when we tried to rescue Leia from the Death Star? Geez! I—I'm out of it for a little while and everybody gets delusions of grandeur!"

"Well, Leia's here too, and Obi Wan's going to Knight her once we get out of this mess," said Chewie hopefully.

"Knight her?" Han repeated, pulling back a little in surprise. A proud smile curved his lips. "Now that I believe. _If_ we can get out of this mess."

"We will," Chewie promised, pulling him around into another hug. He pet Han's head protectively, telling him not to worry, but his sudden gentleness told the smuggler just how worried that he was—or at least had been. He reached up to give the big arm a reassuring pat.

"I'm all right, pal," he said. "I'm all right."

That assertion didn't do much to assuage the Wookiee's concern, but for the moment Han didn't mind being stuck in a massive hug. He wasn't surprised that there was more going on here than there seemed to be. The Kenobis had an annoying habit of walking into traps, and letting themselves be captured in order to spring a prisoner seemed like just the kind of insane plan that they would come up with.

"Obi Wan can still get us out if the boys screw it up," Chewie offered.

"How's he gonna get here in time?" Han sighed.

"He's here already," explained Chewie.

"What?!" Han made a futile attempt to twist around in Chewie's arms, instinctively trying to look at his friend's face even though he couldn't actually _see_ anything.

"Padme too," Chewie told him.

"Mom and the old man are _here_?!" Han repeated. "I don't believe this!"

"The whole family's here," said Chewie. "On the farm."

"What are they _all_ doing here?" he demanded.  
"We came to get you," Chewie said as if this was a perfectly sensible answer.

Han opened and shut his mouth several times, trying to come up with a response that didn't sound idiotic. Finally, he gave a flippant nod and said, "Oh. Well, of course. That makes perfect sense. The whole family leaves the safety of the Fleet and holes up on a burnt out moisture farm where the Empire already knows they used to live. Then everybody walks in to Jabba's palace and lets themselves get captured. That makes perfect sense. What a _great_ plan!"

Chewie patted his head soothingly and said nothing. Sighing, Han rubbed his eyes with his fingertips and tried not to think about what was going to happen to them if this plan didn't work. While he was casting about for something else to occupy his mind, an welcome realization struck him. He let out a long, low groan.

"Chewie…?"

"What?"

"Did they bring the kids?"

"Of course they did. What else were they supposed to do with them? Why?"

"Why?" Han cried, letting his hand fall away from his face. "We spent three years taking Shmi everywhere we went, and you still have to ask why?"

* * *

Hardy followed Ani and Isaly through the dark, dusty streets of Anchorhead. They had a slight advantage over Mara Jade in that the Kenobis knew the town well enough that they could predict her movements. Moving as quietly and stealthily as they could, the cloaked rescue party crossed the square and slipped into a narrow, winding alleyway that led them around to the back of a squat one story building with irregular jutting wings attached to either side.

Ani stood silently for several seconds, his head tilted slightly in a familiar posture of concentration. Then he looked up, one hand pointing to a shuttered window on their left. Hardy gave a faint nod of acknowledgement, and the trio moved off again, melting back into the shadows. It wouldn't take Mara Jade long to figure out that they were there, and the message she'd left at the bar indicated that she wanted Ani to come alone. Whether or not she actually expected him to do that remained to be seen, but one way or another, they didn't want to risk premature discovery.

They moved back through the alley without speaking. Reaching the front of the building, they hurried across the street and ducked under the awning of another business, concealing themselves in the shadows it cast. Hardy kept a wary eye on the door of the street, but the desert town might as well have been empty for all the activity he saw.

"All right," Ani said in a tense whisper. "Hardy, give me ten minutes and then go through that window. She won't bring the kids out with her, so they'll likely be bound in there."

"Are you sure about that?" Hardy asked. "What if she decides it's better to use the kids as a shield."

"She wants to kill me," Ani shook his head flatly. "She can't do that if she's busy trying to hold on to Shmi and Jareth."

Hardy blew out a breath, allowing a slight smile to flicker over his mouth at the comment. If there was anything that Shmi and Jareth could be counted on to do, it would be to make an escape as difficult as possible for their captor. Given that this particular captor wanted to take them to Palpatine, they would be extremely well motivated to get away from her. The former stormtrooper had a good deal of experience in how adept the young pair could be in worming their way out of captivity, and he didn't envy Mara Jade her position.

Still, he didn't like the idea of Ani walking straight in when they knew that Mara wouldn't be trying to take him alive this time. He wasn't a soldier—a Jedi, yes, but not one acquainted with the baser necessities of war the way that Obi Wan or even Luke was. He was still very much a moisture farmer, a point which Hardy had seen illustrated in dozens of subtle ways during the brief few days that the family had been back on Tatooine. It was a rough planet, and its people were not accustomed to a soft or easy life, but…a farmboy was still a farmboy when all was said and done.  
"Isaly's smaller than me," he said. "She'd have an easier time getting through that window."

Ani didn't reply. In the darkness, Hardy couldn't see the other man's face, but he could easily picture his friend's eyebrow rising in a gentle but very pointed question. He held his ground. Both of them knew that he didn't _want_ to be set against Mara Jade—or any other person who served the Emperor. He couldn't argue that point, and he wouldn't in any case. He also wasn't going to stand here discussing whether or not he _would_ do what had to be done.

"I have another job to do," Isaly said, breaking the impasse. She squatted close to the ground, and Hardy saw her reach into the folds of her cloak. She removed the familiar shape of a medkit and opened it, her hands moving quickly and skillfully behind the lid. A few seconds later, she closed it, and he saw her slip something onto the end of her right index finger.

Hardy sighed, waving his hand toward the kit in frustration. "I don't like this idea either!"

"It's better than trying to shoot her," Isaly replied, slipping the box back into her cloak.

"Why is that, exactly?" Hardy challenged.

"Suppose she knows how to do Vader's little trick with blaster bolts," Isaly said as she straightened. "Then where will I be?"

"About the same place you'll be if that work or she grabs you first," Hardy countered.

"It's risky," nodded Isaly. "I still think it's a better option. It'll work as long as she's distracted and her back is to me as she comes out the door."

"And that's my job," Ani nodded. "One way or another, we don't have time to argue about it. She knows I'm here by now."

"All right," Hardy nodded reluctantly. He turned, starting back across the street, but Ani's hand touched his shoulder, and he looked back with a silent question.

"Thank you. And may the Force be with you."

"With all of us," he corrected simply. Then he sprinted across the street and back into the alley. He still didn't really know what he was doing here, but for the moment at least, he decided it didn't matter.


	214. Who Will Bridge The Night

Mara Jade was waiting for Ani when he stepped inside the common room. Her slender yet menacing silhouette leaned casually against the wall just beyond the arch that led into one of the halls on either side of the room. She pushed herself erect and slipped out to meet him, her movements languid and graceful, posture deceptively relaxed. A lightsaber dangled unlit in her right hand, but Ani kept his own weapon on his belt and raised his hands in a gesture of peaceful intent.

"Hello, Mara Jade," he began casually.

"Ani," she greeted with a half-smile.

"Where are Shmi and Jareth?" he asked.

"They're safe enough for the time being," she replied. "As long as you followed my instructions carefully."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you see anyone with me?"

"I know better than to trust my senses, Jedi," Mara responded with a touch of venom as she spoke the title.

"Then we're even," he shrugged, nonplussed.

"It would appear so," Mara replied sardonically.

Ani felt his lips twitch with amusement. Mara Jade continued to drift toward him, maintaining the deceptively unhurried pace. Their eyes moved over one another slowly, each taking stock of the other. Then with unconscious symmetry, both of them began to circle around the other. Noting that she still held her lightsaber unlit at her side, Ani made no move for his. He stretched out with his feelings, gauging her in the Force, and sensed her doing the same.

Despite the adversarial nature of the encounter and of her relationship with the Kenobis in general, he could feel that she regarded him with respect. There was no slacking in the animosity that he remembered from their brief meeting on Yavin 4, but it was now colored with the grudging esteem one held for a well-studied and worthy adversary—or group of adversaries, in this case. Ani and Isaly had been on Dagobah for most of the last four years. They'd run into Mara Jade several times since Cloud City, and she was always a doggedly determined, extremely aggressive and hard to get rid of opponent. However, from what the twins and Obi Wan had told him, her pursuit of the Kenobis seemed to have actually become less direct and intensive. His best guess was that Vader's personal interest in the family necessitated a more circumspect approach for her, but speculation on the subject served no purpose. What it boiled down to was that he was one of the Kenobis that Mara knew the least about, and conversely, his own knowledge of her was limited.

That made the familiarity and level of comfort she had with him all the more surprising. Certainly, most of the reason for it was that she associated him with the collective idea of "Kenobi," but there was something else as well. He couldn't quite identify the tenuous connection he detected in the Force, but it was there, and whether or not Mara Jade was overtly aware of it, her perception of him was affected. He may have been "adversary," because they were on opposite sides of the war, but he didn't think still registered him as "enemy," even if she might have wanted to.

"You Kenobis have a habit of popping up when you're least expected," she said ironically.

"I heard about that little misadventure," he smiled. "The family sort of has a standing policy on traps."

"So I've learned," she smirked back. "Your daughter's quite a pilot, but she's not much of a shot with a blaster."

"Thank you," he said with a glib nod and a tone that held an underlying note of rueful sincerity. "I'm sure she'll improve. She's still quite young to be using weapons of war."

"Point," Mara admitted.

Ani wished he didn't like this woman quite so much. She was a threat to his family, a servant of the person and the ideal that he had vowed to destroy, and every interaction that he had with her resulted in violence. Her purpose in life, so far as he could tell, seemed to be the diametric opposite of his own. Yet, he sensed no malice in her. The hatred she felt was for what he believed—for his allegiance to principles and organizations that opposed the things she valued.

_That's different,_ he realized thoughtfully. When they met on Yavin 4, she _had_ hated him, inasmuch as she actually knew him. She had despised and wanted to destroy him simply because he bore the name Kenobi.

Something had changed over the last four years. He couldn't begin to imagine what, and he doubted that he would have a chance to find out. He wasn't familiar enough with her for his intuitive or empathic gifts to be of much use. The one thing he knew with certainty was that there was less of the Dark Side in Mara Jade than there was in Vader, whom Ani was determined to save.

"Are the kids all right?" he asked, realizing that had neither the time nor the credibility to engage in a discussion about whether or not they had to be enemies.

"For the moment," she nodded slightly. "That might change if I have to keep them much longer."

"Maybe I should be asking whether you're all right," he smiled.

"I'll live," Mara replied with a shrug. "You won't be so fortunate this time."

"Look, we don't have to fight," he offered, though he already knew that she had no intention of agreeing to a hostage swap. The Jedi way was to avoid conflict wherever necessary, and he was obligated to at least try to resolve the situation peacefully first.

Mara rolled her eyes. "Then what would you suggest? A game of sabaac?"

"I'm afraid I'm not very good at sabaac," Ani apologized. "It wouldn't be much of a contest."

"The same could be said for your skill with a lightsaber," quipped Mara.

"That's not a fair statement," Ani countered.

"Oh, dear," Mara said mock-fretfully. "Why not?"

"For one thing, I didn't even _have_ a lightsaber the last time we fought," Ani pointed out.

"You call that a fight?" scoffed Mara.

"You had me at a disadvantage on Yavin 4," Ani told her frankly. "I won't be so easily beaten now."

"So your young apprentice assures me," Mara said as her lightsaber flowed to life. "I hope he's right."

"Mara, there's no need for this. I don't want either of us to get hurt," Ani said, taking a careful step back. He called the remaining half of his saberstaff from his belt clip, but didn't ignite the weapon. "Just let Shmi and Jareth go. I give you my word I'll accompany you to the Emperor without trouble."

"You'll accompany me, all right," Mara threatened, raising the magenta blade as she vaulted through the air toward him.

* * *

Hardy had very little trouble forcing open the wood-shuttered window. Wriggling through the narrow rectangular opening into the room where the kids were supposed to be was another matter. His shoulders were too wide to fit through together, so he had to ease his arms in one at a time, then pull, tug and shimmy himself the rest of the way. In the process, he badly scraped up both arms, then lost his balance once he had pulled his upper body and waist through the opening. He toppled onto the floor head first, flipped his legs around and lay there staring at the ceiling.

"Kenobis," he muttered, rolling onto his side and massaging his head with one hand. He pushed himself to his feet and looked around the dingy room, the mild annoyance he felt rapidly chilling to icy fear as he realized that he wasn't being accosted by frightened juvenile delinquents.

There was a greasy bag on the floor beside the bed, and it was packed tight with empty food containers, which had to mean that the kids had been here. It couldn't have been very long ago, either, if Ani's Jedi senses had pinpointed them here. He scanned the area, but aside from the bare bed, a single chair that was propped in a corner, and the food sack, he saw nothing out of place.

After a few seconds, he spotted the darker shadow of a closet door along one wall, and the tightness in his chest eased a bit. At virtually the same moment, two muffled but familiar voices began to utter a cacophony of garbled, semi-articulate cries for help. He strode to the door and hurriedly opened it, feeling slightly vindicated when Shmi and Jareth tumbled onto the floor by his feet.

They were tied together with what looked like long strips of torn linen—the missing sheets from the bed, he surmised—and the material had been so thoroughly and expertly wound about their bodies that they were held entirely immobile. Shorter pieces of fabric, which he guessed were from a pillowcase, had been stuffed in their mouths, but if the gags were meant to actually keep them quiet, they were unsuccessful. He wasn't sure whether the muffling was an improvement or not, but he was sure that Shmi would have quite a few things to say about Mara Jade's method when she could actually communicate again. As he knelt to untie the pair, he wasn't sure whether he felt sorrier for Jareth or Mara.

He momentarily considered leaving her gag in place after he had removed Jareth's, but ultimately he decided against it, since he realized that if he did that, he would also have to bear the brunt of her temper once they were out of here. It turned out that he had to cut them loose, which took longer once enough of the bindings were released to allow the kids some movement. Both of them were furious and struggled to pull themselves free, but all their wriggling only made Hardy's efforts to get them untied more difficult.

"All right, all right, will you stop wiggling before I cut somebody by accident?" he told them finally.

"Hardy, where's Daddy?" Shmi demanded.

"He's supposed to be keeping Mara Jade busy so I can get you two out of here," he said. "It would help if you held still for five seconds!"

"But Mara Jade wants to kill him!" exclaimed Jareth.

Hardy sighed and set his knife on the floor, giving the pair a long, hard look. "Really. I hadn't figured that out yet. In that case, maybe we should get out of here as soon as possible."

They grudgingly took the hint and allowed him to get them unattached, but by the time he managed it, he was casting worried glances toward the door. The familiar and unwelcome hum and clash of a lightsaber fight could be heard beyond it, along with the more common noise of crashing furniture and things being thrown against walls.

"Come on, Shmi, we have to help—" Jareth began as soon as the kids were on their feet.

Hardy clamped a hand down firmly on each of their shoulders, forcibly dragging them toward the window. When they tried to break free, he stopped and hoisted them up under his arms—which seemed to be the only successful method of corralling Kenobi children. They kicked and writhed, further bruising his arms and sides, but he paid no attention.

"You two have helped enough," he said as he reached the window. "Ani's got everything under control out there. For now anyway. Our job is to get out that window before he gets into trouble he can't handle. I'm going to put you down, and you're going to climb out the window. Anybody runs, and I _will_ shoot them, understand?"


	215. Cadence of Their Last Breath

Ani Force-leapt backwards, somersaulting over the couch in the center of the room. He landed behind it just as Mara's lightsaber arced downward to slice the unfortunate piece of furniture in half. It caved inward as the proprietor, a blue being whom Ani vaguely remembered from his infrequent trips to Anchorhead, came racing out of its office, arms waving in dismay.

"Get back in there!" he warned as Mara's weapon slashed toward his right shoulder. He half-turned, bringing his own blade up in a high block. The momentum of his movement generated enough energy to turn her blow aside, and he sprang away before she could make a second strike. If he had to fight to get her outside, he didn't want to do so with innocents in the way.

This time he landed on a narrow end-table with barely enough room on its flat surface for both of his feet to rest side by side. Mara picked up one of the couch-halves with the Force and hurled it at his chest. With little room and no way to duck effectively, he spun his blade out to meet it, and the two new couch-quarters crashed to the ground on either side of the table.

By the time they hit the floor, Mara was already flying toward him. He sprang back, landing with his weapon angled horizontally across his chest to block her incoming attack. The blades clashed and squealed with the contact, then hummed and crackled as the combatants drew apart and lunged again in a rapid series of Force-aided attacks and counter-attacks.

Mara's movements were too fast for Ani's eyes to track, but he didn't need to. Allowing the Force to guide his body, he bent and flowed with its urgings, and the green blade met its enemy in a fluid, flawless rhythm. They were evenly matched in fighting skill now, and although Mara Jade's anger gave her a ready source of additional Force-power, the training that Ani had received from Mace negated the advantage it would have otherwise given her. He had no anger toward the woman; more than ever, he agreed with Luke's perception of her as another of the Emperor's victims, but he no longer saw his own feelings as the enemy. He could use his natural excitement and enjoyment of the challenge that she presented him as a swordsman. By channeling that into his use of the Force and counterbalancing it with the intense and fiercely protective drive of a parent to ensure the safety of dependent children, he could walk the razor-thin edge between the Light and Dark sides of the Force in the essence of Windu's Vapaad.

"Jareth was right," she said with a note of surprise in her voice. Her lightsaber rebounded off of Ani's as she spoke, and she pivoted with the blow, executing a full turn that brought her blade singing around in a tight arc aimed to sever his head from his neck.

He ducked smoothly, dancing back out of her range. "Do you have to sound so shocked?"

"He _is_ your student," she replied as she closed the distance again and cut her blade down toward his left leg. "Besides, I never have had much hope for farmboys."

He sprang upward to avoid the attack, flipped over her head and landed neatly behind her. She spun to meet him without missing a beat, and their weapons crossed in front of them. "Well, as my brother once said, I think you'll find that we farmboys are full of surprises."

"Thrilling," replied Mara, giving him a hard shove to break the saber lock.

"I'm glad you approve," Ani said as he stepped back to maintain his balance and waited for her to advance again.  
"You won't be for long," Mara smiled. She came at him with another series of quick yet elegant cuts and slashes. There was a scintillating pattern to the attack, rather like the pre-strike dance of a venomous serpent. Each stroke was carefully aimed at a key body-target zone and they were all meant to kill with a single blow. Even as he deflected them, Ani had to admire the skill of an opponent who could match such deadly precision with artful, flowing grace.

"No, probably not," Ani admitted.

"I'm rather enjoying this," she commented. "It's almost a shame to have to kill you, Kenobi."

"Then why don't we stop this?" he suggested.

"You'd prefer I shot you?" she asked.

"No, I'd prefer we found another solution," he said pointedly. "One that doesn't involve needless bloodshed."

"You should have considered that before you joined the Rebellion," Mara said vehemently. With the statement, her attack took on a new ferocity. Her Force power seemed redoubled, and her lightsaber battered at Ani's defenses, forcing him to pull his circle of defense tighter.

"Well, in that case, fighting seemed better than the alternative," he responded.

"Now, that's not a very Jedi attitude," chided Mara mockingly.

"No, it's not," Ani shook his head. "But then, most Jedi don't face the prospect of having their homes burned down, children kidnapped, and the rest of their families executed."

He sensed a slight shift in Mara's emotions at the statement, felt a faint hesitation, but her attack didn't waver. In fact, she came at him with fresh resolve, and all she said was, "Do you think you could save the propaganda for another time?"

"I didn't think there was going to be another time," he reminded her with an ironic smile as he deflected her latest blow and spun out of the exchange, trying to break her offensive momentum.

"Hmm," she pondered, following easily and pressing with the same relentless energy. "You'll have to skip it then, won't you?"

"Apparently so," Ani said, sighing as he realized that his back was now facing the exit outside of which Isaly was supposed to be positioned, waiting for him to drive Mara through. "Answer me one question, though."

"What's that?" she inquired in surprise.

"Why do you people _always_ have to be so difficult?!"

"It's a gift," she shot without missing a beat.

"Marvelous," he muttered, reaching out through the Force for one of the discarded couch sections that littered the floor. "Well, just once, I'd like to face an opponent who didn't have that particular gift."

"You won't have to worry about it after tonight in any case," she pointed out.

"We'll see," Ani replied as the chunk of furniture swerved through the air and angled itself at her right side. He expected her to turn into it, using her lightsaber to cut it into smaller pieces the way he had done earlier. Instead, she dove out of the way, relying on the Force to augment her balance as she pivoted to sweep her lightsaber toward his lower legs.

He vaulted toward the ceiling, barely managing to avoid the loss of his feet in the process. He tucked his legs up into a forward roll position, cleared Mara's follow-through upswing, and landed behind her with his lightsaber angled behind his back to meet the next, viciously powerful arc of her blade. Quickly spinning around, he found himself on the receiving end of yet another aggressive flurry. Being on the defensive end of a duel, was natural to Ani, though—more so, in fact, than his adaption of Vapaad, since most of his early training was in Soresu. He parried and dodged Mara's attacks with calm, unruffled proficiency, and carefully took stock of her reactions.

Though her attacks did not slow, he could feel her drawing more heavily on the Force and knew that she was beginning to feel fatigue. As good as she was with a lightsaber, he had the advantage in both size and physical strength. Those may not have been determining factors in someone's ability to use the Force, but they certainly had a part to play in saber combat. A physically stronger opponent expended less energy, could exert more force, and throw more weight into each swing. While those tactics could easily be turned against a careless attacker, judicious use of such physical benefits by a defensively minded opponent would take their toll over the course of extended combat.

It was in Mara Jade's best interest to end the duel quickly, and she knew it. The longer they fought, the more the tide turned in Ani's favor. Further, although she didn't realize it, her determination to kill him worked against her. She _had_ to win and would therefore be willing to waste more of her reserves and take greater risks. Ani's goal, on the other hand, was simply to get her out the door. His immediate purpose—to make sure that her back was facing Isaly as they stepped outside—had been accomplished when she had to dodge the piece of couch.

Now, as the contest wore on, she became increasingly angry and determined to finish him, knowing that if she didn't, he might well be able to finish _her_. Her aggressive feelings made her stronger and provided focus, but it was a narrow focus which ultimately prevented her from grasping the larger picture. Ani didn't have to turn the tide of the battle; he didn't need to become the aggressor. All he had to do was to wait and gradually nudge the direction of the combat into the street. Mara knew where they were going, of course. She was too good at what she did to ever become unaware of her surroundings, but as far as she was concerned, one place to kill Ani Kenobi was as good as another. Street or floor made no difference to her, and with a subtle pressure from Ani's mind, she realized a split second too late that there was someone else crouched in the shadows by outside the door.

Ani lunged forward as Isaly sprang at their opponent's back. With a deft twist of the Jedi's wrist, Mara Jade's lightsaber went spinning out of her grasp. The magenta flare of the blade whirled off into the night and Mara made an instinctive half turn away from Ani, using the Force to hurl Isaly away. Expecting the maneuver, Ani reached into the Force as well, extending his left arm in an unconscious motion of beckoning to slow and cushion her fall.

"Mommy!" he heard Shmi's voice pierce the darkness as she, Hardy, and Jareth came racing around from the other side of the building.

"Stay there, Little One!" Isaly ordered, her voice tight with the pain of her impact with the desert floor.

At the same time, Mara Jade took a single, wobbly step backward. Her head swiveled from side to side in drug-induced confusion, but she raised her right hand, calling her lightsaber into her grip with single-minded determination. The glint of the metal hilt flew about halfway toward her before it suddenly stalled, dipped toward the ground, and then did an about face, swerving gently into Shmi's waiting hand. Ani smiled gently as the first glimmer of understanding began to push its way to the surface of his mind.

Mara staggered, managing to give the girl a look that was at once furious and stupefied before she sagged toward the sand. Ani thumbed off his lightsaber as he stepped forward to catch her, lightly and easily lifting the young woman into his arms. Her head lolled backwards, drooping over his arm in a decidedly undignified fashion, and his smile widened.

"Looks like you won't be taking any trophies home this time, Mara Jade."


	216. Where We Are Tonight

Sorry about the delay in updates again. I had a six-day migraine earlier this month and then had a major case of writer's block. Hopefully things can get back on track in April.

* * *

Obi Wan and Padme had no illusions about getting to sleep that night. With the twins already feeling the family's worry over Han and everyone involved in the rescue attempt, the addition of anxiety over Shmi and Jareth—not to mention their parents and Hardy—made rest a long time coming for them. By the time that they were able to coax the frightened four-year-olds into fitful slumber, Luke was preparing to leave for Jabba's palace. The suns had not yet risen, but he had a long walk ahead of him.

He was pulling his cloak over his head as his parents walked into the kitchen. They paused just inside the doorway, neither speaking as they watched him. Padme reached for her husband's hand, grateful for the warmth and reassurance that she always found in the strength of his fingers. Luke's hands were a lot like them now, she realized: both strong and gentle, calloused from long hours spent wielding the weapon of a Jedi Knight, and yet still sensitive enough to respond to the needs of loved ones. He turned to face them, and she smiled tremulously.

"Don't worry, Mother," he said quietly as he crossed the small space between them. Brushing his lips against Padme's cheek, he offered her a reassuring smile of his own. Then he turned to Obi Wan and the two men looked at one another in silence for a moment that seemed both endless and entirely too brief. As it ended, everything that they had to say to one another was voiced in a word. "Master."

Obi Wan smiled and rested his hand on Luke's shoulder. "The Force will be with you, son."

"Always," Luke nodded. Then he stepped back and turned to go, pulling up his hood as he ducked out the low kitchen door.

Padme watched as he disappeared, then drew in a long, slightly shaky breath, and moved to the table. Her husband followed, sliding into the seat across from her. He folded his hands, rested his chin atop his knuckles and held her gaze. She simply looked back at him, not ready to speak yet, and wondered how a silence could be both comfortable and fraught with tension.

Neither of them had to talk. Despite his tendency to be verbose when he chose to speak, Obi Wan, enjoyed quiet and spent long periods of time in solitude. He had never viewed silence as a void that should be filled with conversation. Padme also had no fear of lengthy silences, so she took several minutes to gather her thoughts before she tried to voice them.

"I never know how to feel when we come back to this planet," she said at length.

Obi Wan's eyebrow rose in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Sighing softly, Padme rubbed her brow with the tips of her fingers and tried to put the ambivalence she felt into words. "Whenever we've come to Tatooine, we've been running. Hiding. This time, it's not even a refuge. It's…the source of half the danger. We're hiding from the Empire _and_ trying to rescue Han from the Hutts. And yet, this is still the place where everything began for us. We raised a family here. Beru and Owen were good friends to us. We had a good life as Ben and Lila Kenobi. There are lots of memories I still cherish. In some ways, being on this planet feels like coming home. In others…I don't know. It makes me uneasy. So much of what we've lost and what we still stand to lose seems connected to this desert."

He nodded slowly and pressed his lips together in thought. "I lost Qui-Gon on Naboo. It still became home. I think people tend to make both good and bad associations with the places that are important to their lives."

A knowing smile curved Padme's lips upward. "The question is whether one focuses on the positive or the negative?"

"Mm-hm," Obi Wan smiled back.

"I should have known you'd say something like that," she remarked fondly.

"Well, you're tired and worried," he allowed.

"Aren't you?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

"Of course," he replied.

"Do you think Ani and Isaly are all right?" she asked, pressing her hand to the back of her neck.

"Well, we would know if they weren't, darling," he offered. "I can't tell you where they are or why they're not back yet."

"I used to think nothing could be worse than waiting for word about you or Anakin during the Clone Wars," she said. "Now, if I had to choose between that and waiting to hear if our kids are safe, I think…"

"I know," he nodded. "I'd certainly rather we didn't have to worry about anyone, but if we have to, I'd much prefer that the children were safe at home instead of me."

Padme didn't answer for a while. It seemed to her that there was nothing else to say. The tension of this sort of wait was familiar to her, though it was unusual for Obi Wan to be the person waiting with her. She drew comfort from his presence, especially since it was their family whose safety was being threatened, but she didn't need to tell him that. After about thirty minutes, she pushed back her chair and stood up with a soft, weary sigh.  
"Why don't we go in and sit on the couch?" she suggested. "At least it'll be a more comfortable place to wait."

He nodded in acknowledgement and stood up as well, then offered her his arm. "Do you remember the last time we waited up for the boys to come home?"

"Wasn't it the night we met Isaly…?"

* * *

"Isaly, you all right?" Hardy called as he jogged toward her.

"Nothing's broken," she replied with a pained grimace. She rolled to her feet and stood, gaining her balance just as he reached her side. The kids raced over as well, and as soon as they ascertained that she wasn't hurt, they attached themselves to either side, clinging to her so fiercely that, for the moment, she felt her own fear and anger dissipate, melting under the intensely immediate need of maternal comfort and protection.

Wrapping one arm around each of them, she hugged them fiercely for a long moment. Then she stepped back and dropped to one knee, examining first Shmi and then Jareth for obvious injuries. Finding none, she simply hugged them again, her body beginning to shake with relief. Both of the kids started to sniffle and whimper out apologies, but they quickly quieted down again as Ani's heavy footsteps crunched through the sand toward the group.

He had Mara Jade slung over his left shoulder and held her lightly but firmly in place while he reached for Isaly's cheek with his free hand. She leaned into the touch of his fingers, nodding reassurance to his unspoken question, then she slid around him to check on unconscious woman he was carrying.

The tranquilizer she'd used on Mara Jade was a compound derived from the extracts of two vegetation samples she'd discovered on Dagobah and brought back with her. Knowledge of the planet's animal and plant life and the possible medicinal applications of various flora was one of the few useful things she felt that Master Yoda had given her during their stay in his swamp. While he wasn't a Jedi Healer, the many years he'd spent as Grand Master of the Order had afforded him with a fair amount of knowledge on many subjects, healing techniques included. Isaly had begun keeping a stock of various natural medicines, and originally her intent had been to develop an anesthetic. The idea for this particular non-medical use of the drug had not occurred to her until after Cloud City. She'd never tested it on a human, and she had only brought it with her because the kids had been threatened and she knew that Ani would need some sort of unexpected advantage.

Mara appeared to breathing steadily, and her pulse rate was stable, given the fact that she was also hanging upside down off of Ani's shoulder. Her body temperature felt normal for a human, from what Isaly could ascertain by touch, and there were no other obvious signs of distress. Satisfied that the young woman was unharmed she moved back to Ani's side and gave him another nod.

"She's all right," she told him.

"Good," he let out a faintly relieved breath, and then he turned to the kids. They started toward him, arms outstretched to hug him, but they stopped short and craned their necks nervously up at the Jedi Knight.

"Is everyone all right?" he asked with just a trace of unusual coolness.

"Yes, sir," they murmured in bashful unity.

He stared intently down at them for another beat. Isaly bit her lip, restraining the urge to come to their defense. A few minutes ago, she had been prepared to give the delinquent duo a tongue-lashing far more scathing than any that she could imagine her husband delivering. She still felt that they would have deserved every word of it, and there was a strong possibility that they would be subject to at least an abbreviated version in the morning. Yet without so much as word of rebuke, Ani had managed to quail the typically intractable pair _and_ trigger Isaly's maternal desire to protect them.

Shmi spoke up first, taking a single, hesitant step toward her father. "Don't punish Jareth. It wasn't his fault, Daddy."

"Oh?" Ani asked expectantly.

"I kind of kidnapped him," she replied.

"You…what?" Ani rubbed his eyes.

"It was my idea to find Mara," she explained, squaring her shoulders as she looked up at him. "Jareth was trying to stop me, so he jumped into the speeder. I just drove off."

"Is that true?" Ani turned to his young apprentice with a sigh.

"Well, Master, she did offer to pull over and let me walk back to the house," Jareth related.

"In the dark," Shmi reminded him. "With Sandpeople and who knows what out there waiting to get him."

"Nevermind," Ani shook his head, forestalling a debate about who was to blame. "It's not important right now. We need to get home. All of us are going to have a very long talk in the morning."

"Is Grandma going to be there?" Shmi asked in a tone that said she would very much rather face down a hungry sarlacc than an angry Padme.

"Yes," her father replied flatly.

"Couldn't you just ground me for the rest of my life now?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't think so. Let's go before we attract any more unwelcome attention," Ani said, leading the group toward the far end of the square.

"Ani, what are we going to do with Mara Jade?" Hardy asked.

"Well, we can't just leave her here. It isn't safe," he replied. "We'll have to take her back to the house with us."

"Are you sure you really want to do that?" Hardy asked, alarmed.

"No," admitted Ani. "I just don't think we have another option."

"She's not going to be very happy when she wakes up," Hardy warned.

"Well, Dad's there, and by the time she wakes up, the twins could be back as well. I doubt she'll be in the condition to take on four Jedi at once," Isaly spoke up.

Ani started to say something else, but he suddenly halted and spun around, peering through the dark at his daughter. "Shmi. Where is the speeder?"


	217. Shadows and Portents

Shmi and Jareth had left the speeder on the outskirts of town. Isaly hadn't let Shmi drive in Mos Espa, and the kids didn't want to attract any more attention to themselves than absolutely necessary. Their plan to ambush Mara Jade had relied heavily on the element of surprise, and two small children piloting a landspeeder through Anchorhead would definitely have been noticed. It took them a while to find the exact spot where they'd left it, since it hadn't been dark at the time. Hardy spent most of that time telling them in heated whispers how they would be extremely lucky if the vehicle hadn't been found and scavenged by Jawas or some other thieves. He was in an unusually foul mood. Shmi had expected all of the adults to be angry, and it didn't surprise her that the speeder situation made them more cranky, but Hardy wasn't normally the type to lecture or gripe at them. He was edgy and nervous, and judging from the way he kept eyeing Mara Jade, she was the source of the added tension. Isaly urged him to keep his voice down, but her demeanor held no more warmth toward the children than Hardy's did. That was more along the lines of what Shmi would expect from her mother under the circumstances. What really bothered her was the stony silence that Ani maintained throughout the search.

Her early memories of her father were mostly like puzzle pieces—snippets of sound, scent, feeling, and image inside an outlined shape that hinted at a complete picture but with too many gaps to be sure what the picture was supposed to look like. The strongest feelings, however, the ones that formed the essence of who and what Ani was to her, were warmth, affection, and serenity. It had been about a year since Cloud City, and she'd spent a lot of that time with Leia, but she still knew her father as a soft spoken and gentle person who was easy to talk to and open with his affections. She supposed soft spoken still applied, since he hadn't once raised his voice. The sudden shift to cool detachment and remote silence was so complete that it made him seem like another person to her. The effect was unnerving, and for the first time that she could remember, she was being forced to see him as more than a moisture farmer from Tatooine. The silhouette which shepherded their little group through the dusty desert night was not just more but something else entirely—a Jedi Knight. Shmi wasn't sure that she liked what she saw.

She found the speeder as quickly as she could, hoping that her alacrity would at least help to defuse the situation. Unfortunately, once they found it, they discovered that sand had clogged the air intakes. Isaly wasn't sure that they could fix it in the dark, but Ani and Hardy pointed out that there was little choice. They couldn't take the time to walk all the way back to the farm. The tranquilizer that they'd used on Mara Jade would wear off, and since she would be prepared for it, it was unlikely to work a second time. Sighing, Isaly agreed that they were right and instructed the weary children to sit down and get some rest.

They climbed into the speeder without argument, settling themselves into the back seat. As soon as she felt the upholstered padding against her back, Shmi's entire body began to feel as if it was made of lead. Barely awake, she nestled her forehead against Jareth's arm and closed her eyes. He shifted his weight fitfully, dragging her back to wakefulness, and she grumbled a little, appropriating his chest as a pillow. He let out a sigh but turned toward her, flopping his arm over her side as he did so. She started to drift off again but felt something warm and slightly rough drop down over them. Instinctively, she lifted her head, and felt familiar, calloused fingers against her cheek. Her eyelids felt too heavy to open by then, so she allowed her head to slip back down and inhaled deeply, only half aware that it was Ani's cloak that covered her.

The rest of the night passed in a hazy blur. She slept, but despite how tired she felt, it was impossible to be completely unaware of what was going on around her. Adult voices, lurching and rocking of the speeder, the clanking and banging associated with haphazard repair jobs done without the necessary equipment, subsequent attempts to start the speeder and then muttered curses when it didn't start all filtered through her awareness, creating a mishmash of dreams that may or may not have been grounded in reality.

After a while, the banging and jostling stopped. The kids were poked awake again and nudged into sitting positions on one side of the vehicle, where Shmi tried to ignore the crush of more bodies being stuffed into the back seat with them. Then came a period of silent, steady motion that allowed Shmi a brief period of deeper slumber until, finally, the speeder came to a stop and a flurry of activity forced her into a more solid state of wakefulness.

The suns were beginning to rise by then, and the desert sky was a deep violet, edging toward crimson. Shmi and Jareth stumbled out of the speeder, blinking toward the house in sleepy confusion. Meanwhile Ani hauled out the still unconscious Mara Jade and hefted her onto his shoulder. Isaly walked over to the kids and lifted Shmi onto her hip, starting inside. Hardy followed, picking up Jareth as he moved, and the whole tired group made its noisy way into the kitchen.

At the same time, Obi Wan and Padme came rushing out of the living room. Both of them looked drowsy and disheveled, as if they had fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for Ani and Isaly to get back. Two loud thumps and the sound of small, bare feet racing toward them from the hallway told Shmi that her brothers, too, had been waiting.

"Is everyone all right?" Padme asked, looking from one of them to the next with anxious concern.

"Fine, Mom," Isaly assured her, setting Shmi down as she spoke. "No one was hurt."

"Unless you count me," grumbled Hardy, letting Jareth slide to the floor beside his compatriot.

"What's wrong, Hardy?" Isaly frowned. "You didn't say anything about being hurt!"

"Nothin, don't worry about it," he shook his head. "I just banged myself up going through that window."

"Well, you should've—" began Isaly.

Hardy raised his eyes to the ceiling and heaved a sigh, silencing her objection before she could actually get the words out of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Obi Wan's attention had turned to the woman hanging upside down from Ani's shoulder. "What's this?" he asked.

"It's Mara Jade," Ani said tiredly.

"Well, yes, Anakin, I can see it's Mara Jade," replied the beleaguered Jedi Master as his grandsons pushed past him on either side. "What is she doing on your shoulder?"

"Isaly tranquilized her," Ani explained, reaching down absently to brush the top of Obi-Too's head while the boys continued on their hurtling race toward their elder sibling. "I didn't want to just leave her there. It wasn't safe."

"Well, what are you planning to do with her now?" asked his father.

"I'll put her in one of the bedrooms for now," Ani replied, shifting Mara's weight on his shoulder. "You and I can take turns keeping guard in the room. Once Han, Lando, and the twins get back, we can allow her to leave. I doubt she'll be anxious to take on four Jedi at once."

"All right—" Obi Wan started to say, but his statement was cut off as the twins reached Shmi and Jareth.

"Sis, are you okay?!" Junior cried as he threw his arms around Shmi.

"Did you knock her out?" Obi-Too added, quickly joining in his twin's enthusiastic embrace of their sibling.

"No," Shmi shook her head, doing her best to patiently endure the boys' smothering.

"Did Jareth?" Junior pulled back, turning to their father's young apprentice.

"No, your mom did," Jareth replied.

"Mom, Isaly, can you help me with our guest?" Ani asked, edging past Obi Wan and into the adjoining hallway.

"Oh. Nice job, Mommy," Junior said with a shrug, then left off his attempt to smother Shmi so that he could start in on Jareth.

"Yeah, Mom, good work," added Obi-Too with a nod before he took the side of Jareth that Junior wasn't currently squishing.  
"Thank you, boys," Isaly replied, trailing Ani into the hall. There was a faint note of amusement in her tone despite the obvious weariness that she was exhibiting.

Padme followed her, and Shmi saw her grandmother reach out to grasp her mother's shoulder. Isaly paused, half turning to look back at the older woman. Neither one said anything, but Isaly allowed a soft smile before she continued on her way to the bedroom.

By that time, Jareth had gotten sick of being hugged and wormed his way free of the twins, whose attention was turning back to their sister. Their gazes focused on her belt, and she looked down, surprised at the sight of a black lightsaber hilt dangling from her own waist. With everything that had happened, taking Mara Jade's lightsaber seemed like a misty shadow—something that had happened in one of the half-dreams she'd had while curled up in the back of the landspeeder.

For Obi-Too and Junior, however, the weapon was very real. They looked from it to their sister's face and back again, then finally looked up a second time. Shmi wracked her fuzzy, sleep-starved brain for something smart to say, but she found that she could barely even remember how the lightsaber had ended up in her hand. The boys turned to one another, seeming to hold some sort of private, non-verbal conference, so she decided that she might as well wait and see whether they decided to be jealous or not before she said anything.

When they finished conferring and faced her again, their eyes were wide with completely ingenuous awe. Shmi unconsciously squared her shoulders and stood a little taller, receiving a rude elbow in the side from Jareth. She elbowed him back twice as hard, not taking her eyes off of her little brothers, who seemed ready to ask about her newly acquired lightsaber now.

"What is it, boys?" she asked as casually as she could manage.

"Where did you get that?" Junior pointed.

"I took it from Mara Jade," she replied, as if such a statement was perfectly ordinary and to be expected under the circumstances.

"Did you fight her for it?" Obi-Too wanted to know.

"No, Daddy did the fighting. I just helped a little at the end," she replied honestly.

"Oh," the twins sighed, disappointed.

"Did you turn it on, at least?" Junior asked, perking up a little at the suggestion.

"No…" Shmi bit her lip. "But I—"

"Little One," Obi Wan spoke up from behind them. His hand moved onto her shoulder, fingers closing around it just a trace more firmly than she'd ever felt him do before. What was left of her fragile moment of pride deflated, drifting away on the cold recollection of just what had brought this all about in the first place. Sighing heavily, she turned to face him.

The Jedi Master held out his hand without a word. Sagging, Shmi tugged the lightsaber off of her belt and placed it in his palm. He held her gaze until she lost her awareness of everything except her own breathing and the disappointment she could read in his wizened face. Then he shifted his focus to include the other three Kenobi younglings and took a step back, holding out the black hilt for them to see.

"This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. None of you have yet earned the right—the honor—of carrying one. Furthermore, this one belongs to Mara Jade. It will be given back to her. Eventually. Until that happens, I have a place for it."


	218. All In The Family

Lando sucked in a breath and quietly let it out again, but he gave no other sign of recognition or nervousness as Jabba's Twi'lek lackey, Bib Fortuna, led Luke into the throne room. He was alone, so far as Lando could see, and he didn't think the boys would have altered the plan so significantly unless something serious had gone wrong. Having things start to go wrong before they even got the rescue under way bothered him. It bothered him _a lot_. There was nothing he could do about it now, though. There was no way out of this, no way to quit the game or even throw in his hand and start over. They were going to have to play things out one way or another.

Jabba was snoring on his throne as the Twi'lek approached him. Leia, dressed in a skimpy dancing girl's costume, lay in front of the Hutt with a manacle on her throat that attached her to her new "master," but Lando couldn't see her face from his vantage point, so he had no way of gauging how bad this turn of events might be. He had to admit that Luke made an impressive figure standing there with his hood drawn up like some kind of otherworldly specter, but he didn't think that was going to have much effect on Jabba. To make matters worse, he was standing right on the trap door that opened into the Rancor pit.

"At last!" he heard Threepio call out suddenly. "Master Luke's come to rescue me!"

Lando sighed softly, wondering why the droid had been necessary at all. He hadn't been told what they were planning, since everyone knew very well that he couldn't be trusted to keep his metal mouth shut. Certainly none of the Kenobis _needed_ him to translate Huttese for them; they all spoke it quite well. Nobby and Artoo both had functions to serve, and two astromechs would have been seen as an acceptably honoring gift for a Hutt crimelord. Oh well. Such was one of the trade-offs they all made for the Kenobis' intense family loyalty. Annoying as he was, Threepio was one of them. Lando had gotten used to that mentality, although he often still surprised himself when he realized how much it had crept into his thinking.

"Master," Fortuna began, leaning close to the Hutt.

Jabba woke with a start, demanding to know what the problem was.

"Luke Kenobi, Jedi Knight," Fortuna finished.

_Knight?_ thought Lando, with a sinking feeling in his gut. That had to mean Ani wasn't here. He hoped the Empire hadn't found them. The last thing they needed to deal with now was Vader showing up with a battalion of stormtroopers—or that redhead again. What was her name? Mara Jade.

"I told you not to admit him," Jabba grumbled.

"I must be allowed to speak," Luke insisted.

"He must be allowed to speak," echoed Fortuna.

"You weak minded fool!" bellowed Jabba, soundly clobbering the Twi'lek and shoving him away. "He's using an old Jedi mind trick!"

"Your greatness," Luke addressed the Hutt calmly. "I have come to bargain with you for the life of Captain Solo."

Jabba gave a rumbling, maniacal laugh. "There will be no bargain, young Jedi. Captain Solo and his friends belong to me now."

"I'm afraid that won't be acceptable," Luke shook his head. "I _am_ taking Captain Solo and his friends with me. You can either profit by this…or be destroyed! It's your choice. But I warn you not to underestimate my powers."

_Oh, brother…_ thought Lando.

Jabba laughed again, meaner and louder this time, and Threepio suddenly cried out, attempting to warn Luke about the trap door. "Master Luke, you're standing on—"

"I will enjoy watching you die!" Jabba pronounced, cutting off the droid.

Luke's hand suddenly shot out, and a blaster pistol flew out of the holster on the belt of one of the guards. The bewildered creature made a grab for it, but it landed in Luke's hand. Before he could get a shot off, Jabba yelled for the release of the trap door. Leia surged forward as far as the chain on her neck would allow, apparently intent on helping her brother, whose abortive attempt to fire the blaster sent an energy bolt into the ceiling as he dropped into the pit below.

Swiftly, Lando moved to grab her. He didn't want anyone else trying to restrain her, and he thought it best not to trump their hand so soon. Whatever else had gone wrong, she was still shackled to a Hutt. Jedi or no, until they could get her farther away from Jabba, it would be too easy for him to simply squash her before her Force powers could actually do them any good. She looked at him, and he gave his head a furtive, negative shake. After a tense moment of hesitation, she settled back again, and he withdrew.

Then, Jabba's courtiers crowded around the edge of the trap door, cutting off his view. He could hear the guard who fell into the pit with Luke screaming hysterically for help, but that was it. He ground his teeth in frustration. Of course he couldn't be allowed to see what was going on. That would make things too easy!

An ominous rumble sounded, signaling the release of the Rancor's cage. The rabble around the trap door hooted and cheered eagerly as the beast emerged. Threepio cried out in alarm. Lando was almost glad for the racket; at least it helped block out some of the more horrible sounds coming from below.

The hideous noise of the Rancor's dining grew worse. Then he assumed that Luke was at least putting up a fight because the crowd's cheering grew more frenzied. Lando wondered if he'd made a mistake in warning Leia off. He wanted—desperately—to help Luke, but short of jumping into the pit himself, there was no way. That kind of stunt was just the thing that Han would have tried in his position, but Lando wasn't foolhardy enough to do it. Unfortunately, that left him with nothing to do except stand there hoping that, somehow, Luke was going to be able to kill a Rancor with his bare hands. The odds of that happening didn't bear thinking about, but—

Abruptly, the noise from the Rancor pit completely stopped. A stunned gasp rippled through the wall of onlookers in the throne room. Leia, who had a better view of what was happening from her vantage point, actually laughed with relief before Jabba yanked on the chain that bound her to him, dragging her backward.

"Bring me Solo and the Wookiee," he ordered, visibly red with pure fury. "They will all suffer for this outrage!"

* * *

Mara woke feeling as if an iron door had landed on her head. Instinctively, she turned her head to one side and tried to open her eyes, but the sensation worsened. Wincing, she squeezed her eyes more tightly shut for a second, then pressed her lips together and gradually turned her head the other way. Then she forced her eyes open and waited while an unfamiliar yellow ceiling wavered into view.

She had been aware that there were others in the room with her before she opened her eyes, but she was not particularly alarmed. While her surroundings were not familiar, the Force signatures of those guarding her had let her know exactly where she was. Looking around, she discovered that she was in a bed—wearing something that appeared to be a white nightgown with frilly lace sleeves! Padme Kenobi sat in a chair by her bedside. There was a serving tray in the woman's hands, and it held a ceramic tea service for four. Five, Mara corrected when she realized that Ani was leaning against the door with a teacup and saucer in his hand. She narrowed her eyes, glaring darkly at the Jedi, who smiled back with perfect civility.

"Good morning, Mara," he greeted her.

"Where are my clothes?" Mara demanded.  
"My wife and mother took care of that. I have no idea," he said, turning his gaze toward Padme.

"How's your head, Mara Jade?" Padme asked pleasantly.

"It feels like someone slammed it into a door, thank you. Where are my clothes, Senator Kenobi?" Mara asked pointedly.

"I'll get them in a little while," Padme assured her. "Have some tea first. My daughter-in-law says it will help with your headache."

Mara glared.

"Well, if you'd rather have a headache, suit yourself," Padme said with a shrug.

"I'd rather have my clothes," Mara replied flatly.

"I'm sure you would," Padme nodded.

"Well?"

"As soon as Han and the twins are back safely, you'll be free to go," she promised. "You can have them back then."

Mara slowly raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head in exasperation. "What do you think I'm going to do? _Run_ from here to Jabba's palace?"

"Well, I don't," Padme shook her head. "But keeping you here until we know that they're all back will make my granddaughter feel better."

"Marvelous," Mara sighed. "We wouldn't want her running off after me again, now would we?"

"You should take it as a compliment. She's quite proud of her Uncle Luke's skills with a lightsaber," Ani spoke up. "That she sees you as such a threat to him says a great deal about your abilities."

"I'm touched. Really," replied Mara sardonically. The truth was that, in an odd way she did find the little girl's fear of her somewhat flattering. She was used to having people fear her. Not all of her assignments as Emperor's Hand involved clandestine work. There were times when the kind of intimidation that a well-deserved reputation for being dangerous could evoke for her was a valuable asset. That said, she had seen Shmi Kenobi up close, and she could easily see that, despite the child's age, she was not one to be easily frightened or even threatened by the specter of a mysterious woman who carried a lightsaber seeking to do her uncle harm. She had been raised around Jedi, so the Force itself did not carry the usual weight of mystery and power—or sheer stupefied awe, in the case of those misguided individuals who doubted its existence until they were violently shown that its power was no myth. From what Mara had been able to observe, Shmi was hotheaded, perhaps impulsive, but she wasn't stupid by any means. What she'd done in trying to accost a grown woman trained in the use of the Force on the streets of Anchorhead went beyond the realm of family loyalty and into that of foolhardy risk-taking. Her closeness with Han Solo might have given her a taste for high risk venture, but it should also have taught her the difference between a fight she could win and one she must avoid at all costs. There had to be something else, something specific, that she saw in Mara to make her throw all caution and sense of self-preservation to the wind.

_Or perhaps,_ Mara mused, _Not what she saw in_ me_ at all. Simply what she had seen…?_

She studied Ani intently for another heartbeat, considering, then asked, "How was it, exactly, that your daughter decided I was such a threat to her poor uncle?"

The Jedi offered a nonchalant shrug. "She told me that she saw you in Anchorhead. She was convinced you were going to hurt Luke."

"Why?" persisted Mara. The Emperor would be very interested in a child who was strong enough in the Force to be having visions at Shmi's age.

"How should I know?" Ani shrugged again. "Maybe she thinks you have a thing for him."

"Excuse me?" Mara snapped.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about it," Padme waved her hand dismissively. "Shmi was convinced that Han was going to marry Leia within hours of meeting him."

"_What?!"_ demanded Mara, whipping her head around to pinion the older woman with a furious glare. The effect of the gesture was lessened by a sharp, painful wince as the abrupt motion set her head clanging and throbbing in protest.

"Have some tea, dear," Padme offered smoothly, holding out a cup.


	219. Illumination

Han was vaguely—but only vaguely—reassured by Lando's presence as he and Chewie were brought back to Jabba's throne room. He figured that at least with Lando there, he'd stand a chance of not tripping. Of course, Lando had to maintain his cover, but he could make out like it served his purpose to keep the prisoner upright.

He still couldn't see a thing, but he heard lots of noise, and the nauseating variety of stenches that assaulted him as he was shoved into the room let him know that the place was crowded today. Well, there usually was a big turn out for executions. Everybody crawled out from under the rocks to see someone else bite it. Well, Chewie kept telling him that Luke and Ani were coming to rescue them, so at least they'd all get their money's worth.

"Han!" Luke cried out from somewhere nearby.

"Luke!" he turned toward the sound, feeling the faintest stirring of relief.

"Are you all right?" Luke asked.

"Fine," he said flippantly. "Together again, huh?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Luke bantered.

"How are we doing?" inquired Han, although he had a feeling that, since he didn't hear Ani anywhere near them, he wasn't going to like the answer.

"The same as always," Luke replied.

"That good, huh? Where's Leia?" Han asked.

"I'm here!" her voice sounded from the direction that Jabba's noxious stink was the strongest. Han repressed a shudder.

He briefly considered asking what she was doing up there with Jabba, but he decided that it might be better on several fronts if he didn't know. In the first place, it was probably going to be gross. In the second place, he was sure that she could have used her fancy Force powers to prevent herself from being there if she'd really wanted to. So, whatever plan that the family had originally intended to use must have involved Jabba _not_ being clued in to the fact that she was a Jedi. He had to admit, that made a bit of sense. Jabba had a rather disgusting penchant for humanoid females; Leia was likely to be able to get a lot closer to him than either of the boys would, which might work to the Kenobis' advantage in a fight. Of course, if the Hutt realized she was any kind of threat, he might not let her get that close, but since a lot of people still didn't know Leia's real identity, he probably wouldn't figure it out unless she started waving a lightsaber at him.

For the moment, he decided to content himself with the obvious. "Are you okay?"

"That depends on your definition of okay," she replied.

"Yeah," Han muttered. "Let me work on that one and get back to you."

"Well, hurry up. We're a little short on time," she advised.

"Missed you too, sweetheart," Han shook his head.

"Guys…?" Luke ventured.

"Right. Sorry. Do I even want to ask where Ani is?" ventured Han.

"Probably not," Luke told him.

Han sighed. "See, what did I tell ya, Chewie?"

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled the Wookiee.

"Well, I'm gonna have to find out eventually, so why don't we just get it over with?" he suggested to Luke, rubbing his eyes as he prepared for the worst.

"Shmi and Jareth stole the speeder we rented and took it to Anchorhead," Luke explained with a weary sigh of his own. "Ani and Isaly went after them."

"They what?" Han didn't know whether to laugh or be outraged.

"Shmi saw Mara Jade in Anchorhead the other day and I guess she thought it'd be a good idea to make sure nobody stopped us from rescuing you," explained Luke.

"That worked well," Han rolled his eyes. "If I wasn't about to die, I'd kill that kid."

Jabba yelled for them to shut up and started yapping. After his stay in the carbonite block, Han found that his Huttese was a little rusty, but he had a fairly good idea what the ugly blob was getting at. Threepio apparently wasn't satisfied to let them infer their fate, though, because he started to translate.

"Oh, dear. His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Hutt, has decreed that you are to be terminated immediately," he informed them.

"Good, I hate long waits," Han quipped.

"You will therefore be taken to the Dune Sea and cast into the pit of Carkoon, the nesting place of the all-powerful Sarlacc," continued Goldenrod.

"Doesn't sound so bad," Han commented to Luke with a slight smirk.

"In his belly, you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you are slowly digested over a thousand years," the droid finished.

_I should have known there was a catch,_ Han told himself.

"On second thought, let's pass on that, huh?" he suggested aloud.

Chewie agreed with him, but Luke, naturally, had lost his mind. Instead of trying to use his supposedly greatly improved Force skills to get them _out_ of this, he opted for the loony approach and issued Jabba a warning. Han might have been impressed with the bravado if his warning had sounded a little tougher and a little less completely nuts, but he supposed he couldn't expect that much from the kid.

"You should have bargained, Jabba. That's the last mistake you'll ever make," Luke said.

Jabba's only response was an evil cackle. Then Han felt the guards' hands grab him again, dragging him off. He stumbled along, doing his best not to fall as they pulled him through the corridor. As they went, he turned his rather pitiful handful of options over in his mind. He could fight, but even with Chewie to help, they didn't stand much chance of getting out of Jabba's palace alive. Luke would join the fray, of course, but Han wasn't all that sure about the kid's mental state at the moment. They still had Lando and Leia as a pair of aces in the hole, but if Han knew Jabba, she would be chained to him, and those conditions made it way too easy for him to use her as leverage against Han and his friends.

It would be better to wait until they were outside someplace. At least then, their odds of getting away would be slightly better. It would be harder for Jabba and his thugs to control what was going on once they were outside of the palace. More things could go wrong, and escape wouldn't have to involve fighting their way out of an impregnable fortress. The fact that they were going to be in the middle of the desert dramatically reduced their overall chance of survival, but Han figured that if he was going to die anyway, he wanted to go on his own terms. That was, of course, unless the whole mysterious _plan_—or what was left of it—involved a way to get them all out of the desert. In that case, he'd be more than happy to go along with whatever Luke had in mind. Even if it was crazy.

* * *

  
Isaly was not surprised to find Hardy leaning against the wall outside of her in-laws' bedroom. He had moved one of the kitchen chairs into the hallway for Obi Wan, who was now calmly sitting opposite the door while Hardy remained next to it. Neither man spoke as Isaly guided Shmi and Jareth through the small corridor, and the children's reluctance gave them an air of criminals being marched to an execution chamber. Under other circumstances, Isaly would have laughed, but having Mara here was potentially disastrous, no matter what precautions that the family took. Weapons or no weapons, she could still command the Force, and Isaly had the feeling that she would turn quite vicious if she felt cornered. They were already placing her in an unfamiliar environment, stripping her of several layers of defense, and she might or might not actually believe them when they said that she would be free to go once the twins and Han were safe.

Logically, of course, the Kenobis couldn't keep her prisoner in the long term. It would be foolhardy for the family to try to escort an Imperial prisoner through Mos Eisley, and the Falcon certainly wasn't equipped to hold a Force-sensitive prisoner. Mara would probably kill them all before allowing herself to be placed in the cryo chamber, and that was the only way that they could hope to get her back to the Fleet. Once there, the Alliance would still have to be able to hold her, and that problem presented more risk than benefit as far as Isaly could see. Unfortunately, Mara Jade had been trained by the Emperor. She wouldn't be likely to take the Kenobis at their word, and she would hardly accept the notion that a valuable prisoner like herself would simply be turned loose.

Hardy had been with them for a year, and he still found it difficult to fathom the way that the Kenobis, and by extension, the Rebel Alliance, thought and acted in regard to individuals' rights, personal dignity, and integrity. He trusted them now, and he believed them because he knew them well enough to understand that they all valued their word, even to the extent that each of them would, if at all possible, keep a promise made by another member of the clan. Mara didn't have the benefit of his experiences, and they couldn't very well ask him to vouch for her safety.

Her presence here made him uncomfortable for reasons that Isaly could easily understand. That alone would have been enough to make her question the wisdom of keeping her here if they'd had any other conceivable option. However, the fact was that there was no honorable alternative. Ani was right about that much.

His insistence that the kids should apologize to her for attacking her in Anchorhead was another matter. Isaly saw no wisdom in requiring that apology. Any one of the Kenobis would have acted to keep Luke safe if they had been in Shmi's place. Whether or not they would have actively hunted Mara Jade down and made the first move in such an openly aggressive fashion seemed immaterial to her. She knew that he must be trying to impart some Jedi lesson to them, probably about the difference between acting in order to defend someone and acting as an aggressor, but this felt like the wrong time for an object lesson in Jedi philosophy to her. Ani rarely took such a hard line in disciplining the children, though. He clearly felt that this was a vital issue, and whether she agreed or not, they always supported one another's decisions in regard to any prescribed punishment for the children.

Hardy looked distinctly uneasy as she reached the door, although he made an effort to maintain a casual stance. Isaly supposed that with the door closed, the imaginary barrier between his personal loyalties and his lingering political ambivalence seemed a little sturdier. Smiling tightly, she reached into the front pocket of her dress and removed the datapad that Padme had given her earlier that morning, handing it to him.

"Mom said she wanted somebody to put this in the speeder," she explained.

"What is it?" he frowned.

"It's a copy of her journal, I guess," Isaly replied.

"Okay," Hardy's frown deepened, and he shook his head with an air of perplexed acceptance that could only be worn by a soldier. "General…?"

"Go on," Obi Wan waved his hand. "Ani and I can manage here if anything happens. Make sure you leave the keys in there, too."

Hardy hesitated for a split second, making it clear to Isaly that he harbored some doubts about both the Jedis' ability to handle the situation without him and about what he was being asked to do. He didn't question Obi Wan, though. He was still far too military-minded for that, and he was most comfortable relating to the older man as "General Kenobi" rather than as a Jedi Master or the head of the Kenobi family.

Isaly waited until he disappeared into the kitchen and then turned a speculative look on her father-in-law. "What are you two doing?"

Obi Wan's expression was pensive, but his tone held a faint, secret smile, "We're following the same path that you and Ani are, darling. We're just a step or two ahead."

"What?" Isaly tilted her head.

"Where Mara is walking, it's still dark. Your mother and I are offering her a little illumination," he said.

"Why?" persisted Isaly. She could understand what drove them to try to reach Anakin Skywalker, but the family had no vested interest in Mara Jade.

"Because choices one makes in the dark inevitably cause more suffering than would otherwise have been necessary. Because she deserves the opportunity to make an informed decision about the path of her existence. And if she will consider the information that she's being given, it will certainly save us all a few headaches in the future."

"Especially Uncle Luke," Shmi piped up rather grimly.

"Yes," Obi Wan nodded, his tone growing richer with his private amusement. "Especially your Uncle Luke."


	220. Moving Right Along

"I think my eyes are getting better," Han told Luke as the hot desert wind whipped around them. "Instead of a big dark blur, I see a big light blur."

"There's nothing to see," Luke replied lightly. "I used to live here, remember?"

"You're gonna die here, remember?" Han shot. "Convenient."

"You oughta know better than to count us out so fast, Han," Luke chided.

Han might have admitted that he had a point if he hadn't seemed so sure of himself. It wasn't like Luke. Sure, the kid got a little cocky when he was flying an X-Wing, but after all, he'd blown up a Death Star on his first time out with the Rebellion. He'd put in a lot of combat time since then, and he had some pretty gruesome battles under his belt. That kind of confidence didn't bother Han. He happened to think quite a bit of his own piloting skills, so he understood where Luke came by his attitude. This was different.

Luke might have followed Ani and the old man onto the Death Star, but he hadn't liked doing it. He never doubted that whatever the old man said was right, and until things started getting really hot, he probably hadn't even questioned whether they'd be able to find Leia, disable the tractor beam, and get out again without any trouble. Still he was antsy the whole time—even edgy. He'd gotten better about that since the Battle of Yavin, but he usually took everything far too seriously for Han's tastes. Now, suddenly, he seemed to be completely calm and at ease. If Han didn't know any better, he would even have said that the kid was enjoying himself. As far as he could see, there wasn't much to enjoy in this mess.

"Well," he muttered under his breath, "it's not like I can see very far anyway."

"What was that?" Luke asked.

"Nothing, nevermind," Han shook his head.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. So. Let me guess. Springing the trap, right?" he asked.

"You got it," Luke answered, and Han could easily picture the smile on his face as he said it.

"All by yourself, huh?" Han scoffed.

"Of course not," Luke corrected. At least he had the sense to sound affronted by the idea, which might mean that he hadn't gone completely insane.

_Good,_ Han nodded to himself. _Sane is good._

"I'm gonna guess that the original plan included your brother," he said aloud.

"Well, yeah…" admitted Luke.

"Did it include Leia being chained up to Jabba like that?" asked Han.

"Not exactly," sighed Luke.

"Not exactly," Han echoed in a mocking, high pitched whine.

"We've been in tighter spots before," Luke reminded him.

"Yeah, like when?" Han challenged. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, though, he realized that the question was a bad idea. "Nevermind, forget it. I don't want to think about any of it right now."

"Focus on the present," Luke agreed.

"Wouldja knock off the Jedi stuff!" sighed Han.

"Sorry."

"So, now what?" Han prompted.

"So, now we'll improvise a little," Luke told him.

"Improvise?"

"A little."

"That's your plan?"

"Since when did you get so big on plans, Han?" Luke asked in a knowing tone that reminded him so much of Padme that he wasn't sure whether to cringe or laugh.

After second of hesitation, he opted for sarcasm and quipped, "I guess since I ended up an entrée on the dinner menu of a sarlacc."  
"Just stick close to Chewie and Lando," Luke told him calmly. "We've taken care of everything."

"Kid, I've been involved in a few of these little Kenobi family trap springing parties before," Han reminded him. "The phrase 'we've taken care of everything' doesn't do much for my anxiety level."

"Have we ever steered you wrong before?" Luke questioned.

"You don't want me to answer that," Han said.

"No," Luke murmured in quick agreement. "You're right, don't answer that."

"This is the one time I'd prefer not to be right," Han said.

"Don't worry. You're not right," Chewie assured him.

"Thanks, pal. Thanks a lot," Han sighed.

"You're welcome," Chewie replied smartly.

"Look, Han," Luke said evenly. "Maybe we haven't always steered you right in the first place, but have we ever let you down?"

"No, I guess you haven't," Han allowed reluctantly.

"We did get you out of carbon freeze," Luke pointed out.

"Okay, kid, don't rub it in."

* * *

Threepio wandered about amid the motley array of beings on Jabba's Sail Barge, doing his best to stay out of the way. He was a bit at a loss and unsure what to do with himself. He still couldn't fathom what had possessed Master Luke to turn him and Artoo over to a Hutt, and now it seemed that all their friends were doomed to die in the Sarlacc pit. He certainly didn't want to see that happen—and the atrocious way that Mistress Leia was being treated was terribly upsetting, but what could he do about it? He was only a Protocol Droid after all, and since Master Luke had, in fact, _given_ him to Jabba, the horrible creature was now his rightful owner.

_Oh dear, oh dear,_ he thought as he realized that the barge was slowing. _We're nearly there, now. Soon it will be the end for poor Master Luke, Chewbacca, and Captain Solo—_

Caught up in his private thoughts, he didn't realize how close he was to another, smaller droid. He tottered into it, knocking over the tray of drinks it was carrying. The stubby little droid let loose with a string of angry reprimands, and a second one, also bearing a tray of drinks, zoomed over to add its own brand of scolding.

"Oh, I'm terribly sor—Artoo! Nobby! What are you doing here?" Threepio cried as he realized who the two droids were.

"We're serving drinks," Artoo told him glibly.

"Were serving drinks," corrected Nobby, still holding her own tray aloft with her claw arm. Her vacuum attachment snaked its way out of her chest and she began to suck up the broken glass, spilled beverages, and other debris that Threepio had inadvertently created. "Now I'm cleaning up this mess."

"Well, I can see that, but this place is dangerous," Threepio told the pair worriedly. "They're going to execute Master Luke, and if we're not careful, us too!"

"No they aren't," Artoo whistled.

"Just watch," Nobby agreed.

"Hmph," said Threepio, who still wasn't sure that he could rely on anything that Nobby said. After all, she had been cobbled together from spare parts—by children, no less! Still, he saw no need to insult her by saying so. She was a decent little droid, most of the time, and Artoo did seem to like her. Not that Artoo's judgment was particularly good, either, but etiquette was an essential component of a protocol droid's programming. Opting for a polite response, he said, "Well, I wish I had your confidence."

"You'll see," promised Nobby, who always had to have the last word in any conversation. "Master Luke and Mistress Leia have a surprise waiting for old Mabba the Butt."

* * *

Shmi did her best to avoid meeting her father's eyes as Isaly corralled her and Jareth into her grandparents' old bedroom. It had been hastily converted into Mara Jade's holding cell, but from what Shmi could see, Mara was more a guest than a prisoner. There was a serving tray on her grandmother's desk, and it was laid out with a ceramic tea set. Mara perched rather tensely on the edge of the bed, but she had a teacup in her hand. She had on a white nightgown that Shmi recognized as belonging to her grandmother, and although it seemed odd for Mara to be wearing such a soft, girly garment, Shmi had to admit that she wore it well. The only thing that really gave away how upset the woman must have been was the way she gripped the handle of that cup as if it might bite her if she let her guard down. Padme was sitting in the chair opposite Mara with her ankles delicately crossed and her own cup of tea held lightly and gracefully in one hand. She wore what the kids thought of as her "politician face," which was warm and inviting, yet had an air of distance and professional power that she never used when she spoke to them. Shifting her gaze momentarily toward Jareth, she saw the hint of a smile curving her friend's mouth. They had both seen Padme in "diplomacy mode" before, and Jareth knew as well as Shmi did that whatever her grandmother wanted from Mara Jade, she was going to get.

Ani stood close to the door. He had a cup of tea in his hand as well, but Shmi doubted that he was really drinking very much of it. If he was, he probably wasn't enjoying it. The room was crackling with the kind of highly charged emotion that usually accompanied an adult argument, and although there had been no shouting or other indications of a fight—verbal or otherwise—Shmi could guess that whatever conversation the three of them had been having before she came in had not been the sort of pleasantries that grown-ups usually exchanged over tea.

Mara's eyes flashed angrily as she took in the two children. Shmi involuntarily shrank back against her mother for a second, then squared her shoulders and stepped forward again, meeting the redhead's gaze with a hard stare the way that Han had taught her. No matter what her father made her say, she wasn't going to let this woman think she'd won anything here today.

"I suppose I have you to thank for this marvelous headache," Mara began.

Shmi frowned in confusion, then realized that the statement had been directed at her mother. She craned her neck, tilting her head back to look up at Isaly, who's mouth twitched in the ghost of a smile. She wasn't afraid of Mara Jade either, Shmi decided with satisfaction.

"Yep," Isaly responded. "It was just a mild tranquilizer. There shouldn't be any lasting negative effects."

"It won't work again," Mara warned.

"I don't think it'll have to," Isaly replied.

Mara smirked. "We'll see."

"I imagine we will," Isaly agreed. "For the moment, Shmi and Jareth have something to say to you."

"Oh?" Mara's tone shifted a little with genuine surprise.

Shmi stared at her, waiting for Jareth to initiate the forced apology. Several long seconds passed, and he gave no indication of being willing to speak. Finally, Isaly, whose hands were still resting on both of the children's shoulders, gave Shmi's shoulder a faint but meaningful squeeze.

Glowering, she drew herself up and said coolly, "My father says I have to apologize for attacking you in Anchorhead. It was not the Jedi Way."

"Are you sorry?" Mara inquired with obvious amusement.

"No," Shmi told her flatly. From the corner of her eye, she could see Ani raise his free hand to his face.

Mara's mouth curved in a smile that, from anyone else, Shmi would have called fond. "About as I expected."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't disappoint you then," Shmi shot.

"I don't think you're going to," Mara replied. Then she turned to Jareth and arched an eyebrow in expectation. "Well?"

"I'm not going to be sorry if she's not!" he declared.

Mara nodded. "And well you shouldn't. Very good, Ani."

"Are you sorry that you were going to kill my uncle, Mara Jade?" Shmi demanded before her father could reply.

"No," Mara replied.

"Then we're even," Shmi said firmly.

"For the moment."


	221. When A Plan Comes Together

"Get as close as you can to Mistress Leia, and wait for my signal." Artoo directed Nobby as the convoy moved up over the mammoth sandpit that was home to the sarlacc. The barge stopped to one side of the depression, accompanied by its escort skiff, but the skiff bearing the prisoners continued until it hovered directly over the center of the hole.

"Your signal? Why do I have to wait for your signal?" Nobby protested. "We're supposed to watch Master Luke."

"You're not going to be able to see him," Artoo replied.

"Why not?!" demanded Nobby.

"Because Master Ani doesn't need a lightsaber right now," Artoo reminded her. "Mistress Leia will."

"Oh," Nobby replied in a low, disappointed warble. Artoo had expected a stronger argument from his fellow astromech, even if Nobby knew that he was right. She liked to have her own way, and she could be disagreeable when she didn't get it. He guessed that she realized how much was at stake this time, though, because she backed away without further comment, then wheeled about and motored off toward Leia.

Pleased to have finally gotten in the last word on her, Artoo allowed himself a smugly amused twitter, and watched as she rolled off, wending her way through the crowd of Jabba's retinue. He could see Threepio close to Jabba's throne already. The Hutt raised his flabby arm, and the assemblage of raucous beings fell silent. Then he gestured to Threepio, who leaned closer in order to hear his mumbled instructions.

Swiveling his dome to peer out the lowest of the slatted windows on the observation deck, Artoo could see that a plank had been extended over the sarlacc pit Luke stood with one foot at the edge of it, looking up toward the barge. He turned again, couldn't see Nobby, and surreptitiously raised his scope to find her tucked in between a couple of burly pirates of a species he couldn't readily identify. It didn't look like she'd be able to get much closer to Leia, but she was certainly closer than he'd be able to get to his target. She should be able to get the lightsaber over the goons' heads easily enough, as long as she could calculate the trajectory correctly and not smack the poor princess in the head.

"Victims of the almighty sarlacc," Threepio began nervously. "His Excellency hopes that you will die honorably. But should any of you wish to beg for mercy, the great Jabba the Hutt will now listen to your pleas."

"Threepio!" Han shouted back angrily. "You tell that slimy piece of worm ridden filth he'll get no such pleasure from us!...Right?"

"Right!" Chewie barked in ready agreement.

"M—Jabba," Luke called out, commendably covering his brief stumble so that no one except those familiar with the Hutt's nickname would have even noticed, "This is your last chance. Free us or die!"

The deck erupted with a cacophony of mocking laughter. Even if someone had noticed the Jedi's faint stumble, they would have quickly forgotten about it once they heard his ultimatum. With everyon's attention now riveted on the skiff, Artoo took the opportunity to sneak off. He zipped onto upper deck and positioned himself near the railing overlooking the skiff.

Below, one of the guards prodded Luke forward. He walked out onto the plank and peered down at the gaping maw of the sarlacc. Then he looked back at Lando, giving a quick, conspiratorial nod before he raised his hand and offered a jaunty salute in the direction of the barge. That was the sign that Artoo was waiting for. Immediately, transmitted his own signal to Nobby and opened the slot in the top of his dome, getting ready to fire the lightsaber. The guard prodded Luke again, and he stepped off the plank, twirling about in midair. At the same time, Artoo launched the lightsaber, which arched toward the Jedi as he grabbed the end of the plank in both hands and used it to catapult himself higher into the air. He executed a tight somersault and landed with his hand outstretched. The hilt of his weapon landed neatly in his palm, and Artoo let out a satisfied whistle before he wheeled about and raced back toward Nobby and Leia.

* * *

Nobby couldn't see much from her vantage point near Jabba's throne. The deck was crowded with noisome creatures, all drinking and rocking with laughter at the expense of the prisoners. They were too tall and moved around too much for the little droid to get a good look out at the skiff without drawing attention to herself. All she could do was watch Leia for cues and wait for Artoo's signal.

Leia looked tense and worried, but Nobby couldn't blame her for that. The original plan had been for all three of the Kenobi siblings to be at Jabba's palace this morning. They'd anticipated that Leia, Chewie and Han would be put in a cell together, which Lando was supposed to have left unlocked so that, while Ani and Luke created a diversion with the lightsabers that the two astromechs had smuggled in for them, Leia and Chewie could get Han back to the _Falcon_. Everything had gone awry, Ani wasn't here, and now Han, Luke, and Chewie, were about to be eaten by a giant worm. Meanwhile, Leia herself was chained to a giant, slobbering blob of fat and grease, and she had no way to help them.

Given the way that all of the Kenobis seemed to rely on the Force, Nobby thought that Luke and Leia had probably at least been able to have a brief discussion while they had been in Jabba's throne room earlier, but neither of the astromech droids had been allowed in while that was going on, so the lightsabers they were carrying had been useless. Now, whatever new plan that the twins might have been able to come up with was known only to them. Their co-conspirators, including Nobby and Artoo, were adapting their actions to the situation and trying to keep Luke and Leia in their sights. The signals that they had been told to expect would be the same, and those were the only clues they had as to what they were supposed to do to help.

Suddenly, the already noisy chatter of the beings around Jabba grew louder by several decibels. Taking that as a hint, Nobby slid back the panel at the top of her dome, and a second or two later, Artoo's signal reached her. She released the lightsaber, which shot straight into the air, then gracefully arced toward Leia, who, despite having no obvious warning that it was coming, reached up for it as smoothly and naturally as if she had been trying to brush the hair back from her forehead.

Jabba, on the other hand, had no idea what was going on, and by the time he managed to figure out what the lightsaber was, the green blade was already lit in Leia's hand and slicing through the chain that had kept her bound to the monster. Once free of the chain, she arched her wrist and sent the lightsaber spinning into the deck's lighting control box.

Panic ensued as frantic, confused aliens began to howl and scream, knocking into one another in a desperate attempt to either escape or figure out what was happening. Nobby was jostled about and lost sight of Leia in the chaos, but from the addition of a loud, gurgling, choking noise that became more desperate every second that it went on, she surmised that Jabba knew exactly where the Jedi princess was.

The sound finally started to fade as Jabba weakened, but Nobby had no time for smug satisfaction at the Hutt's demise. A hard kick sent her sailing backward into something that felt like the well-muscled leg of a very large alien. Another kick from that being propelled her in the opposite direction, and just as she managed to lock her wheels and skid to a stop, something else barreled toward her, colliding with her left side.

Furious, she let loose with a string of insults, then abruptly realized that the perpetrator of the last assault was none other than Artoo Detoo. Rather than apologizing to him, she redoubled her efforts, dredging her memory banks for every reference to clumsiness and faulty processing that she could find. Artoo responded in kind, and the argument became more heated when he began to insist that he had only been moving so fast because he was trying to help her and Leia in the first place. Nobby responded that she and Leia didn't need any help, and the princess found the two droids a few minutes later, locked in a battle of beeps and whistles that would have gone on for hours under more ordinary circumstances.

"Come on!" she urged. "We've gotta get out of here, fast!"

* * *

As soon Shmi and Jareth had finished delivering their so-called apology, Isaly ushered them out again. Mara was almost sorry to see them go. The two youngsters had grown on her—enough, in fact, that she felt a faint sense of relief at the knowledge that she wouldn't have to deliver them to the Emperor. He was _her_ Emperor, but he was not theirs. She knew and trusted him; they did not, and they had been conditioned to regard him as the most vile kind of enemy. The more that she was with them, the more that she spent time in the company of this strange, uncompromisingly honorable family who yet managed to reconcile their principles with adherence to rebel politics and loyalty to a rabble bent on bringing chaos to the galaxy in the name of personal liberty, she realized that breaking such conditioning would have to be immensely damaging to their young psyches. Eventually, she supposed it would have to be done, but the notion of being the instrument of that kind of torment to children left her cold. Suddenly, she began to hope that it would be someone else—even Vader—who delivered the Kenobis to Palpatine in the end.

Neither Ani nor Padme spoke for a long time after they left. Mara remained on the edge of the bed, coolly watching and waiting. She had no desire to resume the conversation she had been having with the former Senator Kenobi, and she had lost her taste for taunting the young Jedi Knight—for the time being anyway. Padme unsettled her. The woman was one of the few Kenobis that Mara had never had an opportunity to observe or interact with since she had first encountered the family on Yavin 4. In some ways, the matriarch of the family was exactly what she had expected. In others, she was entirely different, and her very existence left a hollow feeling in the pit of Mara's stomach. Being in a room with her was very much like sitting next to a ghost, and like a ghost, Padme had an air of being beyond Mara's reach—yet she was unfailingly pleasant.

She also possessed the remarkable ability to use words the way that Mara and Ani used lightsabers. A single phrase or question from her could burn through Mara's understanding of the world in a way that left her dangerously exposed. Like an expert swordplayer, though, Padme always kept just out of Mara's own reach, making sure that every statement or query fell just short of the point at which Mara could reasonably take offense.

She understood the rules of the game being played here, but she was not the expert that Padme was, and to make her position worse, she was still unsure what her adversary wanted. She knew that Padme must have some goal in mind, but clearly she had no intention of interrogating Mara—which in itself placed the younger woman at a loss. She had said that Mara would be free to go once the rest of the brood returned safely; Mara didn't doubt her sincerity. From most rebels, she would have expected that kind of promise to be rescinded, but the Kenobis were…different. They were their own breed and a law unto themselves—which was, in Mara's mind, what made them so dangerous. They would keep their promises, and they would act honorably, at least according to their own definition of the word. The problem was that their definition did not happen to match up with Mara's, chiefly because they seemed to believe that "honorable action" included toppling the Empire.

With that in mind, it was difficult for her to guess what Padme's goal in talking to her here might be. She was a politician, so the obvious answer was that she wanted to negotiate some kind of agreement. Yet, since the Kenobis were not planning to keep Mara prisoner, she had nothing with which to bargain. Further, she had said nothing that even implied that a deal was being brokered. Mara had told her flatly and unequivocally that she would not in any way betray the Emperor. That declaration elicited a rush of strong emotion from both Padme and Ani, but none of the smug derision or self-righteously affronted pride that she had expected. Padme assured her that no one expected her to do that; again, she believed the woman.

Such trust in a relative stranger was an odd sensation for Mara. She knew Padme only by association and had formed her opinion based on her assessment of the family as a whole. She knew that this kind of judgment might prove faulty; individuals were always more than the sum of the family from which they came. Yet she sensed no deception from any of the Kenobis, including Padme. Ultimately, that lack of trickery left Mara at a disadvantage in that it forced her to continue wondering just _what_ the point of this encounter was going to be.

Clearly, Ani and Isaly had not sought her out. Judging from poor Ani's attempt to make the younglings apologize to her, even if the whole family had been aware that she was here with the intent to kill Luke, they never would have come looking for her. Certainly, they would have been ready to defend him at Jabba's palace—with their own lives, if necessary, but they wouldn't have taken the fight to Mara the way that Shmi and Jareth had done. That meant that if the adult Kenobis had been in control of the situation, they never would have an opportunity to bring Mara here; she never would have met Padme.

That being the case, she doubted that Padme had some grand scheme in which she wanted Mara to play a part. She didn't think that the redoubtable heads of this Jedi family were suddenly developing an interest in Force-related experiments, either. Yet, there was no _reason_ that Padme needed to come in here and play hostess to Mara Jade. If all that the Kenobis _really_ wanted to do was make sure that she didn't harm their precious farmboy, then it would have been enough to set up the little guard procession outside the door. It was possible that Isaly felt some healer's compulsion to fix Mara's headache, but if that was it, then she could easily have come in with Ani and given her the tea. Even the children's apology could have been accomplished in a smarter fashion—if it had to be done at all. Mara certainly wouldn't have expected them to parade their youngest and most potentially vulnerable family members into a room that held an Imperial prisoner trained in the use of the Force…

Then again, why exactly hadn't she taken advantage of that mistake?


	222. A Delicate Time

Ani held the silence, following his mother's lead. He could feel the tension building in Mara, her confusion and inner conflict growing, and like Padme, he knew that this would be a critical time. Beginnings were always delicate, with multiple threads of possibility all converging to create something new and very fragile, which was at the same time being pressed in upon by the manifold needs and desires of the beings who had come together—or in this case were thrown together—in order for the Force to birth its new creation. Beginnings were also the culmination of endings, and endings themselves were dangerous. The living clung to what they knew; they didn't like to have their precious understandings taken away. They didn't like to leave the comfort of the galaxy as they knew it. Endings robbed them of security, forced them to adapt and accept things for which they were often unprepared. They were cataclysmic, even if only in the minds of those whose lives would be forever altered by them, and people resisted them more fiercely than any other phenomenon they knew. When all the energy that had been devoted to fighting the ending suddenly had no direct target, it turned inward, to anger, and that anger usually refocused itself upon whoever and whatever had brought about the ending, however necessary it might have been. Mara Jade was naturally dangerous. If he and Padme weren't careful, this particular ending could bring about the equivalent of a supernova.

Things would be much easier if he could use his empathic abilities in a more direct fashion. He knew that, if he chose to do so, he could calm her inner storm, magnify, or at least encourage the burgeoning, tentative trust she felt towards his mother. He wouldn't, though. He couldn't, because using the Force in that manner was, in principle, exactly the sort of thing that he was trying to teach Shmi and Jareth that they could never do. Worse, it would make him no better than the Emperor, who had exerted that kind of influence on Anakin Skywalker, and probably on Mara Jade, for so long and so subtly that neither of them could even detect his manipulations. For Anakin, the revelation came too late. Things might be different for Mara. Ani and Obi Wan had both glimpsed possible futures in which that was the case, but none of the outcomes were certain. The images were all convoluted, intertwined with personal longings and futures that could never be. They couldn't be relied upon. The family had to forge its own future, and if Mara was going to trust them, she must _trust_ them, not be tricked or nudged into accepting what they told her. His job here was to facilitate the planting of a seed. With the right cultivation and enough time, that seed would eventually bear fruit, but if he tried to rush its maturity, there was no telling what disastrous consequences there might be or what price the galaxy would pay for one Jedi's lack of patience.

He crossed the room and set his empty teacup on the tray beside the others. Mara's silence was frigid and tense, full of the watchful wariness of an animal that knew she was being hunted. Padme's was the polar opposite—warm, relaxed, open. She emanated trustworthiness in a way that had very little to do with the Force. Usually, it would have brought a smile to his face, but now he kept his entire bearing completely neutral, acting as the fulcrum between the two extremes.

Mara's feelings told him that she understood the position he was taking and it added to her uncertainty. She was used to viewing the Jedi as her enemies. Like them, she understood the ways of the Force and was trained in its use. Her allegiance was to someone bent on destroying the Jedi Order and all that it stood for. Ani was a Jedi Knight, and therefore, he should have fallen naturally into the role of opposite while Padme, as the politician, should have been here as mediator. The unfamiliarity of the current dynamic left her further off balance, and he could sense that she was reaching the crisis point. What she had failed to grasp, however, was that the action of a fulcrum could pivot an entire system.

Padme's gaze shifted toward him as the cup clacked into place. He looked up at her, noted a faint change in the smile she gave him, and then he turned away. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he walked casually back to his place by the door.

Mara's stress level spiked as his hands disappeared. She read the gesture as a sign of impending threat and coiled up inwardly. Her body went utterly still, and her eyes narrowed, watching him with a new awareness. Carefully—slowly enough that she would clearly recognize that he meant her no harm, but not so slow that the gesture lost its appearance of casual action—he withdrew his hands again and let the left one drop to his side while using the right one to rake his fingers through his hair.

"My daughter was born in this house," he said.

"Congratulations," Mara replied without hesitation.

Ani could feel her relief though. He smiled sadly, "If I'd had a choice, I would have stayed here. All I wanted was to work this farm with my Uncle Owen. After I met Isaly, I thought I would at least be able to leave her and the children here when the time came for my parents and I to leave. Then when the war was over, I could come back. My family would be safe. Vader and your Emperor would never have known they existed. Now he wants to make that little girl into a killer."

"He doesn't seem to have very far to go," Mara observed.

"There's a great deal of difference between a warrior and a killer, Mara Jade. I'm a warrior. I'd prefer not to be. I'd prefer that my children never had to choose between the way of a warrior and the way of peace. But I am not a killer, and if it takes my last breath, I will see to it that Palpatine does not turn Shmi or my sons into people who are capable of destroying entire planets."

"You had a choice, Kenobi," Mara said flatly. "You made it."

"My aunt and uncle were killed. Their home was burned to the ground. There's nothing left now but some blacked out holes in the desert floor. Did they have a choice?" Ani asked quietly. He knew that he was treading on treacherous ground here. His mother had already questioned Mara's belief that the Empire served the greater good of the galaxy by keeping order and providing security. Political arguments should be left to her while he presented another, human face to the problem. The politics were important, but for now they had to be put aside. Politics could be debated endlessly with no clear resolution in the minds of the people in dispute. It was much more difficult to ignore or dismiss people—real individuals who had suffered needlessly at the hands of the Empire. Mara's first loyalty was to the Emperor himself—a person. The underpinning of her faith in him was the mistaken notion that the things he did were motivated by an altruistic concern for the galaxy at large.

Ani sensed a good deal of pride in her, centering around the conviction that her place in his regime was important, perhaps even unique, and that the tasks she performed for him were essential to the continued success of the Empire at large. It was, in a way, very similar to the pride that the stormtroopers took in what they were and in their service to the Emperor. By creating a dynamic in which individuals felt not only that they were part of something larger than themselves but that they were special, uniquely qualified to fulfill a certain function, for which they had been hand picked by a powerful leader, Palpatine also engendered a fierce personal loyalty in those he recruited. Their identities, their sense of who and what they were in relation to the galaxy around them, became entwined with him. It was virtually impossible to shake that kind of loyalty directly. To get at it, one had to approach things more circumspectly. By presenting incontrovertible evidence that the Empire was not the benevolent force that Palpatine claimed it to be, Ani could, if he was very careful, put a crack in Mara Jade's bond with him. If he pushed too hard, though, demanded too much, and gave her too much to argue against, he could unleash a backlash that would destroy any chance the Kenobis might have of drawing her back to them again.

"Beru and Owen Lars had a choice when they decided to shelter a family of Jedi," Mara's venomous declaration drew him out of his thoughts.

"A family of Jedi or the children of Jedi, Mara?" Ani challenged. "I was five years old. My brother and sister were newborns. We weren't Jedi yet. We were innocents. My mother was a noncombatant. My father's only crime was in loving his family enough that he would do whatever he had to do to keep them safe. Beru and Owen were very different from my parents, but they understood that. They were good people who couldn't honorably allow innocent children to be taken from their parents and trained as killers. They died because they wouldn't turn their backs or close their eyes and look the other way."

Mara Jade clenched her teeth, and her jaw quivered slightly. It was becoming more difficult for her dispute what Ani was saying. She may have honestly believed that Owen and Beru had knowingly hidden war criminals, and she may have been of the opinion that their actions made them enemies of the state. Despite all that, she couldn't convince herself that turning the Kenobis over to the Empire would have been the honorable response. If it was honorable to give children over to Palpatine, she wouldn't have such relief when she realized that she would not have to deliver Shmi and Jareth to her Emperor today.

Ani felt her resentment growing hotter, building even more quickly than he had anticipated. Anger began to leak through her internal walls as well—old, deeply rooted anger, Ani realized. It wasn't directed at him, and he couldn't pinpoint its origin, but he knew that Mara might easily turn it on him. He caught glimpses of shadowed memory that began to bubble onto the surface of her mind. The Dark Side permeated them, cold, rank with malignance and the shrill, helpless fear of a child. The Dark Man—Mara pushed the memory-images away, unwilling to face them.

"Beru and Owen died because they had droids that Vader wanted," she said with forced callousness.

Ani took a step back in his psychological gambit. Those images and the feelings that went with them were too close to his own traumatic childhood experiences. He couldn't push further without more information—and even if he had it, he doubted that he would be willing to use it.

"The droids were sold to Owen by Jawas. The troops that Vader sent to retrieve them tracked them that far, killed the Jawas, and then burned the farm when they couldn't find what they were looking for. Beru and Owen didn't have them. They had no idea where Luke had taken them or why," he told her.

"And you expect me to believe that your honorable aunt and uncle would have betrayed their friends if they had known?" Mara asked sarcastically.

"No," Ani smiled. Then he paused, turning toward the door. He tilted his head to one side, and heard Padme get to her feet at the same time. His smile widened, and he held out his hand to her. "Looks like the party's over, Mom."

"No, son, the party's just starting," Padme smiled back. "Your clothes are on the kitchen table, Mara Jade. Be careful."

"…Of what?" Mara asked warily.

"I think you know," Padme replied.


	223. A Culmination of Endings

After Ani and Padme left the room, Mara sprang up from the edge of the bed and paced the room like a cat held too long in a cramped cage. Ani's last statement to her still echoed through her mind.

_"…my mother was a noncombatant…"_

Luke had used the same argument—the same _words_ when they had dueled on Mustafar. She'd known then that he was right. She would have broken off the fight then and there if the Emperor had not used the Force to command that she continue. What else could she do but obey? She was the Emperor's Hand. Yet, she knew—and she had forced herself not to look at the knowledge—that Luke was right.

By the same token, Ani was right today. He was right about the Lars' too, although she wouldn't have given him the satisfaction of admitting it. These people weren't evil. They were—what? _Fighting for their lives,_ the answer came. She scrubbed her face with her hands, wanting to argue that they wouldn't have had to be fighting for their lives if they had not been traitors to the Empire. The very obvious problem with that line of thinking, however, was the question of _why_ they had chosen to defy Palpatine's rule.

Four years ago, she had believed that the Jedi were dissident fanatics whose goal was to destroy the Empire that was both home and family to her. Since that time, everything she had seen about the Kenobis—who were, in essence, all that remained of the Jedi Order—demonstrated that they were not fanatics. They were anything but fanatical in their approach to the war they were fighting. They resisted combat unless it was the only alternative; always sought to minimize the bloodshed and mindless destruction that seemed to characterize much of the way that Imperial troops conducted their warfare; and they were unfailingly ethical, honorable, and humane in their treatment of prisoners. Mara had seen enough of the Empire by now to realize that none of those things could be said for it.

The Kenobis, who were not extremists, and who governed themselves with equity, had chosen to defy the Empire. Why? If Ani was right, they had been in fear of their lives when they fled to Tatooine at the end of the Clone Wars. Ani was right about everything else. She had been able to detect no deception from him, which meant, at least, that he must believe what he told her. Yet he said himself that he had only been five years old when the family went into exile. Could he have truly understood so much? Did he know the whole story, even now, or did he know only what Obi Wan wanted him to think?

Angrily, Mara shook her head. She didn't have a ready answer. She wasn't sure that she wanted one. Whether she did or not, though, it was going to have to wait. The priority at the moment was to get herself _out_ of here before her erstwhile hosts changed their minds and decided that they wanted an Imperial prisoner after all.

She waited until she could hear no voices or footsteps and sensed no other sign of occupation in the house. She knew what it was that Ani and Padme had sensed; she, too could feel the impending arrival of the rest of the Kenobi horde. The ones here would be outside watching for the _Falcon_.

The convenient vacating of the house, which provided her with an open path of escape and did not require any sort of confrontation was not lost on her. In fact, it brought a twitch of a smile to her lips as she cautiously eased open the door. She didn't expect resistance, but there was also no sense in taking chances.

The hallway took her to a narrow, low doorway that opened out into the empty kitchen. As promised, her clothes lay in a neatly folded bundle on the end of the table. A quick search through them revealed that all of her weapons had been returned, with the notable exception of her lightsaber.

"Typical," she sighed, further noting that the money she'd spent on the kids in Anchorhead had also been replaced, and at a considerably high rate of interest. She swept the warm, homey little room with a gaze that absorbed and locked away all of its details for later examination, and frowned in consideration. She didn't see anything that might have been a place to stash a lightsaber; in all likelihood, one of the Kenobis was now carrying it. She could tear the house apart looking, but she probably wouldn't find it, and by the time she finished, Luke and the rest of them would be back. She didn't much feel like having to fight her way through _that_ many of them just for the sake of a weapon, even one as important as her lightsaber.

Resigning herself to its temporary loss, she dressed as quickly as she could, not even bothering to take off the ridiculous nightgown. She pulled her clothes on over it, checked her weapons and returned them to their hiding places, smoothed her hands over her hair, and then crept out into the yard.

The Kenobis all stood at the far end with their backs to the house and pretended not to notice. A landspeeder had been left handily near the door, and the only way that they could have made Mara's "escape" any easier would have been to leave it running. Shaking her head, she approached the vehicle with more caution than she probably needed to, and gave it a thorough once over before she allowed herself to get inside. If they could stand there with their backs turned, the least she could offer them was the credit of pretending to think there might have been a trap of some kind.

"This is ridiculous," she said as she realized that the key was already in the ignition.

* * *

  
Han could see reasonably well by the time the _Falcon_ set down in what he assumed was the Kenobis' backyard. The big white blur that he'd been able to see while they were being taken to their deaths in the sarlacc pit had sort of coalesced into blurry but recognizable shapes. As long as he was around people he knew—in relatively small groups—he could figure out who and where everyone was. The big furry blur was Chewie. The short blond blur was Luke. Lando was the taller blur dressed as a Hutt Guardsman. The female blur that looked like it was wearing a bikini was obviously Leia, and he really wished he could see that one better.

As she led him down the ramp, he saw the mass of other blurs waiting for them and gave an inward groan. Not that he wasn't happy to see them—well—not see them—whatever. It would just have been a lot nicer if he had been able to figure out who was who before they all started grabbing him.

One of the shapes broke away from the lumpy cluster and raced for the ship. Judging from its height, hair color, and the fact that it was shrieking his name at the top of its deceptively large lungs, he guessed it was Shmi. He was proven right a few moments later, when he reached the desert floor and the little-girl shape launched itself at him, wrapped its legs around his waist, and tried to strangle him.

"Hey, hey, save that for Lando!" he protested.

"Excuse me?" Lando piped up from behind him.

"Han, are you okay?" Shmi asked anxiously.

"Yeah, yeah, kid, I'm fine. I'd be a lot better if I could breathe…" he said.

"Sorry," she loosened her grip a bit but didn't let go.

Han sighed. "What's this I hear about you stealin' a speeder?"

"Well, um, it was…kind of…a long story," she replied as the rest of the family started to filter in around them, all talking and laughing and trying to get their arms around him at once.

"I'll bet…" Han managed to say, suddenly feeling a little space-sick as the Kenobis passed him around for smothering, wet cheek kissing—that had to be Obi-Too and Junior—hair ruffling, which he assumed was Isaly, back-clapping that felt like Ani, and all manner of other enthusiastic welcomes.

Just when he thought he was about to go from squeamish to throwing up, they finally got the hint and backed off to give him some air. The whole group had been moving toward a big squat blob at the other end of the yard. He guessed that was the house, and since he was too confused and tired to protest, he simply let them carry him along with them like a massive tide.

As they reached the doorway, he heard a voice he didn't recognize, and noticed a strange, tallish blob with long hair and a gray peasant's cloak leaning against the outside of the house. The tone was both amused and a little uncomfortable, but Han thought the words were sincere.

"Welcome home, Captain Solo."

"Who's this guy?" he asked, swiveling his head toward the rest of the family in search of an explanation.

"I'm General Kenobi's bodyguard," the stranger replied.

"Hey, I thought that was my job!" Han quipped.

"Well, you weren't around, so we had to hire someone else," Isaly laughed, leaning over his shoulder.

"Oh, I see how it is. I'm gone for a while, and all the sudden there's a new guy around to replace me," Han nodded.

"No one could replace you, son," he heard the old man say from his other side. Obi Wan's hand moved to his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze.

"Not by a long shot," Leia assured him, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

* * *

Being back aboard a starship still felt odd to Master Yoda after the many years that he had spent in exile on Dagobah. Indeed, the ancient Jedi had not expected to leave the swamp again until his time came to become one with the Force. The Kenobis had changed that prospect, though, since Ani and Luke had not felt comfortable with leaving him alone there for an extended period of time once they decided to help their family with the search for Han Solo. Ani was still concerned that Vader might have discovered the ancient Master's whereabouts when he touched the Sith Lord's mind during his meditation. So, while the rest of the far-reaching family was engaged in their efforts to find and retrieve the freighter captain, Bail Organa had journeyed into the swamp to collect Yoda.

The old Grand Master found that rather fitting, since it had been Senator Organa whose ship had carried him into exile in the first place. He also had to admit that the chambers had been given aboard Ackbar's flagship were a far sight warmer and more comfortable than the little house he had built himself on Dagobah. The fact that he no longer had to cook for himself was also a plus, since he had become rather used to Isaly Kenobi's culinary skills and had begun to realize that his own were rather lacking—although he wouldn't mention that revelation to either of his current pupils.

At the moment, they were still bringing Solo back from Tatooine. While waiting for them to arrive, Yoda sat crosslegged atop a large, round, backless chair. Mace Windu stood on his left, both hands clasped behind his back. Qui-Gon Jinn stood on the right, pensively stroking his beard.

"I believe that Ani is ready as well," Qui-Gon announced suddenly.

"No," Mace shook his head. "Ani must still face the Emperor before he can be made a Jedi Master."

Yoda narrowed his eyes to slits, weighing his response carefully. After a long time, he said, "Agree with Master Windu, I do. But considered also must Obi Wan's opinion be. Agreed we all are concerning the twins. Enough shall this be for now. Continue, the Jedi Order will."

"Will you join us, then, Master Yoda?" Windu asked. "It appears that your task is complete."

"Noooo," crooned the oldest and wisest of the Jedi, slowly shaking his head. "There is another."

As he spoke, the door to his chambers slid open, and Bail Organa stepped inside. "Excuse me, Master Yoda. The _Falcon's_ just brought the Kenobis home to roost."


	224. Where One Path Takes Us

A couple of caveats to readers. One, I will in all probablity be moving within the next month. I don't know exactly when I will have internet hooked up at my new place, so there is a possibility, albiet an unlikely one, that you may not get the end of the story until late June or even July. My goal is to have One Path finished by June, and I've been trying to work on it as much as possible lately in hopes that I won't have to take it on hiatus, but I may need to. I'll get back to posting as quickly as I'm able to, but if I'm not around for a while, don't worry that I've dropped off the planet or abandoned the project. Two, the next series of chapters (about 8 total so far) has been written out of order and pieced together with some scenes being moved around to accommodate changes in other scenes or additional material that we didn't know was coming. We think everything was ironed out, but if you catch any errors, just assume they're not mistakes and we did it on purpose let me know.

* * *

Obi-Too stood beside his brother amid a wide circle of friends and relatives aboard Admiral Ackbar's flagship. The briefing room where they had assembled was hot and stuffy with so many bodies in close proximity to one another, and only stale, recycled ship's air to breathe. He'd gotten used to fresh air on Tatooine. His Uncle Luke and some of the others complained about the sand and the heat of the desert, and while he didn't much like the heat, it seemed like a fair trade for air that wasn't canned. He tugged at the high collar of his jacket, and squirmed a little, hoping that for once, his grandfather wouldn't talk for very long. He caught a half formed thought from his brother that there wasn't much chance of _that_, and stifled a giggle behind his hand.

Beside him, Isaly gave his shoulder a not-quite-gentle flick. He looked up at her and quailed a bit under the look she gave him. Isaly and Padme were the only two people he knew who could say so much to a kid with the way that they raised their eyebrows. A certain wide arch with a slight tilt of the head was a curious question. Another, slightly lower and more furrowed look, accompanied by the raising of the chin meant that the question was not simply curious and had better be answered immediately, with complete candor. The particular eyebrow that the boy now found himself under was the most dire of them all. This one, which featured a set jaw and a crease in the center of the forehead, was a clear warning. He smiled winningly back at her, then straightened his shoulders and returned his attention to the rather boring Knighting Ceremony.

His grandfather had told him stories about life in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant long ago and the way that the old Jedi Order had passed on the title of Jedi Knight to their pupils. He knew that this was an important event for everyone in his family. He could feel how proud the adults all were, and how serious they all felt about what was happening. Even if he hadn't been able to sense those things in the Force, he would have known, because not only had Master Yoda come all the way from Dagobah to take part, but everyone who mattered to the family—everyone who came to breakfast or gathered with them at other, equally special times—was standing in the circle with him.

From the things that Obi Wan had told him about the old days, he knew that it used to be different. This had been a secret ceremony, closed to the public, and the circle in which the participants stood had been made of Jedi alone. Obi Wan said that there had been a great deal of honor in that solemn spectacle, and his young grandson never doubted what the venerable Jedi Master told him.

Yet, this gathering, as boring as all the talking was, seemed infinitely more satisfying. After all, who really wanted to have a big important thing happen to them without their family and friends allowed to see it? He was certain that the old way could not have been any more impressive than the sight that his aunt and uncle made today, standing back to back inside the circle that the rest of their family created for them.

Most of Obi Wan's speech was lost on the four-year-old, although he followed enough to understand that his namesake was talking about the gravity of the responsibilities that went along with the title of Jedi Knight; the balancing of the old with the new and not losing sight of one for the sake of the other; and remembering that no one, whether Jedi or Rebel soldier, politician, or farmer, could ever truly stand alone. Obi-Too would later forget the words, but the intent of them sank deep into the youngster's subconscious, taking root even while he was unaware that they did so. In time, they would bear fruit for the Jedi Order and for the New Galactic Republic that all of these individuals had come together to usher into existence.

They would also have a deep, if different affect on his twin brother. Junior heard and received them with the same relative lack of interest that Obi-Too had for them. He loved his grandfather, and he would happily listen to Obi Wan talk for as long as the man wanted to, but he cared very little about the Jedi Code or keeping peace throughout the galaxy. He wasn't even really sure what "peace" meant, except that the grown-ups often talked about it as what would happen when Palpatine was dead and they had a real Republic instead of the Rebel Alliance and the Empire. He did know that being a Jedi Knight was important, and that the Jedi were part of what made his family different from so many other people they knew. He knew that a Jedi's job was to help people and fight against anybody who tried to hurt others, and that was enough for him.

That was what Luke and Leia did already, so he wasn't sure why he felt chills go up his back when Obi Wan finally stopped talking. He had the sense that something was about to change, and he felt the Force surge and sizzle in his own small body as the moment of that change arrived. He felt and almost heard a whisper of satisfaction, of finality that then burst into newness to begin again.

Obi Wan took a step backward, joining Padme, Ani and Yoda to form a smaller circle around Luke and Leia. As usual, Luke and Ani were mirror images of one another, dressed in the same simple black uniform that they had adopted after Cloud City. Leia and Padme both wore elegant white gowns and had their hair in similar, lustrous piles of braids atop their heads, which gave them an equally obvious and striking symmetry. The effect was concluded by Obi Wan and Yoda, who stood opposite one another in the circle, each wearing the well-worn brown robes that he had worn into exile so many years ago. The Jedi held the hilts their lightsabers solemnly in front of them, and then as one the three blades flowed to life. Then they raised and lowered their weapons in silent salute as Luke and Leia bowed their heads.

"Conferred upon you both, the rank of Jedi Knight has been," Yoda declared.

* * *

Lord Vader strode down the hallway and into the docking bay where the Emperor's shuttle was due to arrive. He was accompanied by a very nervous Death Star commander, and he took a certain amount of perverse pleasure in the little man's discomfort. He was not particularly looking forward to the arrival of his Master, although he kept that sentiment buried deep in the most secluded regions of his psyche. Since the compartment in his cabin aboard the _Executor_ had been pilfered by Anakin Kenobi's delinquent offspring, he had taken to carrying what remained of his private mementos in specially constructed sheaths that were hidden behind his cloak. The idea had come, ironically enough, from the one that Princess Leia had worn on Cloud City, and they were adequate to conceal the lightsabers from most people—not that _most_ people would question the Dark Lord about why he was carrying them in the first place. Still, he did not know whether the weapons would escape Palpatine's notice. Normally, if he had to see the Emperor face to face, he removed them, but there was no safe place to store such things on this accursed battle station, and he _would not_ leave them aboard the _Executor_ again.

Thousands of Imperial troops filled the mammoth docking bay, all in tight and absolutely precise formation. Vader and Commander Jerjerrod moved silently to the landing platform, where Palpatine's shuttle was coming to rest. After a beat, the ship's ramp began to snake its way toward the platform. When it halted, six red-robed Imperial Guards trekked down in grand procession to form a lethal honor guard on either side of it. As soon as they were in position, Vader took a single step forward and dropped to one knee, showing none of the disdain he felt for this ridiculous pomp and ceremony. Behind him and to one side, Jerjerrod knelt as well, and Vader could fairly feel the man quaking with a fear that he could barely contain.

Palpatine appeared, a black-robed spider who scuttled his way down the ramp and poised himself over the kneeling pair as if they were insects trapped in his web. Perhaps they were at that. With his head bowed, Vader waited for the worst. He knew that if Palpatine realized what he was carrying, the Emperor would say nothing, at least in public, but his own skill and strength in the Force would tell him whether or not his secrets still remained safely his.

"Rise, my friend," the Emperor commanded.

_Friend,_ sneered Vader silently, even as he obeyed. _You are no one's friend. And I am certainly not yours_ my Master.

Vader's punishment for failing to bring the Kenobi brothers before the Emperor after Cloud City had been severe and multifold. His mind and body had been plunged into an abyss of suffering the likes of which he had not experienced since his the first few wretched months of his existence after Mustafar, when the pain of his injuries was new and raw, the suit was a fresh hell, and there was no hyperbaric chamber in which he could escape its claustrophobic confines. The techniques that he had gleaned from the Jedi before his escape had been of no use to him then, because it was necessary to allow the Emperor to think that he had no defense. The pain and rage, of course, provided him with new weapons—weapons that he could and would bring to bear against his so-called Master very soon—but for the moment, he knew that he must continue to bide his time.

Vader rose and fell into step beside the Emperor as Palpatine slowly made his way along the stalwart rows of troops. Jerjerrod and the other commanders remained kneeling until they passed, then joined in at the end of the procession.

"The Death Star will be completed on schedule," Vader assured the Emperor.

"You have done well, Lord Vader. And now I sense you wish to continue your search for the young Kenobi brothers," said Palpatine.

After a moment's hesitation, Vader replied, "Yes, my Master."

"Patience, my friend. In time they will seek you out. And when they do, you must bring them before me. They have has grown strong together, and the bond between them must be shattered completely. Only together can we turn him to the Dark Side of the Force.

"As you wish," Vader promised.

"Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen," Palpatine cackled.

_Beware what you have seen,_ my Master. _ Your sight has been clouded before, and I can cloud it again,_ thought the Dark Lord. Once he had done so to save Anakin Kenobi from the Dark Side. Now, though, he understood that this had been a grave mistake. However, it was a mistake that could still be corrected, and Vader would do so one way or another—if not with one Kenobi, then with another.


	225. Marching Onward

The briefing concerning the mission to Endor loomed as the Kenobis and their friends gathered to celebrate the twins' Knighting. The ceremony had been unique, conceived by Obi Wan and Padme as something that would signify both a new beginning for the Jedi Order and continued respect for its ancient heritage and Force tradition. Ironically enough, Obi Wan had asked for Padme's help in creating it because he felt that her political sensibilities would be helpful in crafting something which struck the appropriate balance. Padme had not been entirely certain how their joint effort would be received, but the overwhelming response of the guests at the subsequent reception was positive.

She smiled in her husband's direction, accepting the drink he offered her from the tray that Artoo was currently carrying about the room. He gave her a knowing look in return, then lifted his own drink to his lips and guided her toward the buffet table where the twins and Han were talking with Pooja.

Lando reached them about the same time that Padme and Obi Wan did, and he smiled brightly, inclining his head as he recognized Padme's niece. Obi Wan sighed quietly, raising his eyes to the ceiling, and his wife gave him a discreet elbow in the ribs.

"What?" he whispered.

"Behave," she instructed fondly but firmly.

"I am behaving," he assured her.

"Good then. Shh," Padme murmured.

"Pooja!" Lando was exclaiming in surprise. "What an unexpected pleasure."

"Hello, Lando," the young former senator said with a merry sparkle of laughter in her tone. "It's good to see you again."

"And you," Lando nodded. "You're a long way from the Lake Country."

"Do you still like the view?" Pooja inquired.

"Most definitely," Lando grinned back unrepentantly.

"Here we go," Han rolled his eyes. "Mom, you think you can do something about this guy before he embarrasses himself?"

"I don't know, Han, he seems to be doing quite well without my interference," Padme shrugged.

"Listen, old buddy, maybe you should be worried about embarrassing yourself," Lando shot back at Han good naturedly.

"Hey, now…" Han protested.

"Nevermind," Leia interrupted smoothly. "I'd say your both about neck and neck in that department anyway."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with my cousin," Pooja told Lando teasingly.

He ducked his head in a gesture of acceptance. "Well, I hope I'll at least be given an opportunity to redeem myself."

"What, again?" Han snorted.

"Come on, Han," Ani laughed as he and Isaly walked up behind the twins. "Not everybody's as naturally heroic as you are. He placed his hands on his siblings' shoulders and leaned in to kiss Leia's cheek. "Congratulations, Sis. Luke."

"What are _you_ talkin' about, Ani?" Han quipped.

"Excuse me?" Ani raised an eyebrow as he slipped over to the table and started to fill up a plate.

"While Lando and me were about to be eaten by a sarlacc, you were off havin a tea party with Mara Jade!" Han reminded him.

"I seem to recall it was Lando who was about to be eaten," Ani pointed out.

"Whatever, close enough," Han shook his head.

"That sounds like quite an interesting story," remarked Pooja.

"I don't know, I think the embarrassment quotient might get a little too high for poor General Calrissian here," Isaly laughed.

"What is all this sudden concern about causing me embarrassment?" Lando inquired.

"General?" Pooja gave him a genuine look of surprise.

Lando's smile took on a hint of uncharacteristic modesty. "Someone must have told the Alliance about my little maneuver at the battle of Tanaab."

"Well, don't look at me, pal. I just said you were a fair pilot. I didn't know they were lookin' for somebody to lead this crazy attack," Han remarked sarcastically.

"I'm surprised they didn't ask you to do it," Lando bantered.

"Well, who says they didn't? But I'm not crazy. You're the respectable one, remember?" countered Han.

"You're leading the attack on the Death Star, Lando?" Pooja interjected, frowning in consternation.

"Never fear," Lando smiled, his moment of humility fading under his typically charming smile. "I fully intend to keep our appointment at Varyinko when the battle is over."

"Wait a minute. What appointment at Varyinko?" Han looked from one to another in sudden confusion.

"I'm sure you do," Pooja shook her head at Lando, not bothering to answer Han's question. "You know, you'd almost redeemed yourself."

"Well, I'll just have to keep trying."

"Hold on, here. _What_ appointment at Varyinko?!" Han repeated as the group began to drift apart, disintegrating into smaller groups and private conversations.

Padme slipped her hand onto his arm and smiled. "Nevermind, son. Come on, I want to talk to you. Leia, we'll bring him back in a few minutes, all right?"

"Don't rush," Leia rolled her eyes.

* * *

  
Han fell into step beside Padme and Obi Wan, following the older couple away from the crowd. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that Lando and Pooja had moved off together and were standing in an alcove at the back of the room, engaged in something that looked suspiciously like a serious conversation. He scratched the back of his neck and shook his head, trying not to pay attention. Obi Wan slipped his arm around his wife, giving her a _look_ that drew Han's attention.

"Darling. No," he directed.

"No, what, Obi Wan," she tilted her head at him in innocent surprise.

"I know exactly what you are thinking, Padme. Just. No," he said.

"How can you know what I'm thinking? Have you been reading my mind again, Master Jedi?" she teased.  
"No. I don't need to read your mind any longer," he smiled.

"Oh, yes that's right. What was it, a husband anticipating his wife's thoughts or something like that?" she asked.

"Something like that. I don't remember exactly. Our honeymoon was a long time ago, and I was distracted," he told her fondly.

"Hey, somebody wanna clue me in?" Han asked.

"Well, Han, I do have another niece," Padme replied with a grin.

Han squinted one eye at her. "Yeah…?"

Obi Wan covered his face with his hand and sighed. "No one listens to me. Ever."

"Huh?" Han blinked.

"Han," Padme winked at him. "I was just wondering if there might be another decent scoundrel somewhere in the galaxy."

Han raised his eyebrows, looking back at her in startled amazement for several seconds. Then a slow, conspiratorial grin spread over his face. "I dunno, Mom. Maybe if we play our cards right."  


* * *

Ani had lost track of his brother sometime before the party ended. The last time he'd seen Luke had been from across the room, while the younger Kenobi brother was talking to Hardy, Jareth, and Shmi. Then he'd gotten distracted listening to Chewie and Yoda tell his sons about the Battle of Kashyyyk, and by the time he looked up again, Luke was gone. That had been about three hours ago, and now the festive mood had faded as the Rebel Alliance assembled to prepare for its assault on the second Death Star. He and Luke were supposed to be in the War Room already, but when Luke hadn't arrived by the time that Mon Mothma did, Ani quietly left and went to search for him.

He didn't think that he would be missed very much during Mon's speech or Admiral Ackbar's tactical advisory. Han had asked him and Isaly to be members of the strike team that he was leading onto the forest moon of Endor, but neither of them really had to be at the briefing. Isaly was going as a field medic, but Ani had no official rank in the Alliance. His presence was strictly a discretionary decision on Han's part. No one would question that choice or the newly commissioned General Solo's right to make it, but his lack of status did give Ani the luxury of being able to slip out of the meeting without raising too many eyebrows. Luke, on the other hand, still carried the rank of Commander, and he really should have been in attendance if he was going to be part of Han's command crew.  
He wasn't particularly surprised to find Luke alone in his cabin, staring out at the stars beyond the large transparisteel viewport. His hands were clasped lightly behind his back and he stood in a contemplative posture that was at once familiar and unnerving to his older brother.

"What's on your mind?" Ani asked quietly.

"Wondering where Mara Jade's gotten to, I guess," Luke shrugged without turning.

Ani ducked to hide the smile that came unbidden to his lips. He quickly recovered and slipped further into the room, moving to stand at Luke's right. "You think the journal will have any effect?"

"I don't know. It all depends on Mara. She's the one who has to decide whether to read it or not. She'll know that Mom put it in there on purpose," Luke replied.

"But she should also know that it's genuine. We certainly didn't have time to create some kind of false document while we kept her in the house," Ani observed.

Luke nodded. "Still it's up to her. And it's a lot to read. That's why Mom gave Leia an abridged version after the Battle of Yavin."

"Mm-hm," Ani agreed, leaving the other things that he might have said unspoken.

Luke didn't need anyone to tell him that until Mara Jade made her decision, there was nothing more that he or any of the Kenobis could do for her. He also didn't need to be reminded of how much energy and focus was being wasted while he brooded over the woman. Slowly, he turned toward Ani, and a half smile curved his mouth upward. Ani smiled back and inclined his head in silent understanding and acknowledgement. Probably, if their positions had been reversed, Luke would have given Ani that last verbal push. They had different ways of approaching their practice of the Jedi Arts, and both knew it. Neither minded, chiefly because they had learned to respect and appreciate the value of contrasting methodology from one another.

"Shall we go?" Ani suggested. "Wouldn't want to irritate Mon Mothma by missing her introduction."

"Yeah," Luke nodded in amusement.

They walked from his cabin to the war room in relative silence. Nothing in particular needed to be said between them. They exchanged pleasantries with crewman and droids they passed along the way but otherwise remained comfortably within their own thoughts. Once they arrived, they parted ways, with Ani remaining in the back of the room and respectfully out of the military's limelight.

"General Solo, is your strike team ready?" the Alliance general Crix Madine was asking.

"Uh, my strike team's ready," Han replied, sounding a bit uncomfortable with scrutiny of this sort. "I don't have a command crew for the shuttle."

Chewie immediately volunteered, shooting Han a slight look of reprimand as he raised his paw.

"Well, it's gonna be rough, pal. I didn't want to speak for you," Han apologized.

Chewie waved that off with a huge growl.

Han smiled. "That's one."

"Uh, General," Leia spoke up with both amusement and admiration in her voice. "I'm with you too."

"I'm with you too!" Luke promised as he descended the steps to join them.

Leia swiftly got up to embrace her twin and gave him an appraising look. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine," he nodded. "As long as we're all in this one together."


	226. Over The Hills and Far Away

Shmi and Jareth crouched behind some cargo crates just beyond the docking bay where the shuttle _Tydirium_ waited for the strike team to come aboard. As usual, the hangar was bustling with activity, and no one noticed the pair of uninvited observers. Han had already walked Lando to the _Falcon_ and walked off again without spotting them, which was, in Shmi's mind, the ultimate test of their ability to avoid detection.

Han, Isaly, the twins, and Ani had all said their goodbyes to the delinquent pair after the briefing in the War Room, and they had given the pair a nice, long lecture about why they weren't allowed to come to Endor. Ani went so far as to say that he didn't want them anywhere _near_ the hangar until after the _Falcon_ and the _Tydirium_ had both lifted off. He said that this should alleviate anyone's sudden temptation to tag along, which would have been effective if it hadn't provided Shmi with such a nice long window of time when everyone would be busy and no one would wonder why she and Jareth weren't there to bid their family members farewell.

It hadn't taken much effort for her to convince Jareth to come down here with her, although he insisted that he wasn't actually _agreeing_ to go anywhere so much as trying to talk her out of it. With the whole family and most of their close friends occupied in some facet of preparation for the Fleet's attack on the Imperial battle station, all the two of them had to do was wait until Hardy took Obi-Too and Junior for their appointment with Rei. Since they were grounded already, no one would wonder where they were or why their bedroom door was shut—at least until dinner, but by that time, the _Tydirium_.

"All right," Jareth whispered grumpily. "We're here. But I'm not going any further. How do you think we're going to get away with this anyway?"

"All we have to do is get inside and hide. There's got to be some empty cargo space or something in there. They're not taking anything except people," Shmi said.

"But Master Ani told us to stay _here_!" he protested. "He said it was an _order!_

"He's going," Shmi said, raising her eyebrows in silent challenge.

"I know…?"

"So is Han," she pointed out.

"Yes, I know. He's the general now, remember?" Jareth quipped.

"How could I forget?" she rolled her eyes. "And that means we have to go."

"Why?"

"Because Han and Daddy are our _Masters_, Jareth," she shook her head. It was a fairly obvious answer as far as she was concerned. Masters and Apprentices were supposed to stay _together_, and having just spent a year trying to get Han _back_, she wasn't about to leave his side again.

"So what?" Jareth asked.

"SO?" repeated Shmi incredulously.

"Shh!" he warned, waving his arm.

Shmi lowered her voice to a fierce whisper. "Do you want to let our masters fly off to fight prune-face without us?"

"Well, no…" he bit his lip. "But they ain't even supposed to be fighting prune-face, Shmi. All they gotta do shut down the shield generator so the Fleet ships can blow up the Death Star."

"Right," Shmi rolled her eyes.

"What?" Jareth frowned at her, and she struggled against the temptation to rap on his head and ask if anyone was home.

"You're the Jedi Padawan. You tell me," she shook her head with a long sigh.

"What am I supposed to be telling you?" he demanded.

"You know how the Force works by now," she huffed. "The Alliance just _happens_ to be sending _three_ Jedi Knights to a place where the Emperor—a Sith Lord—just _happens_ to already be waiting, and you think they're _not_ going to end up in the same room?"

Jareth stared at her for a long moment, processing what she'd said. As he considered it, his bottom lip jutted out in a thoughtful pucker, and then his eyes began to grow wide with the same alarmed realization that she had already made. He gulped.

"Oh."

"Once we're inside, I can keep them from noticing us, at least a little while," Shmi said. "Long enough so they can't turn around and bring us back."

"Then what?"

"I guess we get in trouble, but at least we'll be able to help them," she said firmly.

"I don't know…" he hesitated.

"What do you mean, you don't know? What's to know?" she hissed.

"Shmi, we're already grounded until the end of the war at _least_!," he reminded her.

"Exactly. So how much worse could things possibly get?" she asked.

Jareth sighed. "I don't think I really wanna know."

* * *

  
"I feel I should be with them," Obi Wan said as he and Bail traversed the flagship's stark white halls toward his family's quarters.

"I understand how you feel," Bail sighed, and his friend did not doubt it.

As a Jedi and a father, Obi Wan had trained his children to shoulder the responsibilities of restoring both the Jedi Order and the democracy that it had defended and served. Bail had done no less for Leia. He had taken her into his home and family, raised her with all the privilege and commitment to duty and public service that characterized the House of Organa. Those ideals, above anything else, had been what initially sparked a friendship between Bail and the Kenobis, even though he and Padme had been on opposite sides of certain issues in the Galactic Senate.

Both men had sense dedicated their lives to the toppling of Palpatine's illegal and immoral regime. They had invested every resource at their disposals, both personal and financial, withholding not even their own children. In fact, teaching their children to value and defend the freedoms that they cherished had been an honor for them. Now, those children had gone to war without them.

It was not the first time. Leia had taken an active role in the leadership of the Rebellion since she assumed her seat in the Imperial Senate at the age of sixteen. After the Battle of Yavin, Luke had led Rogue Squadron into battle countless times, and Obi Wan had learned first-hand what sort of agonized waiting that his young family used to endure during the Clone Wars. Even Ani, who had remained faithfully at his father's side from the time the Republic fell, eventually had to face Darth Vader without a mentor to guide him.

Yet for all that, this time felt different. So much hung upon the success of this attack. Everything for which they had struggled, fought and suffered—everything for which the people of Alderaan and untold others had given their lives—was coming to its culmination on and above the forest moon of Endor. It was fitting that Leia, Luke, and Ani should be there. It was also fitting that Han and Lando, whose commitment to the Rebel Alliance had not come to them so easily as an extension of the values with which they had been indoctrinated throughout their lives but had been hard won by their own consciences and personal suffering, should be leading the assaults. Obi Wan knew these things, and he was sure that Bail understood them as well. He also knew that, before this was over, at least one of his children was going to have to face Darth Sidious in combat, and that knowledge chilled him.

Suddenly, however, he frowned and his unease over an impending confrontation with the Sith Lord was pushed back by the pressure of another, more immediate sense of alarm. Bail's hand moved to his shoulder as Obi Wan reached outward through the Force. His friend waited a moment or two, then remarked softly,

"I know that look."

"Something's wrong," Obi Wan said, and the two of them picked up their pace.

Reaching his quarters, they found Padme standing in the open doorway to the room that Shmi and Jareth had shared since the escape from Cloud City. Beyond her, he could see that neither of the two delinquents were there. Both bunks were piled with bundles which, when hidden under blankets, he supposed were meant to mimic the shapes of human bodies. Hardy was leaning against the wall inside, his hands clenched into fists in frustration.

"Oh no," Bail sighed.

"How long have they been gone?" Obi Wan asked.

"I don't know, General," Hardy replied, looking up sharply to meet his gaze. "I went to take the boys for their minder appointment, and then—I just went for a walk. I wanted to think. Met Senator Kenobi in the hall and we came back here. They were gone."

"Where are the boys now?" frowned Bail.

"Still with Rei," Padme replied.

"Then they can't have been gone that long," he said speculatively.

"Both the _Falcon_ and the _Tydirium_ have already launched," Obi Wan sighed. "We can get a message off to Lando, but Han should be in hyperspace, and when they come out, they'll undoubtably maintain radio silence. We don't want the Empire picking up any transmissions between _Tydirum_ and the Fleet."

"I should have known better than to leave those two alone!" Hardy exclaimed.

"It wasn't your fault," Padme told him firmly.

"Of course it was," he shook his head in self-disgust. "Who knows better than I do how good that pair are at running away at the _worst_ possible moment?"

"It's not your responsibility to be their shepherd, Hardy," she reminded him.

"Senator, with all due respect, if it isn't, then I don't have much purpose anymore," he said, scrubbing his face with his hands.

Obi Wan had no ready answer for that one. Padme met his gaze with a worried look that surprised him. He had grown very used to her ability to know what to say when he didn't. In fact, he had come to rely on it, even deluding himself into the notion that his wife simply _always_ knew what to say. For the Kenobis and the Organas, purpose was a simple matter. None of them thought about it. Purpose came from one another and from service to the greater good. It was difficult for all of them to conceive of being in the place where Hardy was now. Even in their darkest days, at the end of the Clone Wars, there had been purpose and commitment enough to galvanize them. Not so for this young man who had inadvertently been caught in the momentum of their battle.

They had swept Hardy along with them, thinking only to save him from Vader's wrath. Then, quite naturally, they set out to convert him to their cause. All of them believed that Palpatine was a tyrant whose rule needed to be broken so that peace and freedom could be restored to their galaxy. Knowing that Hardy believed something else had never dissuaded them since, naturally, their actions were guided by the convictions of their hearts. Convincing him that the Rebellion was just, that they were right, that the Empire and the leader that he had previously served were despotic and a breach of trust against the people who had brought Palpatine to power, had seemed to them a natural and righteous goal. For them it was a matter of enlightening the man—of opening his eyes to a larger reality and exposing the world of half-truths and outright lies that had formed the foundation of his existence as an Imperial stormtrooper. What they hadn't taken into consideration was that in destroying that foundation, however laudable their intent might have been, they were robbing the man of the purpose that had driven his life. Perhaps even more than that, they were taking his identity.

Obi Wan had felt something similar for a brief period of time after he left the Jedi Order. Life as a Jedi was all that he had known, and adjusting to new roles and expectations outside of that reality had been difficult. Unlike Hardy, though, he had not been effectively banished from the life he had known, and he had chosen to leave so that he could be with Padme. It had been a long and deliberate process for him, whereas for Hardy, everything had taken place in a matter of hours, and his decision had been, if not forced upon him, at least heavily influenced by circumstances over which he had been placed into by the actions of strangers. For all intents and purposes, the children _were_ his purpose now. Obi Wan couldn't profess to empathize with Hardy or even offer any sort of comfort. In all likelihood, the man would never be able to return to the life he had known.

"Han will bring them home," Padme promised quietly.


	227. Where One Path Takes Us II

After the Knighting ceremony, Master Yoda had put in an appearance at the Kenobis' reception, but he had been glad that no one pressed him to stay for very long. After his years of solitude on Dagobah, he still was not entirely used to being in the company of so many people, all of whom seemed to want his attention. He was sure that he could thank Senator Kenobi for the brevity of the time he had to stay at the party, and once he returned to his private chambers, his intention was to spend the rest of the day in meditation.

Something had been troubling him about the Rebel Alliance's plan to attack this gargantuan battle station of the Emperor's. He was not able to determine exactly what was wrong; the Force felt clouded to him when he probed this issue—clouded and cold, much as it had been in the dark days that brought Sidious to power.

This disturbed him even more than the lack of clarity. He was certain that it did not bode well for the attack. He had discussed his concerns with Obi Wan before plans had been finalized, and Obi Wan agreed. He brought Yoda's warning before the Alliance High Command, supplementing it with his own similar concerns, but this war was much different from the Clone Wars. Then, with Jedi Generals dictating much of what happened over the course of a campaign, a Jedi's intuition might be sufficient to sway a military decision. Now, as respected as Obi Wan and Yoda might be, so-called simple intuition wasn't enough to dissuade the Alliance when so much had been staked upon the success of this attack.

That, Yoda thought, was precisely the problem. Too much rode upon success at Endor, and he was not yet sure where the tide of the Force would turn. There was little he could do besides wait and watch, and he required clarity, so he climbed up onto his chair, laid his gimmer stick beside himself, and set out to find it.

Some time later, when he was deep into his mediation, the door chime sounded. The Master slowly drew himself out of his probing trance, shook off the disturbing sensation of cold, and opened his eyeys again. Then, carefully, he stretched out once more with his feelings. His eyes grew wider with surprise as he realized who was at the door, and he wriggled down out of the chair again, picking up the gimmer stick to make his way over. Once there, he waved the stick at the lock mechanism on the door's control panel, then jabbed at a button, which caused it to slide open.

Obi-Too and Junior waited solemnly on the other side and offered their teacher a deep bow. Yoda settled his stick back on the floor and folded his hands over it, regarding the younglings with gentle affection of the kind that he always reserved for students of their tender years.

"Hello, Master," Junior greeted him.

"Young Anakin," he nodded. "Obi-Wan."

"Can we talk to you for a minute, Master Yoda?" the younger brother asked hopefully.

"Yes, yes," Yoda assured him, stepping aside to wave them into the room. "Come. Come. Always welcome are you."

"Thank you, Master Yoda," Obi-Too smiled, leading the way inside.

"Troubled thoughts you have, hmm?" inquired Yoda as he guided them over to his chair.

"We…" began Obi-Too. Then he bit his lip, hesitating.

"Speak your fears you must," Yoda encouraged softly.

"We think something's wrong with our sister," Junior finished for him.

Yoda's sensitive ears pricked and swiveled toward them with concern. "Oh…?"

Obi-Too nodded reluctantly. "She used to worry about Han a lot. Now Han's back. But she's not better."

Yoda nodded slowly and climbed back into his chair, taking the time to think. He had only met Shmi Kenobi once, and although her feelings had seemed turbulent to him at the time, there had been a great deal of highly charged emotion over Solo's return and the impending attack on the Death Star. He had decided that the child's parents were the best judge of her emotional well-being, and Ani had not voiced any concern to him.

Picking up his gimmer stick again, he laid it across his lap and asked, "Spoken of this to your father, have you?"

"Daddy's kinda busy," Junior replied, frowning.

"Too busy to help, a Jedi is not," Yoda assured them.

"He's got a lot of people to save," explained Obi-Too. "Sides, we didn't know anythin' was the matter before Han got back."

"We thought we could help Sis ourselves. But we don't know what to do, Master," Junior sighed heavily.

Yoda nodded slowly and let his eyelids droop ponderously as he considered his reply. He rolled the gimmer stick back and forth under his hands and tested the Force. It was difficult for him to offer counsel when he had so little knowledge of the child. There was often more danger in a hasty action than in no action at all.

"Trust your feelings, you must. If a problem you sense and others do not, then call it to their attention must you. Come. Find your grandfather we will."

* * *

The door to the cramped compartment slid open, and Jareth squinted up at the black clad figure above them. The exterior light was so bright that he couldn't see more than the shape of the man, who stood with his hands on his hips as he peered down on them. That was plenty as far as he was concerned.

"I told you this wasn't going to work," he muttered to Shmi.

"Out of there," Ani said, coldly cutting off whatever bickering response she would have made. Then, without another word, he spun on his heel and led the delinquent duo into the shuttle's main cabin, where Isaly was frowning over the contents of a large medkit.

There were murmurs of surprise and a few knowing chuckles from the other members of the assault team, but the laughter quickly died away when the Rebel soldiers caught sight of Ani's expression. Jareth heaved a long, heavy sigh of resignation. He had already known that this scheme was going to get them into worse trouble, but he'd also known that Shmi would go whether he accompanied her or not. What was he supposed to do? Let her run off to Endor alone?

He hadn't counted on this sort of reaction from his Master, though. Ani had been angry and disappointed after what had happened with Mara Jade on Tatooine. Both Jareth and Shmi had been on the receiving end of an extended discourse on personal accountability for one's actions; respect for the law and for one's elders; the necessity of considering consequences before taking action; and various other tenets of Jedi philosophy. Ani made no bones about how much that they had both disappointed him, although he _did_ concede that he understood why they had gone after Mara in the first place. This time, though, his behavior went beyond shock and disappointment to a sort of quiet acceptance that hurt Jareth far worse—and he hadn't thought such a thing would be possible. It was as if his Master expected irresponsibility and disobedience from him now, and he wasn't at all surprised to find that the kids had not done what he told them to.

Isaly turned as they came in, and she slowly closed her eyes, raising her right hand to massage her eyes with the tips of her fingers. Ani waved his hand, gesturing the children toward her, but he still didn't speak. Wilting, Jareth slunk past him and moved to the side of the counter that Isaly was working on. Shmi scurried over with him, not daring to even apologize to her father.

"You're to stay near Han and I unless we tell you to hide," Ani instructed calmly. "And if we tell you to hide, you do so, immediately, and do not come out until you're told. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Shmi squeaked.

"Yes, Master," nodded Jareth.

"Looks like you were right, honey," he told Isaly with the faintest hint of ironic humor.

"I wish I hadn't been," she replied flatly.

"Me too," he said. "I have to get back in the cockpit. We're coming up on the station."

Isaly drew in a long breath, asking, "Is…Vader…?"

Ani nodded silently and whirled again, moving swiftly for the front of the shuttle. Shmi and Jareth watched until his back was gone, then cautiously looked back at Isaly. To Jareth's surprise, she had already returned her attention to the medkit.

"Help me with this," she instructed.

"Aren't you even gonna yell at us?" he asked.

"Do you know you're in trouble?" she inquired.

"Yeah…"

"You understand why, don't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Then for the moment, we have other things to concern ourselves with. Help me," she repeated.

"Yes, Isaly."

"Yes, Mother."

* * *

"If they don't go for this, we're gonna have to get outta here pretty quick, Chewie," Ani heard Han advise as he slipped into the cockpit. He hung back, leaning against the narrow doorway to watch and listen. For the moment, this was Han and Chewie's show, and he was more than content to let them have it.

"We have you on our screen now," came the voice of the station's space traffic controller. "Please identify."

"Shuttle _Tydirium_ requesting deactivation of the deflector shield," Han replied with admirable aplomb.

"Shuttle _Tydirium,_ transmit the clearance code for shield passage," the Imperial officer ordered.

"Transmission commencing," Han said with deceptive ease.

_He certainly is a good sabaac player,_ Ani observed silently. The tension in the small cabin was so thick that it grated against his skin like desert sand in the midst of a storm. He forced himself to breathe normally, keeping his expression calmly neutral.

"Now we find out if that code is worth the price we paid," Leia murmured quietly.

"It'll work. It'll work," Han assured them, but now that he wasn't playing a part, his tone betrayed his own uncertainty.

Chewie gave a nervous whine while Luke stared at the monolithic space station and the array of Imperial ships that dominated their exterior view. The _Executor_ drifted in front of it, looming ever closer as the _Tydirium_ moved toward its destination. Ani felt his brother's awareness shift as the ripple that he had already felt in the Force became apparent to him. Leia's shoulders stiffened at the same moment, and the twins turned to look at him.

"Vader's on that ship," Luke said quietly.

Ani nodded.

"Now don't get jittery, Luke. There are a lot of command ships," Han cautioned. "Keep your distance though, Chewie. But don't _look_ like you're trying to keep your distance."

"Shuttle _Tydirium,_ what is your cargo and destination?" another voice asked.

"Parts and technical crew for the forest moon," Han responded.

Chewie demanded to know how he was supposed to keep his distance without looking like he was trying to do so.

"I don't know," Han replied. "Fly casual."

"We're endangering the mission. We shouldn't have come," Luke fretted.

"It's your imagination, kid. Come on, let's keep a little optimism here," Han urged.

"Luke's right," Leia said softly. "Vader is on that ship."

"We had to be here," Ani spoke up. With the Emperor on the Death Star, there was no way that this mission could have succeeded without everyone's involvement. He'd already guessed that Vader would be here somewhere. It didn't make sense that Palpatine would expose himself in this manner without having Vader somewhere close by. It also didn't change the fact that this would be the only opportunity that the Rebellion got to put an end to the menace of this battle station—and if they kept their wits about them, they could accomplish far more than that.

"If Vader's there, it's a trap," Leia pointed out.

"Then we'll spring it," Ani said simply.

In the next instant, though, his resolve shattered as a chillingly familiar presence touched his mind. _So Anakin Kenobi. We meet again at last. The circle will soon complete itself for you and I. And this time, I shall not be so forgiving._

"Shuttle _Tydirium,_ deactivation of the shield will commence immediately. Follow your present course," the controller told Han.

"All right!" he exclaimed, expelling pent up nervous energy with a breath. "I told you it was gonna work."

Ani bowed his head. _So be it, Uncle. Let our circle be completed._


	228. Discoveries

"Man! How'd you get so heavy, kid?" Han complained in a terse whisper as he fought his way up the steep forest trail with Shmi on his back.

"Want me to take her for a while?" offered Leia, who was directly behind him.

"Nah, it's okay," he huffed.

Shmi slid her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder, smiling cutely. "I guess I must've grown up a lot while you were stuck in carbon freeze."

"Right," Han rolled his eyes. Sighing, he halted the march and let her slide to the ground. Then he gave her a stern glare which she knew meant business. "Stay put."

She gulped and nodded, then glanced back over her shoulder. Chewie and her Uncle Luke were directly behind them. The green helmets of the strike team bobbed in and out of the trees in a single file line after them, and somewhere at the rear were her parents and Jareth, who was riding on Ani's back. Shmi bit her lip. Even if there had been anywhere to go—and it didn't look like there was, at least not yet—she couldn't very well leave him behind. He might huff and complain about the trouble she got him into all the time, but she knew he'd be much more upset if she ran off and did something crazy by herself.

Lacking anything better to do and not quite sure she dared to test Han's patience so soon, she leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree and watched as the rest of the team filed past her. Ani and Isaly came around the bend in the trail and stopped beside her so that Ani could let Jareth down. He sprang off his Master's back and bounded over to Shmi, all the while making surprisingly little noise as he moved. Shmi had found that she couldn't take more than a few steps in the thick vegetation without crunching twigs or causing some kind of small animal or flurry of insects to go scuttling past her in a panic. She wasn't sure if it was Jedi training that gave him such an advantage or if it was some natural ability of his species, but she found it annoying.

Turning away from him without comment, she peered after Han, who was cresting the hill. He stopped suddenly, signaling the rest of the team to stay low on the forest floor. Han looked over his shoulder again, waving for Ani. Then he, Leia, Chewie and Luke carefully edged forward. Ani eased his way through the woods toward them and leaned against a tree just opposite of where the four of them were crouching.

Without waiting for permission—probably because he knew that he wouldn't receive it, Jareth dropped onto all fours and scrambled after Ani. With an outraged, silent huff, Shmi ducked low and followed him before Isaly had a chance to tell her no. Reaching the tree where her father was, both children planting planted their backs on the same side of it, cramming themselves as close together as possible to remain unseen. Ani poked his head around to glare at them.

"What are you doing?!" he whispered.

"You said to stay with you and Han!" Shmi reminded him in a fierce whisper of her own.

Jareth nodded firmly and pointed to Shmi, mouthing, "You said."

Across from them, Han sighed and ran a hand over his face, whispering, "Can ya be a little less specific next time, Ani?"

"I was trying to limit their options," Ani replied, raising his eyes to the clear, startlingly bright blue sky.

"Nevermind that now," urged Leia, pointing at something beyond the brush that hid them. Shmi couldn't tell what it was, but given how close they were to the shield generator, she had a feeling she knew. "Should we try and go around?"

"It'll take time. This whole party'll be for nothing if they see us," Han replied with a small, negative headshake. Then he raised a finger, indicating first Luke and Leia, then the kids. "You stay here. Chewie and I'll take care of this."

"_Quietly,_" Luke cautioned. "There might be more of them out there."

"Hey," Han reminded him with a reassuring grin. "It's me."

Ani sighed quietly as the new general started down through the bushes. Suddenly struck with inspiration, Jareth leaned forward and grabbed Ani's wrist, tugging earnestly for attention. Ani gave him a questioning look, and he pointed upward, into the tree branches.

"All right," Ani whispered with a nod of approval. "But be careful. And stay _up_ there."

"Yes, Master," he grinned. Then, almost faster than Shmi's eyes could follow, he scrambled up the thick tree trunk and swung himself into the branches, where he completely vanished in the cover of the heavy green pine branches.

Shmi glared, crossing her arms. "That is so not fair."

"Use the Force," Ani whispered, sounding surprisingly like his more usual, warm and friendly self.

"Oh!" Shmi nodded. "Right!"

Her father smiled very faintly, and she vaulted up into the tree. Using the momentum of a mid-air backflip, she catapulted herself even higher and landed astride the thick, gnarly branch just above Jareth. Sensing his outrage at the feat, she planted her hands in front of her and leaned over, giving him and upside-down view of her mocking expression before she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she quickly straightened and turned her attention toward Han.

He was busy sneaking up on a scout trooper, whose partner had his back to them a short distance away. Shmi couldn't see Chewie from her vantage point, but she assumed that the Wookiee was targeting the second scout with his bowcaster from somewhere in the trees. Han was almost on top of his quarry when he stepped on a twig and froze as the sound alerted the Imp to his presence. Shmi winced sympathetically as the scout spun around, clocking Han hard on the chin. Han flew backwards and landed in the dirt, narrowly avoiding having his head dent one of the trees, and the scout yelled for his partner.

"Go for help! Go!"

"Great!" Luke exclaimed, springing to his feet. "Come on!"

The second scout jumped on his speeder bike and took off, but Chewie jumped out from behind the trees and fired off a shot with his bowcaster. The shot struck home and sent the bike careening into a ditch while the rider tumbled from the seat. Shmi bounced with excitement, cheering her Wookiee friend, and then noticed that Han had sprung off the ground and grabbed the first scout by the arm, hurling him face first into a tree. She winced again.

Luke, Leia, and Ani raced toward the scuffle, but suddenly Leia turned, her attention drawn by something off the trail. Shmi scrambled around, craning her neck to peer in the direction that her aunt was looking, and spotted another pair of scout troopers sitting on their speeder bikes. A third, unoccupied bike was parked close to them.

"Over there!" Leia shouted. "Two more of them!"

"I see them," Luke replied as his sister raced toward the empty bike. "Wait! Leia!"

The troopers sped off, and Leia jumped on the remaining speeder bike, hurtling after them in hot pursuit. Luke jumped on behind her as she went, and the two of them sped off after the Imperials. Han whirled around as they sped off, raising his hand in dismay.

"Hey, wait! Ahh!"

Shmi strained to follow their progress through the thick forest, but after a short time, she couldn't be sure which of the bikes were which. Sighing in frustration, she clambered out of the tree and ran over to Isaly, who was busily making her way down to Ani and Han. She heard Jareth start to climb down after her but didn't bother waiting.

"Han, you okay?" she asked worriedly as she caught up with her mother.

"Yeah, kid, I'm fine, don't worry.

"Nice shot, Chewie," she congratulated the Wookiee, who patted her head in appreciation. His huge paw engulfed her whole head, making a mess of her braids by the time he was done rubbing. By then, Jareth had climbed out of the tree and raced down to them as well. Tossing her loosened braids away from her face, Shmi pinioned him with her meanest glare.

"Don't. say. a word. about. my head. Understand?" she demanded.

He raised his hands in front of his chest in a show of innocence. "I didn't say anything."

"I'm just warning you," she grumbled.

"Oh, course, your _highness_," he sighed.

"Enough," Isaly told both of them sternly. Then she looked at Han and tilted her head questioningly. "Well, General Solo, now what do we do?"

"Uh," said Han thoughtfully. "Looks like we wait. Either Luke and Leia'll stop 'em and head back here on their own, or will have more Imperial company pretty soon."

"All right," Ani said dubiously.

"Let's get back up there and try to stay out of sight, huh?" suggested Han.

Ani and Isaly nodded without further comment. Shmi frowned a little, somewhat surprised that both of them took orders from Han so easily. She knew that he'd been made into a general for this mission and everything, but that didn't change how long the three of them had known each other, and she'd never seen Ani take an order from anyone except Obi Wan before in her life. Puzzling over this, she followed the adults back up the hill and re-joined the strike team in the clearing where they'd been waiting.

Han and Chewie went and propped their backs against a tree, talking together in quiet, serious tones that made Shmi suddenly very leery of interrupting them. She had been in danger plenty of times before, both with Han and without him. She knew how to manage her fear, and she wasn't sorry that she had decided to join them on this mission—at least not in the sense that what they were trying to do frightened her. Yet none of the adults seemed to be acting the way they usually did toward her and Jareth. They weren't even acting the way they normally did toward one another. This whole journey had been unsettling, and for the first time, she began to realize that Han and Chewie might not really want her along. It was obvious to her that her parents didn't want her to be here, but they were her _parents_. It was their job to fret over her safety and try to protect her from things. Han and Chewie had always taken her with them into whatever trouble they were facing and showed her how to handle things the way that they did. Granted, they'd never _actually_ let her come this close to a battle against the Empire before. Except for the run-ins she'd had with Vader, all of which had been unintentional, the closest she'd ever been to the war were only been brief skirmishes that the _Falcon_ was caught in, or glimpses of shoot-outs before somebody scooped her up and ran in the other direction. She sighed and bit her lip. Maybe that was the problem.

A hand on her arm startled her out of her contemplations, and she turned toward Jareth in surprise. A pensive frown had settled over his usually bright and friendly features. Shmi shivered a little, realizing how much he looked like her father in one of his "Jedi" moods.

"Have you ever done this before?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Not like this. Have you?"

"Once," he sighed. "A long time ago on Ecarua 4. When my dad died. I was only little, though, so I don't know if it really counts."

"You never told me that," she said.

He shrugged. "You never asked."

"What happened?"

"There was a hill over our house," Jareth said. "Mom and I were coming home and we saw the white armor. I didn't know what stormtroopers were doing there until I saw them fighting with my father in the yard. I tried to run down to help them but my Mom wouldn't let go of me. He fought good—not as good as Master Ani, maybe, but good. There were just too many of them."

"That's why you didn't like Hardy," Shmi sighed, scrubbing her face with her hands.

Jareth nodded. "Then I figured maybe Hardy wasn't so bad. Isaly liked him. He helped us. I got used to him after that."

"How come you and your mom didn't leave after that?" Shmi asked curiously.

He shrugged.

"Did you ever tell this to my dad?" she asked.

"Nope."

"How come?"

"He never asked," Jareth shrugged again.

"Oh," Shmi nodded. "Well, maybe you should sometime."

"Not now," Jareth said. "He's too busy with Palps."

"Yeah," she agreed. "But sometime."

"Okay," he nodded. Then he ran his hand through his hair and looked off toward where Ani and Isaly were crouched beneath a tree. Ani had a stick in one hand and was drawing something on the ground with it while slapping at a bug on the back of his neck with the other. "Looks like maybe we should go talk to him anyways."

"Yeah," she nodded in agreement. "Come on, before something else happens." 


	229. Master And Apprentice

Still crouching on the ground beside Isaly, Ani heard Shmi and Jareth moving toward them. He didn't look up until the toes of their boots halted in front of the diagram he had been drawing. Both adults craned their necks to look up at the children, and Ani arched his right eyebrow.

"What's wrong, kids?" he asked.

Jareth stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled nervously from one foot to another. He ducked his head, staring at the ground for a while, and Ani waited without comment. He could sense unusual tumult in the boy's feelings, and he had a good idea what this was about, and since they didn't appear to going anywhere for the foreseeable future, he wasn't in a hurry. Furthermore, he thought that it would be better if the boy made his apology on his own terms. His daughter, however, was in a typically impatient and far less generous frame of mind.

She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, and when he looked up to glare at her, she jerked her chin in Ani's direction, whispering, "Now."

"What?" Jareth mouthed back at her.

_"Mm-polo-hize!_" she muttered through her closed lips.

"I am, just wait a minute," he grunted back at her.

"For what?" she hissed.

"For me to be ready," he sighed.

Shmi rolled her eyes skyward and let out a huff. In response, Ani bit down on the inside of his cheek and forced himself to keep a straight face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Isaly duck her head to hide a smile, but he didn't acknowledge it.

Jareth shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in a very adult-like gesture of exasperation. With great determination, Ani managed to keep a straight face. The boy then cleared his throat and looked up at him seriously.

"Master," he began, then paused again dramatically. "I wanted to say that I am sorry for not listening to you and sneaking onto the ship."

"Are you?" Ani asked.

"Am I what?" he blinked.  
"Sorry?" prompted Ani.

"Yes, sir," he nodded emphatically.

"Very well," Ani replied, inclining his head in acknowledgment of the apology. "You're forgiven."

"I'm sorry, too, Daddy," Shmi added reluctantly.

"All right," he said with the barest hint of a smile. Then, repositioning himself on the hard ground, he gestured for the pair to sit. When they had done so, he went on in a softer tone, "Look, I understand that you two want to help. You've spent your lives in the company of people who do nothing all day but help others. It's natural that you want to do your part, and we want you to be able to. But that means acting as part of a team. Teams have leaders for a reason. When you disobey your leader's instructions, you're jeopardizing not only yourselves but everyone else involved, including the people you're trying to help."

"We all have a part to play in this family," added Isaly. "No one is excluded, no matter how big or small they might be. You both know that."

"Yes, ma'am," they nodded in quiet unison.

"Well, sometimes the part we have to play is trusting someone else to know what's best," she went on, casting a significant glance in Han's direction. "Han is the leader right now. He might ask for our opinions, and he trusts us to understand our own jobs better than he does, but when he gives us an order, we don't run off and do whatever we please because we don't like what he's telling us."

The two children glanced uneasily at one another and then offered a slow nod.

"We understand, Isaly," Jareth said quietly.

"Good," Ani smiled. "Then we won't speak of this again.'

"Are…um…we still grounded?" Shmi asked hopefully.

"Oh yes. You're very grounded," Isaly replied.

She sighed. "Well, it was worth a try anyway."

Jareth smirked and drew his knees up to his chest, pressing his lips into them to stifle a snicker that he couldn't quite suppress. When he recovered a few moments later, he rocked forward and peered at the half-finished diagram in the dirt before his Master.

"What are drawing, Master Ani?" he asked curiously.

"I took a look around the farm while we were on Tatooine," explained Ani. "I was showing Isaly where I want to put in new vaporators and the areas that are going to need the most repair when we get back."

"Oh," Jareth nodded, frowning at the thought.

Shmi raised her eyebrows. "Are we going back to the farm after this, Daddy?"

"It's possible," Ani spread his hands. "We're not going to make any real plans right now. Your mother and I were just passing time."

She nodded slowly, her face taking on an expression similar to Jareth's. Apparently neither of them had given any thought to what might happen when the Empire fell, but he couldn't fault them for that. How many times had they been told to keep their focus on the present? Of course, that didn't mean that they should be taught to ignore all consideration of the future, but that was a difficult distinction to make, and perhaps he hadn't been as thorough in teaching them such things as he should have been.

"What would you two like to do when the war is over?" he asked them casually.

They eyed him thoughtfully, then glanced at one another and gave a joint shrug. Shmi answered first, which didn't surprise him. "I guess whatever Han says. Maybe he wants to go back to smuggling, but I don't think he'd take me."

"He probably would if you didn't have a home and family waiting for you," Isaly smiled fondly in the direction of their daughter's mentor.

"That's what I meant," she said.

"Is that what you really want?" Isaly asked. "To be a smuggler?"

"I want to be with Han and Chewie," she shrugged. "But I want to be with you and Daddy too."

"Well, I don't think that Han is going anywhere when the war ends, Little One. At least not by choice," Isaly assured her.

She responded with a weak nod, and Ani frowned, reaching out to brush her cheek with the tips of her fingers. "Do know that what happened on Cloud City was not your fault?"

"Yeah," she sighed heavily.

"Then what's the matter?" he persisted. He knew that her feelings for Han were very strong and that they were often confusing to her. She loved him, wanted to protect him from harm, and yet at the same time, he was the person that she thought of first when she was frightened or in need of security. She needed fiercely to be close to him now, but Ani had assumed that the reaction was simply a consequence of Vader's duplicity on Cloud City, the length of time that it had taken them to get him back, and the dangerous circumstances under which he had been returned to them. It seemed prudent to allow her some time to readjust; she was generally a resilient child, and he felt that in all likelihood, her fears would resolve themselves naturally, once she had gotten used to the idea that he _was_ back and that no one would be taking him away again.

However, her reaction now spoke of another, perhaps more deeply rooted problem which had escaped his attention. The fact that he had missed such a thing bothered him almost as much as the discovery of its existence. Qui-Gon had once warned him that his family would suffer for his quest to save Vader. Had he been right? If he hadn't been distracted with Anakin's needs and the difficulties of gaining his trust, would have been so oblivious to the obvious emotional distress of one of his children? He drew in a breath to clear his thoughts, realizing that the questions served little purpose now. What was done could not be changed, and he supposed that, at least he had been able to discern that there _was_ a problem before it metastasized into something far more dangerous.

"I just don't want everybody to be apart all the time like before," she told him. "I want us all to go back to the farm and stay there. Or somewhere else. It doesn't matter."

"Wouldn't you miss flying around in the _Falcon_ if we all did that?" Ani asked patiently.

She sighed. "I guess so. But it's better than everybody going here and there and all over the place, isn't it?"

"Maybe for a while, honey," Isaly nodded. "But I think we'd all start to feel a little bit caged in. That's what we're doing here, you know. All this fighting is so that people can go where they want, and live how they want. So they can have a say in the laws that govern them, and so that no one has to be afraid because there are just laws and people who will make sure that the law is followed."

"There are still bad people, Mom," Shmi shook her head. "Even if we get rid of Palpatine, there's still the Hutts and the Black Sun and all kinds of stuff. People just do what they want no matter what the law says."

"Well, that's what Palpatine wants everyone to think," Isaly said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"In the Empire, people are taught that their personal liberties have to be put aside so that they can be safe, and that Palpatine and his stormtroopers and soldiers are the only ones who can make them safe. But people didn't always live that way. The Galactic Republic wasn't perfect, but it stood for over a thousand generations. That's a very long time, and in all that time, we had liberty _ and_ laws that protected people, at least most of the time. And when laws didn't work, they could be changed, so that the people weren't hurt by them."

"Han said there were smugglers and Hutts and stuff in the Republic too," Shmi said.

"There were," Isaly nodded. "Wherever you have laws, there's always going to be someone out there who makes their living by breaking the laws. But you can't lock people all up or try to keep everybody in one place just to keep them safe. In the end, when you do that, they're not happy, and it doesn't work anyway."

"But I like it when everybody's together!" she insisted.

"So do I. I think we all do. But I think the reason we like is because it doesn't happen all the time. So we know how important those times when we're together really are, and we'll fight to protect each other so we can have more of those times. The problem is, honey, there's a difference between wanting to protect somebody because you love them and just wanting them with you because they belong to you. We can't make the people we love into possessions, and as much as we might like to, we can't always protect them. Or even save them. We can only live our own lives, choose our own paths, and do our bests for the ones who choose to walk with us. Sometimes that means protecting them, and sometimes it means trusting them to keep themselves safe—or trusting them to keep us safe. It's not easy, but it's better than putting everybody in prisons, or making prisons out of their lives."

"What about the ones who don't want to walk where we're going?" she asked.

Ani sighed softly. "Well. I guess we just try to love them back again."


	230. And Apprentice And Master

Conversation lagged after that as Shmi fell silent to mull over the things her parents had said. Ani glanced down at the diagram again, making a few small, random marks with the stick in his hand, apparently wanting to give her time to think things through for herself. She smiled a little at that. She wasn't sure what she thought about any of it; she'd have to see what Han and Chewie had to say about it later. She was glad, though, that her father was acting more like his usual self toward her and Jareth again.

A few minutes passed, and he looked up again, studying Jareth. Shmi turned to him as well and found that he was occupied with examining the needles on a small branch that had fallen nearby, and he didn't seem to notice the scrutiny. From what she remembered, the forest where he'd lived on Ecarua 4 had been mostly made up of shorter, more leafy trees than this. She didn't know what kind of plants and things had grown on Dagobah, but she guessed that he'd never seen trees like this before. The conifer needles fascinated him, and he kept running his finger back and forth over them, as if trying to figure out what they were.

She hadn't seen many trees at all, so these were no more or less unusual to her than any others. She vaguely remembered being fascinated by the ones on Yavin 4 after having spent her entire life on a desert world, but she had been young enough in the wake of the family's escape from Tatooine that her memories were fragmented—images and impressions of emotion with no real connection to one another. After Yavin 4, she had visited a fair number of planets with Han, but there hadn't been a lot of time for nature exploration, and they'd spent most of their time in spaceports and other urban areas. Except for those trips, her life had been spent on starships, where there was a decided lack of anything green and growing. Curious now, she craned her neck to look up into the tall, ancient natural spires, and was still absorbed in the network of branches and needles when her father spoke again.

"What about you, Jareth? What do you want to do when the war is over?" he asked.

Startled, Shmi bent her head again, then looked back at him, suddenly realizing that she had never asked him that question before. For the first time, it occurred to her that he might not stay with the Kenobis either. Ani was his teacher, but he also had a mother somewhere out there, and Shmi knew that he missed her very much. She didn't know how Jedi training was supposed to work when the master and the apprentice weren't related. The only Jedi she'd ever met were people from her own family.

"Huh?" he blinked, apparently as surprised by the question as Shmi had been. "Me, Master?"

"Yes," Ani prompted.

"I dunno," he shrugged.

"Well, think about it," instructed Ani. "Do you want to go back to Ecarua 4? Or come to Tatooine with me and Isaly?"

"You're my Master," he frowned. "Don't I have to go where you go?"

"Not if you don't want to live with me," Ani replied with a flicker of a smile. "I'll still be your Master, Jareth, even if you want to go home for a while and come back to your Jedi training when you're older."

"I want to see my mom," he admitted thoughtfully. "Can we visit her?"

"Absolutely," Ani nodded with an intensity that startled the children. "Your mother will always have a place in your life, and you're free to see her whenever you choose. Understand."

"Yes, Master," Jareth nodded, slightly confused.

Isaly laid a hand lightly on her husband's arm. "It bothers us that the war tends to keep families apart this way. It shouldn't be like that. Especially mothers and children."

"Well, as long as I can see my mom whenever I want, then I want to go where Ani goes," Jareth said.

"That sounds good to me," Ani smiled.

"What about me?" Shmi frowned at them.

"What about you?" Jareth asked, giving her a confused look.

"Don't you wanna go where I go?"

"No."

"Then why do you do everything with me all the time?!" she demanded, giving his arm a not-quite-playful punch.

"I don't know!"

Before Shmi could stop sputtering and come up with a decent response, Threepio called out a warning.

"Oh! General Solo! Someone's coming! Oh!"

The children both jumped to their feet, while the adults in the squad around them all raised their blasters, moving closer to the trees. Shmi and Jareth instinctively closed the distance between themselves and Isaly, and she gestured for them to get behind her. Ani, however, shook his head.  
"It's just Luke," he said as a helmeted figure came through the brush.

"Luke!" Han pushed himself away from the tree where he had been leaning.

Luke jogged up to him, out of breath, and Han looked around in confusion. Ani frowned as well, and Shmi's relief rapidly turned into a familiar gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Someone was missing again.

"Where's Leia?" Han asked.

"What?" Luke frowned. "She didn't come back?"

"I thought she was with you," Han said tensely.

"Well, we got separated," Luke replied with obvious concern.

Shmi swallowed hard as Han, Isaly, and the two brothers exchanged grim looks. Nervously, she edged closer to Han, slipping her arms around his waist. He ran a hand lightly over her hair in an unconscious gesture of comfort.

"Hey, we'd better go look for her," Luke suggested.

Han quickly nodded in agreement. "Ani, take the squad on ahead. We'll meet at the shield generator at 0300."

"All right," Ani nodded, gesturing for the rest of the men to mobilize. "Shmi?"

"I want to go with Han," she told him, still attached to her Master's side.

"It's okay, kid, come on," Han said, hurriedly squatting so that she could reach his shoulders. "Climb on, we gotta move."

"Be careful," Isaly cautioned.

"Remember what your mother told you," Ani added as the two groups parted ways.

Although he couldn't see her, she nodded against Han's shoulder.

"Come on, Artoo, Nobby," Luke called to the droids, "We're going to need your scanners."

* * *

The sight of the speeder bike's charred wreckage in the grass sent a chill through Han. He spun around, peering through the woods in the direction that he'd last seen Luke. "Luke! Luke!"

A few seconds later, Leia's brother came jogging up to him with a discarded helmet in his hands. Shmi sprang down from a stump on which she had been standing and bounded over to them with a frightened look. Instinctively, he moved his arm around her again.

"There's two more wrecked speeder bikes back there," Luke said, tossing him the helmet. "And I found this.

"Do you sense anything?" Han asked, unable to believe that he was even _asking_ the kid to use his fancy Force hocus pocus.

"No," Luke said gravely. "Not around here. There's been a lot of activity lately, though, so I can't be sure."

"You'd know if anything really bad happened to Aunt Leia, wouldn't you, Uncle?" Shmi asked in alarm.

"Yeah, Little One," he nodded, but the tight expression on his face did little to ease Han's worries.

"Well, I hope she's all right," he said awkwardly. Abruptly, Chewie let out a growl, sniffed the air, then pushed off through the foliage. Han started out after him, yelling as he went. "What, Chewie? What? Chewie!"

Pushing his way through the undergrowth, Han eventually found his friend standing next to a huge wooden stake with some kind of dead animal stuck to it. He guessed that Chewie had smelled something and come this way fearing that it was Leia. Well, he was definitely glad it wasn't her, but he still couldn't fathom why there was some dead thing stuck to a big wooden pole in the middle of the woods.

"Hey, I don't get it," he remarked as the others caught up with him. Then he added, "Nah, it's just a dead animal, Chewie."

Chewie, however, had more than one kind of interest in the dead animal. Unable to resist the temptation of such a large hunk of meat just waiting there for him, he reached a hand toward it. Luke yelled out a warning, but by then he'd already pulled the thing off of the stake.

There was a huge _SPRONG_ and a whoosh of air as they were all pulled upward. Shmi shrieked, and as the world spun around, Han tried desperately to get his bearings. After a second or two, he grasped that they were all hanging upside down in some kind of giant net that had been hidden under the fallen leaves and brush.

"Nice work! Great, Chewie! Just great! Always thinking with your stomach!" he shot at the Wookiee.

"Will you take it easy? Let's just try to figure a way out of this thing. Han, can you reach my lightsaber?" Luke called out.

"Yeah sure," Han replied. He flexed his arm and wriggled a bit, straining toward the weapon. Before he got it, though, there was familiar buzzing noise below him.

"Artoo, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Threepio said worriedly. "It's a very long droooooop…!"

Han sailed toward the ground again, breath rushing from his lungs. The impact stunned him, and he had to lay there for a second before his body would allow him to sit up again. When he finally did, he came to the startling realization that there was a spear pointing in his face. Worse, the thing pointing it looked like a toy he might have given Obi-Too. What was this, a nightmare? Some kind of delayed hibernation sickness reaction?

"Wha--? Hey! Point that thing someplace else!" he exclaimed.

He pushed the spear away angrily, and another of the little weirdos waddled up and started to argue with the one pointing it at him. As they bickered, the spear came right back into his face, and this time he made a grab for it, reaching around for his blaster with the other hand.

"Hey!"

"Han, don't. It'll be all right," Luke told him.

"Uncle Luke, are you sure about this?" Shmi asked as the furry freaks swarmed over them and confiscated their weapons. Luke let them take his lightsaber without protest, so Han reluctantly surrendered his blaster. Shmi followed suit, but Chewie wasn't about to give up his bowcaster.

"Don't worry, Little One," Luke told her calmly. "Let 'em have your crossbow, Chewie."

"Oh, my head," Threepio moaned, drawing the little guys' attention away. "Oh, my goodness!"

When the furballs got a look at Threepio, they let out a collective gasp and all started to chatter among themselves. Threepio took a few seconds to process, then started to talk to them in whatever language that they were speaking. The one nearest to him suddenly dropped the spear it was holding and prostrated itself before the droid. In another moment, all of them had done the same thing. As the rest of the group looked on in confused wonder, the creatures began to chant at Threepio as if he was some kind of…no…  
"Do you understand anything they're saying?" Luke asked the droid.  
"Oh, yes, Master Luke! Remember that I am fluent in over six million forms of communication—"

"What are you telling them?" demanded Han.

"Hello, I think... I could be mistaken. They're using a very primitive dialect. But I do believe they think I am some sort of god," the droid replied.

Han suppressed a groan. "Well, why don't you use your divine influence to get us out of this?"

"I beg your pardon, General Solo, but that just wouldn't be proper," replied goldenrod at his most equitable and annoying.

"Proper?!" Han exclaimed.

"It's against my programming to impersonate a deity," declared Threepio, moving from equitable to offended.

"Why you—" began Han, but he quickly found himself being restrained by the points of several more spears.

"Han…?" asked Shmi timidly.

Forcing a smile, he raised his hands and took a step back. "My mistake. He's an old friend of mine. What, kid?"

"Is this a bad time to mention I'm sorry I didn't listen to you about staying home with Grandpa?"


	231. Unfolding

With the silent intensity of a brewing storm, Darth Vader swept down the corridor to the Emperor's Tower. At the private elevator, two guards stepped into the Dark Lord's path. At another time, Vader might have been more tolerant. After all, the men were charged with obeying the Emperor's commands. Now, however, with the Kenobis on Endor, he was not in the mood to be challenged or trifled with.

"Halt! The Emperor does not wish to be disturbed at the moment," the one on the right ordered.

Pausing only briefly, he raised his gloved hand and flexed his fingers, lifting both of them off the ground with a thought. Casually, he tightened his grip, exerting pressure on their windpipes until the airways had almost closed, allowing them just enough breath to be able to speak. Then he simply held them there, giving them time for his point to sink in before he reached deeper to bend their will with his own.

"The Emperor will see me now," Vader corrected.

"The Emperor will see you now," the guard echoed.

He dropped the pair and casually stepped over them, boarding the lift. The rasp of his breather filled the small space as her rode, and though he tried to ignore it, the sound grated against his consciousness, an amplified reminder of the prison in which he walked and the betrayals he had suffered both at the hands of Palpatine and the man whose children waited below on Endor. He wanted both of them to suffer for those wrongdoings, and he focused intently on that desire, feeding his anger with it to block out the heavy weight of the hidden Jedi weapons he carried.

The car stopped in the Emperor's throne room, and he stepped out again, moving with an even pace and slow, deliberate steps toward the profiled figure on the dais. Palpatine sat utterly still, only one arm and the hood of his cloak visible as Vader's echoing footsteps approached him. The Dark Lord stopped at the foot of the stairs, waiting silently for acknowledgment.

"I told you to remain on the command ship," the Emperor hissed.

"A small Rebel force has penetrated the shield and landed on Endor," Vader informed him.

"Yes, I know," replied Palpatine without surprise. "Princess Leia will be dealt with. You will bring her brother to me."

Vader paused for a beat, probing the Force before he responded. It was more than possible that the Emperor had failed to mention Anakin's presence on purpose. He had suspicions about Vader's loyalties where the youth was concerned. He had no sense of this kind of deception at the moment, but he decided that it was better not to raise unnecessary questions. The notion that the Princess would be "dealt with" in some way that he was not being made privy to raised his own suspicions in a rather specific direction. It was a direction—and an individual—for whom he had a definite dislike, but he also knew better than to demand an explanation of the Emperor. He find out for himself, as soon as his Master's feelers were not so actively trained on him.

"Kenobi's older son is with them," he said.

"Are you _sure…?_" the Emperor asked.

"I have felt him, my Master," the Dark Lord said.

"Strange, that I have not. I wonder if your feelings on this matter are clear, Lord Vader," Palpatine remarked with calculating coolness."

"They are clear, my Master," Vader said firmly.

"Then you must go to the Sanctuary Moon and wait for him," instructed Palpatine.

"He will come to me?" Vader asked, not bothering to conceal his skepticism. After their last encounter, he would have expected the young Jedi to approach him willingly again.

"I have foreseen it. His compassion for you will be his undoing. He will come to you and then you will bring him—and his brother—before me," Darth Sidious commanded.

Vader replied with a bow, but internally he sneered. If his Master truly wanted the Kenobi brothers, Vader would arrange it. Whether or not the Emperor truly understood what he was asking for was another matter.

"As you wish," he said.

* * *

Leia ducked out of the hut, stopping short at the sight of Han, Shmi, Chewie, and her brother all hanging from large roasting poles over the Ewoks' central firepit. Artoo and Nobby were both being restrained and pulled along with some sort of harness contraptions that the hunting party had constructed with woven vines. Threepio, however, was riding in a liter that looked uncomfortably like a throne.

"Leia!" Han cried as she rushed toward them.

"Aunt Leia!"

"Your royal highness!" added Threepio, sounding immensely relieved. Then, several members of the hunting party moved to cut her off, brandishing their spears in a show of warning.

"Oh!" she gasped, as Chewie, Nobby, and Artoo all chimed in with greetings of their own. "But these are my friends—my _family_! Threepio, tell them they must be set free."

Threepio began conversing with the Ewoks, but it was quickly apparent that his efforts were not well received. The one whom Leia had determined was in some role of authority over the village gestured to the others, gave them a series of orders, and more wood was piled into the pit.

"Somehow, I don't think that helped us very much," Han remarked caustically.

"Threepio, tell them if they don't do as you wish, you'll become angry and use your magic," Luke instructed the droid.

"But Master Luke, what magic? I couldn't possibly—" the hapless droid protested.

"Just tell them," Luke interrupted. Leia smiled a little, having a good idea what her twin had in mind.

Threepio did as he was told, but the Ewoks didn't appear to be impressed. The leader stepped forward brazenly, speaking to the droid with a tone and posture that clearly communicated challenge. Poor Threepio, who as usual had very little understanding of what was going on, quailed under the confrontational stance of their furry host.

"You see, Master Luke; they didn't believe me. Just..." he began, at first utterly unaware that his litter was rising off the ground. "... as I said they wouldn't. Wha-wha-what's happening! Oh! Oh, dear! Oh!"

The Ewoks fall back in terror. The floating throne then began to spin around as if Threepio were on a revolving stool. Threepio cried out in total panic.

"Put me down! He-e-elp! Master Luke! Artoo! Somebody, somebody, help! Master Luke, Artoo! Artoo, quickly! Do something, somebody! Oh! Ohhh!"

After a few seconds of this, the Ewoks were thoroughly convinced of Threepio's great magical powers and ran to free the prisoners. Han and Leia immediately sprang toward each other, and she threw her arms around his scruffy neck, overjoyed. Grinning, he lifted her off the ground and spun her enthusiastically in his arms, planting a kiss on her lips that told her all she needed to know about what he'd feared the most since losing track of her in the woods.

Meanwhile, Shmi raced over to help get Nobby loose, since the firey little astromech wanted nothing to do with the Ewoks. Any time one of them got close to her, she turned on her vacuum attachment and started to suck up its fur until it ran away in a panic. Artoo was having a similarly good time chasing them around with his welding torch, but after the treatment they'd all received, Leia didn't have the heart to make the droids stop. Luke finally allowed poor Threepio back to the ground and he sighed with relief.

"Oh, oh, oh! Thank goodness!"

"Thanks, Threepio," Luke smiled.

"I never knew I had it in me," the droid replied.

* * *

Luke watched with a smile as Threepio regaled the Ewoks with tales of the family's adventures since the first Death Star. They were attending a tribal council in Chief Chirpa's hut, and a glowing fire dances in the center of the spartan, low-ceilinged room, creating a kaleidoscope of shadows on the walls. Along one side, a group of ten Ewok elders flanked their chief, who presided over the event from his throne. The Kenobis all sat along the remaining walls of the hut, with Threepio between the two groups and Wicket and Teebo off to one side. Shmi was reclining between Luke's knees with her head on his chest, more than half asleep.

He reached down to brush his fingers against her hair, and she turned, blinking up at him. He smiled back, then returned his attention to the droid, who was in the middle of a long story that he could only follow by virtue of the names which had no direct translation in the Ewoks' language. Shmi nestled closer, and his smile shifted, growing sad. He had already sensed Vader waiting for them, and he knew that Ani would have felt it before he did. He couldn't wait much longer, but given his niece's habit of chasing after the grown-ups when she thought they needed protection, he wanted her to be soundly asleep before he left. She would probably be upset about it later but—

Suddenly, the sound of the Ewoks' drums broke the relative peace of the moment. They all stood and began to cheer, punctuating their happy cries with hoots and screeches. Luke's eyes widened, and Shmi scrambled upright against him, peering about in sleepy-eyed confusion.

_Well, so much for that idea,_ he sighed inwardly.

"What's going on, Uncle?" she asked.

"I don't know…" he admitted, looking at Threepio for an explanation.

"Wonderful!" Threepio exclaimed. "We are now part of the tribe!"

"Just what I always wanted," Han remarked.

Chewie voiced a similar sentiment as one of the Ewoks wrapped its arms around him in a warm embrace.

"Hey, well, short help is better than no help, Chewie," chuckled Han, who suddenly had Wicket attached to his leg.

In the commotion, Luke wrapped his arms around Shmi, guiding her to her feet as he stood up. She frowned at him, and he lifted his finger to his lips for silence, then slipped both hands onto her shoulders and guided her outside with him. She followed him out onto the walkway without question, and looked around at the sleepy village with its soft, flickering fires and homey little dwellings. She still wasn't entirely comfortable with the Ewoks, and he couldn't blame her after having been tied up and slung over their roasting pit, but the warmth of the place and the natural beauty of Endor's forest was beginning to ease her mistrust.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Luke looked down at her silently for a few moments, then sighed and dropped to one knee on the wooden planks. He cupped her face in his hands, looking deeply into the dark eyes that already reminded him so much of his mother and sister. Then he let his hands drift onto her shoulders and gripped them tightly.

"I have to go. You need to stay here with Aunt Leia and Han. You can't try to follow me," he told her in a tone more firm than any he had ever used with her before.

"Go where?" she asked warily.

"Vader is here. He's going to take me to the Emperor. On the Death Star."

"No, Uncle Luke! You can't go alone!" she cried, eyes wide with tears.

"I won't be alone. Your father is already on his way to where Vader's ship is waiting for us," he said.

"It's not right," she shook her head. "You two can't go off by yourselves like this!"

"Go where?" Leia's voice sounded from the other side of the bridge.

"You know already," Luke replied, looking up at his sister.

"By yourself?" she crossed her arms and came toward him, her head already moving in a negative shake.

"No. Ani is coming. Mara Jade will be here tomorrow. Be careful, Sis."

"I'm not letting you two face the Emperor alone!" Leia insisted. "We have to do this together. All of us. Or we'll fail."

"We are doing it together, Sis," Luke replied softly. "Han won't be able to stop Mara Jade without you down here. And Ani won't be able to stop the Emperor and save Uncle Anakin without me up there. We're all fighting the same fight. We're all working for the same thing. We won't fail—we can't—as long as we're all…together," he finished, after a moment's pause. He stood up slowly, and lifted Shmi into his arms as Han appeared.

"What's going on?" he frowned, coming up to them with a guarded expression.

Luke smiled and shifted Shmi into his arms. His frown deepened, but he instinctively took the girl, moving to comfort her when she hid her face against his shoulder. 


	232. Dark Chest Of Wonders

Ani watched as the Imperial shuttle floated to a graceful landing on the immense platform at the center of the large clearing. A walker approached from the darkness of the forest on the other side, moving toward the outpost. Surveying the scene, he was struck by the utter offensiveness of the Empire and its intrusive technology in a place so pristine and untouched. They were an open sore in the center of the forest, and at the heart of that sore stood a man who had once moved with a deep affinity for the Living Force. Anakin Skywalker would have recognized the ugliness of this outpost and the implications it held for the galaxy. Sighing, he hoped that Darth Vader still did.

A rustle of leaves behind him signaled his brother's arrival. He didn't turn, simply waited for Luke to move up beside him. Luke slipped a hand onto his shoulder.

"Shmi and Leia all right?" he asked softly.

"No," Luke shook his head. "Jareth and Isaly?"

"No," replied Ani.

"You ready?" Luke asked.

"I wish Dad was here," Ani sighed. In the back of his mind, he could hear his own half-crazed words from a long ago vision.

_I am the Jedi Order. And the Republic._

Isaly's terrified expression swam up out of his subconscious and danced before his eyes in the darkness.

_You destroyed everything he was…  
If you're not with me, you're my enemy!  
Now I'm going to destroy you!  
_  
His sons…the last hope of the Jedi Order…his only daughter twisted into something darker and more deadly than even the man who waited for them on that landing platform. He fought a shiver and drew in a slow, calming breath, banishing the images from his thoughts.

"Dad is here," Luke said quietly.

Ani turned to look at him then, raising his eyebrows. Luke shifted positions, tilting his head in a silent question. Slowly, the older brother smiled.

"Listen," he said. "Luke, if I don't come back with you. If anything goes wrong. I need you to look after my kids. Jareth. Make sure no one can find them. Finish Jareth's training. See to Shmi and the boys—make sure no one can find them."

"I will, Anakin," Luke said gravely. The air between them lay heavily and crackling with the unspoken elements of that promise, of what it might mean for them and their futures. "But whatever happens from here, whatever changes, you and I are still brothers."

"Always," Ani agreed. "Let's go."

* * *

"I don't like using the Force on them that way," Obi Wan said with a troubled sigh as he walked out of his grandsons' room.

"We'd have never gotten them to sleep otherwise," Padme reminded him. "You told them what you were doing, and they trust you."

"I know," he nodded.

She and Bail were seated together on the couch, with Hardy occupying a chair on the other side of the low table in the center of their living room. Obi Wan slipped into one of the remaining chairs, shifting it a little so that he could reach Padme's hand. He had expected Yoda to take the last chair, but so far his old teacher hadn't finished his meditation.

Padme reached out unconsciously to run her fingers over his sleeve. "Do you have any sense of what might be bothering Shmi?"

He pursed his lips, pressing his fingers against them in thought. "I know she doesn't want to lose track of Han again. She's always a bit uneasy with the way that we're all…scattered all the time because of the war. Having him back has probably just brought those feelings to a head for her. Reunion reinforces the sense that something is wrong with separation."

"Do you think she'll be all right?" Bail asked. "I know that the boys are very sensitive to emotion, but I don't think I've ever heard them voice concern for someone like this."

"Well," Obi Wan began pensively. "The boys' feelings certainly shouldn't be dismissed, but the tension and anxiety that we all feel right now makes it difficult to have a clear sense of anything in the Force. They're all young children, and not trained to search and use their feelings in the way that the Jedi are. When they feel that something is troubling someone, they react, and now they're becoming old enough that they can articulate some of those things, especially in light of the work that Rei's been doing with them."

"I think Ani and Isaly are going to have to start taking a stronger hand with her," Hardy spoke up, pressing his folded hands against his lips.

"Oh?" Obi Wan asked. In general, he didn't advocate stern disciplinary tactics, especially with young children. He felt that, at times, he had been too strict with Anakin—too demanding and too hard on him. With Ani and the twins, he had tried to act in the opposite manner whenever possible, and he found that all three had responded much more positively on the occasions when exertion of authority was necessary. It was also somewhat difficult, as these children's grandfather, for him to view their behavior through the lens of a disciplinarian. Hardy had spent a great deal of time with Shmi and Jareth, however, and Obi Wan didn't think that his opinion was simply based on his own experiences with harsh punishment.

"She and Jareth don't act or think like young children in a lot of ways. I've seen it before with…people whose homes have gotten caught in the war," he said, then hesitated.

Obi Wan nodded for him to continue. It was painfully obvious to him what the young man wasn't saying, but he wouldn't press for specifics. He had seen enough of the sort of thing that Hardy was referring to in the Clone Wars that he knew better than to point fingers at the Empire. When war came to a planet, the local civilians often paid a heavy price, and both sides bore the blame for their troubles.

"Shmi's had free reign. Running all over the galaxy with General Solo and then helping Lando and Leia look for him. I'm not saying it's bad that she had General Solo teaching her to get along in the galaxy. It's a rough place for a kid. Rough place for anybody, really, and it's better she had somebody around to show her how to take care of herself. And it's right that she helped get him back. But she's used to going where she wants. Don't what she wants. And she _thinks_ she's a lot older than she actually is. She thinks she can take care of herself. Jareth, it's the same thing in a way. You all think of him as one of you. Part of this big Kenobi society of yours. It's not a family anymore, it's a movement. But he has a family somewhere, and that means that _part_ of him is still separate, so at least some of the time, he thinks of himself as someone who's been fending for himself since he met up with Shmi and Padme. If Ani and Isaly can't set them straight about it, one of these times, we won't get there in time to save them."

Obi Wan blew out a slow breath. "As much as I don't like the idea, Hardy, you may have a point."

"Rei may be able to help. Once we get them back here anyway," Padme suggested.

Bail let out a quiet chuckle. "That woman is going to earn her own Kenobi medal soon, isn't she?"

"It's entirely possi…what's wrong?" Padme's hand tightened on Obi Wan's as a chill passed through him.

"It's begun," he said softly.

* * *

  
Darth Vader clanked down his shuttle's boarding ramp and onto the Imperial landing platform. He could sense the presence of the brothers nearby, but he felt no eagerness for the coming confrontation. Voices whispered in the back of his mind, acrid smells—smoke, sulfer, burning flesh—filled his nostrils.

_Be wary of Palpatine. Be careful of your feelings._

Obi Wan had been right. But Obi Wan had left him. Cut off his legs and arm and left him to burn. Turned his back and walked away. He was a traitor.

_Anakin. Whatever our differences, you know that I am your friend._

No. He was no friend. No more a friend than Palpatine. He had lied, just as the Emperor had lied. He had left—left when Anakin had needed him most.

_Anakin is dead._

_It's my name._

_It is not mine._

_I've always been honored to carry it._

_Your focus determines your reality._

_Will I see you again?_

_Anakin is DEAD!_

He swept across the platform, halting at the lift door, where he pressed the button and stood angrily to wait. His breath came faster, the breather's rasp picking up its pace and becoming harsher. He drew on the Force, battling the sounds, the smells, the remembered agony, but the rush of current which should have brought the raging clarity of focus that came from the Dark Side only plunged him deeper into a past that was long dead.

_The elevator's not working._

_Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!_

_From my point of view the Jedi are evil!_

Evil. What was evil? Pain was evil. Death was evil. And yet he longed for death now. Death would have been a mercy. Obi Wan Kenobi had denied him that mercy.

_You were my brother, Anakin! I loved you!_

_Vader stood again on the balcony outside Padme's apartment on Coruscant. Ani and Padme raced out to him from the living room and the boy flung his arms around his namesake. As always, he felt the tension in his heart ease when Obi Wan's young son was close to him. He asked so little, gave his devotion freely, and with him, Anakin never felt the desperate, panicked need to secure a place for himself. With Ani, his place had always been certain._

"I knew you'd come!" Ani exclaimed, flinging his arms around his namesake. Peering up at him, he went on, "We heard they put you on the Council, too, Uncle…"

Vader felt again the embarrassment that he had endured in that moment. He heard himself speaking the remembered words. He hated the sound of Anakin's voice. He hated his own shame. He hated the Jedi and the Chancellor and all of them!

"It's nothing to be proud of. This is just political maneuvering between the Council and the Chancellor. I got caught in the middle, that's all."

Ani was undeterred. He gave his uncle a frown that was at once stubborn, determined and hopeful. "But you're still the youngest Jedi ever on the Council!"

"They put me on the Council because they had to, Ani. Because Palpatine told them to, once the Senate gave him control of the Jedi," Anakin's voice became a growl of frustration. "And because they think they can use me against him. They'll give me a chair in the Council Chamber, but that's as far as it will go. They won't accept me as a Master, and yet they want me to do their dirty work with Palpatine."

"Dad tried to talk them out of it," Ani bit his lip, pressing his forehead against Anakin's stomach in a reassuring hug. He'll try again when he comes home, too. He said so."

Vader despised the warm that had spread through Anakin Skywalker when he heard those words. As surprised as he was, he was also relieved, glad to know that he hadn't permanently lost Obi Wan's good will with the outburst of the previous night. He felt Anakin's hand moved tentatively to touch the back of Ani's head, as he looked toward Padme for confirmation.

She nodded. "Obi Wan never wanted you to be put in this position, Anakin. And he does recognize your abilities. In time, the Council will too. But right now—"

Anakin sighed heavily, pulling away from Ani. He stalked over to the balcony and ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and he descended into the bitterness that Vader knew so well. "They already recognize my abilities. They fear_ my abilities. But this isn't even about that. Like I said: it's a political game."_

"Anakin—"

"I don't know what's happening to the Order, but whatever it is, I don't like it," he went on, and she realized that he wasn't hearing her at all. "This war is destroying everything the Republic is supposed to stand for. I mean, what are we fighting for, anyway? What about all this is worth saving?"

"This is," Padme said, reaching for his hand. "Friendship. A little boy's love. Anakin, please. There might still be enough time…"

The lift door opened, and the Dark Lord stalked out, ignoring the stormtrooper guards as he swept through the narrow connecting corridor between it and the landing platform's lower level. There, he waited for the door to slide closed and paused, trying again to force the memories back beneath the ice that kept them at bay.

_You're going to need me on this one, Obi Wan…_

_This is not walking._

_It's a bad idea to split up the team. Look at what happened last time._

_This is not breathing._

_I love you. It'll be up to you to keep your Uncle Anakin out of trouble this time._

_This is not living._

_I will, Dad._

_Anakin is dead!_

_Many things may change before this night is over, Ani. My caring for you will not be one of them._

_That name no longer has any meaning for me._

_My sons' names are Obi-Wan and Anakin._

_Your compassion for Anakin Skywalker will be your undoing._

_The greatness in you is a greatness of spirit. Courage and generosity, compassion and commitment. These are your virtues. You have done great things, and I am very proud of you._

_If it has to be._


	233. Ever Dream

The door slid open, bringing Luke and Ani face to face with the Dark Lord. Vader's feelings were already a churning sea of conflict. Ani steadied himself in the Force, anchoring himself on Luke to avoid becoming caught up in the tossing currents of rage and regret. The stinging spray of self-loathing still buffeted him, along with the bleak and howling wind of despair, but somewhere in there, he could still feel the faintest warm glimmer of the loyalty and devotion that had sent Anakin Skywalker, time and again, to Obi Wan Kenobi's rescue.

He could also sense rising concern from his brother, which he acknowledged with a faint upturning of the left corner of his mouth and a wash of empathic reassurance. The three warriors faced off silently for another beat. Vader used silence as a tool of intimidation, and although he didn't expect it to work against Ani, he had mistakenly believed that Luke, at least, could be manipulated in this manner. In a flash of insight, Ani saw the Dark Lord's gambit—to trade on Luke's memory of a perceived failure on Cloud City in order to separate the brothers. He almost smiled, knowing that Luke had reached the same conclusion. The tactic was both misguided and doomed to failure; Luke had not defeated Vader in combat on Cloud City, but the test that the Force had been orchestrating for him hadn't been one of lightsaber skill or, as Han would have called it, Jedi hocus pocus. He understood that now, unlike Vader, who had never really been able to grasp the intricacies of the Force in this manner.

"These are Rebels who surrendered to us," their Imperial escort informed Vader. "Although they deny it, I believe there may be more of them, and I request permission to conduct a further search of the area."

He took a step toward Vader and presented him with the hilts of the Kenobis' weapons. Vader hardly glanced at Ani's lightstaff, but he spent a moment studying Luke's saber before his gaze returned to the Imperial Commander, who was reaching into his pocket. He removed the holocube that Ani had brought with him, holding it out to Vader with a touch of confusion.

"They were armed only with those, but one of them was also carrying this. He warned me to be careful with it and said that it belonged to you, my Lord," he explained.

Without replying, Vader turned and set the lightstaff on the wooden railing that bordered the walkway on which they were standing. Then he took the 'cube and cast a long look at Ani before he replied. Ani sensed the stormtrooper guards and their commander becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and he almost expected the troopers to start squirming. He suppressed a smile at the mental image; his friendship with Hardy had irrevocably humanized those faceless, white-armored men for him, but he well knew that this wasn't the time for levity.

"Good work, Commander," Vader said finally, breaking the tense silence. "Leave us. Conduct your search and bring his companions to me."

"Yes, my Lord," the man said with obvious relief.

Vader waited for them to withdraw, then turned again, his cloak swirling behind him as he moved toward the sealed door at the other end of the walkway. Ani and Luke fell into step with him and maintained the silence, waiting for him to initiate conversation.

"The Emperor has been expecting you," he said.

"We know, Uncle Anakin," Ani replied.

"I have told you before. That name no longer has any meaning for me," Vader said, raising a finger at him in warning.

Ani nodded. "And I told you. We don't believe that."

"It's the name of your true self, Uncle, you've only forgotten," Luke added.

"You," Vader answered, his feelings suddenly rancid with scorn, "You know nothing of truth. You know only what Obi Wan and your brother wish you to know."

Luke accepted the insult with a placid expression. Ani felt Vader's words strike his brother, stinging like nettles, but then roll off again as Luke let them fall away. He understood this game now too, recognized it for what it was. Without replying, he reached out and activated the holocube in Vader's hand.

Vader followed the motion of Luke's hand, turning his head to watch. Then he jerked his head back again, staring furiously at the brothers as if Luke had struck him. The restored image of Anakin and Obi Wan posing with their arms around one another's shoulders floated above the device.

"My nephew fixed that," Luke told him. "My nephew Anakin. I know a few things about that name and the people it belongs to."

Ani pressed in before Vader had a chance to repair his defensive wall of bitterness and betrayal. "Listen to me, Uncle. This may be our last chance. There was a reason you spared me during the siege. The same reason you saved my daughter on Mustafar. If you turn us over to the Emperor now, all of that will be for nothing. Is that what you want? Palpatine will go after my children. They're younger now than you were when you met him. How much more damage will he do to them than he was able to do to you? You can't allow that. Your honor won't let you."

"I…" Vader hesitated. Ani sensed protective feelings stirring, evoked by his mention of the temple siege and the guilt over the slaughter there that Vader couldn't quite expunge from his psyche. He wanted to say that he would protect the children from Sidious, but he couldn't do so without a tacit admission that Luke and Ani were correct.  
"I know there is still good in you. The Emperor hasn't driven from you fully. That is why you couldn't destroy us. That's why you won't bring us to your Emperor now," Luke added.

Vader looked away from him, focusing his attention on the lightsaber in his black gloved hand. He drifted away and set the holocube down beside Ani's lightstaff. Sensing that another push would be dangerous, Ani remained still, saying nothing. Luke glanced at him, and he flicked his gaze to the other side of the causeway. His brother moved toward it, ducking his head as if caught up in his own thoughts, and rested his bound hands on the beam of the guardrail.

"I see you have constructed a new lightsaber," Vader remarked, directing the statement to Luke. Ani watched as he ignited the weapon, holding the brilliant blade at his brother's back. Luke tensed, almost turning, but ultimately restrained the urge. Ani slowly drew in a breath and let it out again, forcing himself to wait and watch. Tension had to build before a fulcrum could shift the momentum of this confrontation, and for now it was still moving in the wrong direction. They listened to the soft, familiar hum of the lightsaber and the colder rhythm of Vader's breather, no one moving until the Dark Lord spoke again.

"Your skills are complete," he said, moving forward again, closer to the door, his back to both brothers. "And your brother needs only to face one final trial before his destiny is met. Indeed you are powerful, as the Emperor has foreseen."

Luke and Vader both turned as he finished the statement, coming face to face with one another, where they stood silently staring. Ani was struck by how alike the two of them were, both in their emotional make-up and in the way that they viewed the galaxy and people they loved—or at least, how Anakin Skywalker once had. As he watched them, he understood why his father had always been so adamant that Luke should carry Anakin's lightsaber. Luke had grown beyond Anakin now, though. He had become what their father knew he had the potential to be—the kind of Jedi that Anakin might have been if Palpatine had not been allowed to twist and manipulate his psyche. There was both recrimination and faith in the expression he leveled at Vader now.

"My father taught us that our greatest strength is one another," he said.

"Your father never knew the true power of the Force," countered Vader. "He feared it, as did all of the Jedi."

"I'm not talking about the power of the Force, Uncle Anakin, and you well know it," Luke challenged. "The Emperor does fear Ani and I, but not just for our powers."

"Help me destroy him," Vader enticed.

Luke shook his head firmly. "Not like that. Come with us. We can all leave this place."

"Obi Wan once thought as you do," Vader sneered.

"So did Anakin Skywalker," Luke parried easily. He took a step closer.

Ani sensed that Vader wanted to withdraw, but he wouldn't allow himself such a show of weakness. He held his ground. "You don't know the power of the Dark Side. I _must_ obey my Master."

"You've defied him before," Luke pointed out.

"I will not protect you this time," Vader vowed.

Ani caught flashes of flame and the stench of sulfur from Vader's memory. Some were familiar to him; others were new, punishment for his failure to bring in the brothers after their encounter at Cloud City. It took all of his training and discipline to remain still.

"My brother and I will not turn," Luke promised in return. "You'll be forced to kill us."

"If that is your destiny," Vader replied, and the exchange reached its inevitable deadlock.

"No, Uncle Anakin," Ani stepped forward. He felt the tumult within Vader reach its crisis point, felt Anakin within him straining for dominance, and pushed. "Search your feelings; you can't do this. I can sense the conflict in you. Let go of your hate. Let me take you home, before it's too late."

The circle turned. They had reached the end of the walk by then. Vader hesitated and the Force roiled with the sheer magnitude of events and possibilities come to a head.

"It is too late for me, son. The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your master now," Vader said, raising his hand to signal over his shoulder. The door slid open, revealing a trio of stormtroopers. Vader signaled to them and they came out to flank the brothers.

Ani nodded in grim acceptance. The circle _had_ turned, but not to the point that he had hoped it would. He had seen this possibility often enough, and he knew that there was still a chance. He would very much have preferred to have seen these events play out differently. The trial that lay ahead of them now would be the most difficult one that any of the three had ever faced, and the outcome was not certain. Yet he also knew that every turning point in his life had led to this moment and to the confrontation that would soon take place aboard the Death Star. This was the shatterpoint that Master Windu had seen so long ago, when he warned Obi Wan that his young son's destiny was tied both to Anakin Skywalker's and to Palpatine's. Having seen it, Mace had done his best to prepare Ani for it.

He looked up again at Darth Vader, conscious that he carried with him the legacies of the greatest Jedi in the history of the Order—and the trust of three men who had all lost their lives because of Darth Sidious. A gentle smile touched his lips.

"I won't run this time, my Uncle. I hope you're still good at saving Kenobi butts."


	234. Having So Much To Lose

Jareth crept through the grass after Han and Leia, careful to keep his body low to the ground. He knew that Isaly was in no mood for any trouble from him or Shmi this morning, but if he couldn't be at his Master's side he at least wanted some part of the ground action here on Endor. That would only happen if he could prove himself trustworthy to Han--_General Solo_, he corrected himself. The trouble was, General Solo didn't have a lot of patience for kids who screwed up, so he was doubly concerned with making himself soundless and invisible. Shmi had an easier time of it. She had her special Force trick, which he still couldn't really get the hang of. Usually, he could rely on her to keep them from being noticed, but it was kind of hard to hold hands with her while they were both creeping through the grass. Especially with Isaly positioned between them.

He guessed that she figured there would be less chance of them pulling an escape and dash maneuver if they couldn't talk without being heard. It wasn't actually true; they were pretty good at talking with the Force, and a lot of times, he knew what Shmi wanted or what she was going to say before she did anything anyway. If the kids had wanted to bolt and run, they could have, but he doubted that they would be able to do anything for Ani and and Luke, let alone do it without being caught or otherwise jeopardizing the mission.

For once, though, it seemed to him that Shmi had lost the heart to defy the grown-ups. He'd been so relieved to see her when the strike-team met back up with General Solo that he'd run over and hugged her, fully expecting to be pushed away. Surprisingly, she returned his hug, and said nothing about trying to help Ani and Luke. Maybe some of the stuff her parents had said to them the day before had sunk in, but he wasn't sure. It felt like there was something else going on with her, but with so many people around and a mission to accomplish, he didn't have a chance to find out what it was. He'd never really seen her like this, except for that few minutes on Cloud City when she had hesitated about whether or not to help him escape and rescue Ani from the _Executor_. She'd recovered from that by the time they snuck onto the shuttle. Now, she just kept acting weird…well…more like a normal kid, doing what Isaly told her and not arguing back or complaining. It was strange for Shmi.

Jareth didn't know what to make of it, and it made him even more uneasy than he had been before. The whole idea of Ani and Luke surrendering themselves to Vader made him want to chase after them and tie them up, but he knew that he wouldn't dare such a thing unless he had Shmi there to help. Even so, he hated being left behind like this, hated the sinking feeling and growing cold that gnawed at the pit of his stomach because Ani had chosen to exclude him. In a way, he understood his Master's reasons. He was a kid, and he didn't have enough training to fight Vader or the Emperor. Plus, the Emperor was _after_ all the Force-sensitive kids, and it would have been pretty stupid to walk onto the Death Star. Still, Ani and Luke were doing just that, and Palps wanted them too, maybe even more than he wanted Shmi, her brothers, and Jareth himself.

After the way that Ani had acted when he found Jareth and Shmi hiding on the _Tydirium_, he wondered if his Master would ever really trust him again. Ani had accepted their apology, but that didn't mean he would treat either of them the way he had before. This would probably be the last time in a very long while that he got to go _anywhere_ on a mission with the Rebellion. Why would his Master take him along if he didn't think Jareth could be trusted to follow orders?

He heaved a troubled sigh as he reached the log where Han, Leia, and Chewie had stopped. Carefully easing himself into a kneeling position, he mopped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm and then leaned his elbows on the knotty wood. The only way he could win anybody's trust around here was to do what he was told, whether he liked it or not. Frowning, he glanced over at Shmi and wondered if she had reached a similar conclusion.

_No,_ he decided, deflating a little. _Han would have done the same thing she did. He's gotta still think she's okay._

Beside him, Isaly stretched out her hand, stroking the back of his hair with her fingers. She frowned a silent question at him, wanting to know if he was all right. Nodding, he inched a little closer to her and peered over the ridge.

"The main entrance to the control bunker's on the far side of that landing platform," Leia told them softly, indicating the platform tower that stood at the base of the generator. "This isn't gonna be easy."

"Hey, don't worry. Chewie and me got into a lot of places more heavily guarded than this," Han assured her.

Wicket and Paploo, their Ewok guides, started to chatter excitedly in their language. Jareth frowned at them and concentrated, trying to make words out of the sounds he heard. Since Ani and Isaly rejoined the Rebel fleet a year ago, he'd discovered that he was pretty good at picking up new languages, and he spent a lot of time just listening to the people on the Alliance ships talk to one another. He made kind of a game out of seeing how long it took him to sort out words and then attach meanings to them. Ani said that he was doing it with the Force, but if that was true, he didn't really know how. It wasn't doing him much good at the moment, either. He didn't seem to be able to make much sense of the Ewoks' speech; it all sounded squirrelly.

"What's he saying?" Leia asked Threepio.

"He says there is a secret entrance on the other side of the ridge," replied the droid.

***

Luke caught flashes of memory from his brother's mind as the two of them stood beside Vader in the lift that would take them to the Emperor's throne room. The images were similar to the ones he picked up from Vader, but the feelings he sensed from them were oddly disparate. What he saw was the inside of a turbolift emblazoned with the insignia of the Jedi Order. From Ani's perspective, the car was immense, and the man who stood beside him was a giant. Luke had never actually _seen_ Anakin Skywalker before, except in the painting that their cousins had kept safe for them in Theed and in the flickering blue image of the holocube that Shmi had taken from Vader. It was odd to see him from the child Ani's point of view, younger than either of the Kenobi brothers now were, and seeming to embody everything that a made a Jedi. At least, everything that made little Ani's view of the Jedi back then, he amended, almost smiling.

Another man entered, also unnaturally tall from Ani's viewpoint. He wore the same type of robes that Obi Wan did, although his dark-skinned face was stern and forbidding where Obi Wan's was always full of warmth and gentle humor. Luke registered feelings of devotion toward him from the adult Ani, and it took him a few moments to place the figure. Master Windu, the Force Spirit who had helped re-train his brother in lightsaber combat after he lost his limbs on the first Death Star. The images flashed on him brightly in Ani's mind; darkly in the thoughts of the Sith Lord beside them, crystallizing the dichotomy of their perceptions.

The memory images from Vader came more reluctantly, but Luke recognized that it was the same scene, shown through the eyes of the other occupant of that long abandoned lift car. The small boy beside Anakin Skywalker seemed impossibly young and innocent to Luke. In his own childhood memories, Ani had always been bigger than he was, and as far back as Luke's recollections stretched, he had never seen his older brother so vibrantly alive and open. Even in the best of times, there had been the hint of a shadow in Ani's eyes and, though he often smiled, it was not the same smile that Luke now saw in Vader's mind.

Ani's feelings were a strange mix of sadness and fear, along with the kind of grim resolve that Luke most closely associated with their mother when she had seen a problem and decided on the proper course of action to fix it. He expected the grief, and the determination did not surprise him, but the fright gave him pause. Never in all the time that they had spent together, as boys, as young men, and finally as fellow Jedi, had he sensed this kind of cold dread from his brother. Vader's emotions were darker, and if anything, more confusing. He seemed to be sneering at his own memories, and the scorn was laced with bitterness. The deeply rooted hate and anger in him caught against the memories as if they were a prism and shot in multiple direction at once: inward, toward himself; outward toward the Jedi Order, the Rebel, Obi Wan, and Palpatine. How he could live in such a state, radiating rage at everyone and everything to which he was connected, astounded and baffled Luke. What further amazed him was the fact that at least a small remnant of Anakin Skywalker could have survived so long inside Vader's shell, bombarded as he was by such powerful and intense self-hatred.

The lift car stopped though, and there was no further time for such considerations. He felt Ani grow still inside, marshalling his mind and feelings with the discipline of his Jedi training. The door opened, and the three men entered the darkened chamber.

The Emperor's throne waited on a raised dais at the far end. For the moment, its back was to the newcomers, and Darth Sidious looked out the circular viewport onto the assembled spacecraft beyond. The three of them crossed the room in silence, the eerie sounds of their footsteps and Vader's breather echoing in the vast empty space. Luke began to understand his brother's feelings about this confrontation. Visceral terror made his gut clench, and the unadulterated blackness of the being on that throne reached out toward him, pulling him forward, surrounding him and trying to draw him into itself. He allowed his body to keep walking but firmly resisted the beckoning of the Dark Side.

Palpatine's chair swiveled as they reached the top of the stairs. Leia had told him about the Emperor's disfigurement before, but nothing could have prepared him for the hideous deformity of that face or the malevolent yellow eyes. The most frightening part was that he knew the being sitting there had once been at least physically human. He carefully schooled his outward reaction, making sure that he displayed only the calmly composed expression of a Jedi Knight, but revulsion ran cold through his veins.

"Welcome, young Kenobis," the Sith Lord began. "I have been expecting you."


	235. Finding Devotion

"It's only a few guards," Han was saying. "This shouldn't be too much trouble."

"Well, it only takes one to sound the alarm," Leia pointed out in a low voice, almost whispering. Something didn't feel right about this, but she couldn't tell if her anxiety was her own or coming from the danger she sensed that her brothers were now in. They had anticipated a trap and were prepared for it, but she still felt uneasy.

"Then we'll have to do it real quiet-like," Han grinned, never at a loss for self-confidence. He turned to Shmi and Jareth, who were crouched beside them with Isaly. "Okay, you two. Up in the trees. Go, no arguing."

"Oh! Oh, oh my! Mistress Leia!" Threepio called suddenly.

"Quiet," Leia warned sharply as she turned toward the droid and their Ewok companions.

"I'm afraid our furry companion has gone and done something rather rash," the droid said apologetically.

She turned her head again and saw Paploo creeping out of the undergrowth near the bored Imperial scouts. The Ewok silent swung his furry ball of a body onto one of the scout's speeder bikes and began flipping switches at random. Suddenly, the bike's engine fired up with a tremendous roar. The scout troopers leapt up in surprise and raced toward him just as the speeder shot into motion. Hanging on for all he was worth, Paploo sped off into the forest. Three of the troopers jumped on their bikes and chased after him, leaving only one on guard at the bunker's entrance.

"Not bad for a little fur ball!" Han admitted, obviously impressed. Glancing at Threepio, then turning his head to indicate the kids. "You stay here. Up in the trees like I told you. We'll take of this."

"Han," Leia frowned, easing herself to her feet. She laid a hand on his arm, and he turned back to her with a look of concern.

"What's the matter?"

"I think I know what's wrong," she said.

"Okay…" he replied expectantly.

She turned her head to indicate the bunker. "Mara Jade's in there."

"Ohh, _great_," Han rolled his eyes skyward. "Well. Luke said she was comin' to this party. We might as well go say hello."

Jareth, who was still scrambling into the branches of a nearby tree, dropped down again at the mention of Mara's presence. Shmi glanced from him to her mother, then out toward the bunker, and finally let go of the branch she was holding. She landed beside Jareth and they moved to either side of Leia.

"We can help, Princess," Jareth said firmly.

Leia sighed, looking toward her sister-in-law. Isaly shifted positions thoughtfully, and to Leia's surprise, didn't immediately reprimand the pair. "You know what Mom and Dad would say about doing things together."

"I don't think this is what they had in mind," Leia remarked.

"Maybe not," agreed Isaly. "But they're here."

"No way," Han protested.

"Han!" Shmi cast him a wounded look.

"Kid, I don't want you getting in the middle of this. There's too much that could go wrong. It ain't one on one, and it ain't a con game. Anything happens to one of you brats…" he trailed off, leaving the statement unfinished, and shook his head roughly.

"I'm not suggesting we let them walk in there and duel with her," Isaly said, glancing upward toward the trees. "I just think maybe there's something they can do from up there."

Leia arched an eyebrow curiously. She knew that they couldn't reliably count on Isaly's tranquilizer trick to work again. She'd developed the drug as a non-lethal way of temporarily neutralizing Force-sensitive opponents, but using it required the element of surprise. In the first place, needles were relatively easy to fend off if a Force user was alert and knew they were coming. More importantly, there were meditative techniques which could slow the action of intrusive chemicals on the body, and since Mara had been exposed to the drug once already, it was safest to assume that it wouldn't work a second time.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked.

Gesturing for Threepio and Wicket, Isaly drew the group into a circle. "Well…"

* * *

Ani gave the Emperor a defiant look and said remained silent. Palpatine raised his index finger slightly, and both boys' binders fell away, clattering to the floor.

"You no longer need those," he said.

The arrogance of it made Ani's jaw tighten, and he forced the muscles to relax. Luke shifted his gaze briefly, giving him a look that silently urged him not to be goaded. He drew in a slow breath and let it out again, waiting.

"Guards," Palpatine spoke again. "Leave us."

The two red-robes stationed at the lift doors turned obediently and entered the car. He waited for them to depart, then rose from his throne like a wraith from a sealed sepulchre. He drifted the short distance from it to the prisoners. Glancing down at his hands, Ani entertained the fleeting realization that he could reach out and wring Sidious' scrawny neck then and there. He remained still, allowing the desire to pass out of his consciousness.

"I'm looking forward to completing your training," the Sith Lord remarked casually. "In time, you _and_ your family will call me Master."

"You're gravely mistaken," Ani shook his head. "I know what you are, _my Lord_, and I'm here to finish what my Masters started. You won't turn Luke and I the way you turned my uncle, and you won't get anywhere near our family."

"Oh, no, my young Jedi. You will find that it is you who are mistaken...about a great many things," Palpatine replied mockingly. His emotions were almost gleeful. He radiated a sick kind of eagerness; gloating enjoyment of what he perceived as the culmination of his efforts to exterminate both the Rebellion and the Jedi Order; and a deeper, more visceral pleasure in the anticipation of the Kenobis' personal suffering.

Ani struggled against the foul current of those feelings, wondering what had gone into the creation of such a vile being. Palpatine was utterly remorseless; he seemed to have no capacity for guilt, no ability to empathize with any living creature, and he gave no consideration to the suffering he caused except insofar as he could derive pleasure from the pain of his victims. In his mind, the universe itself existed to do his bidding, and any person or group who asserted their rights to live outside his control was not just dangerous from a political standpoint but personally offensive.

He had met his share of self-centered people before, and he had encountered a few that he would have described as narcissistic. In fact, Anakin Skywalker was not exactly known to have a small ego, and it was profound selfishness which had ultimately eaten enough of his humanity to birth Darth Vader. Palpatine, however, was a different breed. The man was, as far as Ani's empathic gifts could discern, pathologically incapable of feeling anything other than entitlement or lust for power. He drew his only pleasure in seeing how far and how painfully he could twist another being's soul. He respected, valued, and cared for nothing beyond himself.

Ani would have called him a perfect predator, except that his youth in the desert had given him too great an understanding of the relationships between predator and prey. Predators hunted and ate what they required. They felt no guilt over the lives of their prey because their instincts compelled them to survive. They didn't kill more than they needed; to do so would have been both a waste of energy and a danger to them. The prey species had to be allowed to propagate or else the predators would also die out. Palpatine's machinations, the pain he caused, the lives he took, had no such motivation or connection to a balanced ecosystem. He simply did harm because he enjoyed the sensation. Inflicting pain brought him as close as he was able to come to happiness.

Had he ever been capable of more? Ani wondered. Had there ever been a human being inside that shell, or had he simply been born without a conscience or the ability to love? He found himself hoping that the latter was true. The alternative—that someone, somewhere had taken a healthy human child and abused him so severely that the resulting entity grew into the monster before him now—was simply unfathomable.

Vader stepped forward, breaking his thought process and drawing Palpatine's attention. He handed his master the boys' weapons. "Their lightsabers."

The Emperor took them, looking down at the hilts with what began as feigned interest but became genuine intrigue when he took in the saberstaff. "Not quite a Jedi weapon…"

"Neither is the one my Uncle now carries," Ani replied easily. "The weapon doesn't make the Jedi any more than the robes."

"Still dreaming of saving your Uncle from the evil clutches of the Empire, are you?" Palpatine shook his head. "You cannot save him, boy. Lord Vader was mine before you were even born."

"Anakin Skywalker wasn't," Luke spoke up.

Ani only smiled.

"By now you must know that Anakin Skywalker is dead. Darth Vader is my servant. He can never be turned back from the Dark Side. So it will be with you," predicted Palpatine.

"You're wrong. Soon my brother and I will be dead. And you with us," Luke replied coolly.

The Emperor had begun to walk back toward the throne. He laughed, not bothering to look as he replied, "Perhaps you are referring to the imminent attack of your Rebel Fleet."

Ani crossed his arms. "What about it?"

Now Palpatine turned, black robes swirling around his feet in a whisper of motion. "I sure you, young fool, we are quite safe from your friends here."

"Your overconfidence is your weakness," Luke warned him.

"Your faith in your friends is yours!" sneered Palpatine. The words were more like a growl than a statement, and there was such a surge of venomous, animalistic loathing, that Ani had to still the urge to bring his hands up in self-defense. Instead, he slowly let both arms drop to his sides.

Vader looked at him, then turned his head to encompass Luke in his statement as well, "It is pointless to resist."

"Everything that has transpired has done so according to my design. Your friends up there on the Sanctuary Moon…" Palpatine paused, waving his arm grandly to indicate Endor. Luke tensed visibly at the tone of his voice, and the Emperor noted his reaction. "…are walking into a trap. As is your Rebel Fleet! It was I who allowed the Alliance to know the location of the shield generator. It is quite safe from your pitiful little band. An entire legion of my best troops awaits them. Oh...I'm afraid the deflector shield will be quite operational when your friends arrive."

Luke's gaze darted from Palpatine to Vader, then to his brother and back to the Emperor, his thus far admirable composure beginning to slip. It was understandable, Ani thought. After all, it _wasn't_ just their friends down there on Endor. It was their family. More members of their family were leading the assault on this station, and their parents were aboard Ackbar's flagship, not to mention Ani's young sons. If Sidious' gambit was successful, he very well might kill them all and destroy the Jedi in one fell swoop. Leia and the boys had anticipated a trap on Endor as soon as they realized Vader was here, so she and Han would be ready for whatever lay in wait for them, be it one legion or five. The notion of the entire fleet being drawn into a trap was more unsettling. There seemed to be little that Obi Wan and Yoda could do to avert that kind of disaster.

Ani shook his head slowly, raising his hand toward Luke in a gesture of reassurance. He'd heard far too many stories of disaster turned to triumph by a certain pair of Jedi, and he wasn't ready to count Anakin Skywalker out of this game yet. He flicked his gaze significantly toward Vader and then looked at the Emperor with a knowing half-smile.

"Your arrogance astounds me, Your Highness. Haven't you noticed yet that we have a policy on traps?"


	236. Would You Do This With Me?

Shmi still didn't know what to make of the Ewoks. Han and Chewie seemed willing to forget the fact that they had almost been the main course at a village barbecue yesterday, so she guessed that she should trust the little creatures. In some ways, she found them very endearing. They were certainly enthusiastic in their aid of the Rebellion. It was as if, the moment they accepted the Rebels into their tribe, the fight against the Empire became their fight as well, and anything that had gone on before was no longer important to them. She found it very similar to the way that her grandparents acted toward anyone like Han or Lando, who became members of their family through whatever set of circumstances brought them together. Once that happened, it didn't matter what the person might have done before, and she figured that the Ewoks regarded the tribe as a sort of extended family.

She could even admit that she was impressed with how quickly Wicket was able to put Isaly's plan into action. In addition to the two guides, Chief Chirpa had sent several of the village scouts to relay messages between the strike team and the Ewok warriors who were hiding in the forest with their weapons and hang-gliders or waiting to spring up from hidden pits in the clearing outside the bunker. A word to one of them had set forth a flurry of activity. While most of the Rebels went inside, the Ewoks hastily rigged up and hid another one of their net traps at the edge of the clearing. This time, though, instead of using an animal's carcass to weight the trap, which would have raised suspicions, they rolled some large rocks into place and covered the whole thing with brush and debris from the woods. Even though her aunt Leia had said she could keep Mara Jade occupied inside for a while, Shmi hadn't expected them to be able to rig the trap so quickly.

Her job had been to keep any spying Imperial eyes from noticing what the Ewoks were doing, which was a new kind of twist to her favorite Force trick. It was difficult for her to keep others from being noticed when she wasn't touching them, so her mother had told her not to focus on the Ewoks at all, but to concentrate on the clearing and keep a picture in her mind of what it looked like when it was empty. Pushing that mental image out through the Force wasn't very different from the way she pushed a suggestion with the Jedi mind trick, so once she understood what Isaly wanted, she found that the idea made perfect sense. It _did_ take a lot of concentration, though, so she was glad that the furballs could move as fast as they did. That still didn't mean she had to like them.

Not even a minute after they were done, the familiar, booming gait of Imperial walkers signaled the springing of the Emperor's trap. Stormtroopers and regular soldiers began to stream out of the woods as the giant metal monsters positioned themselves. Shmi wrapped her legs more tightly around the branch that she was sitting on and watched the massing of troops. Even though she knew that it was coming, the sight of so many Imps all in one place made her stomach sink, and she hoped fervently that Han really knew what he was doing.

"Get ready," Jareth whispered from the branch above her.

She nodded in a quick gesture of acknowledgement and took a deep breath. The next part of the plan was going to be even more tricky. She reached out carefully to grip the top of the net in her small fingers, concentrating on making it _not there_ when Leia and Mara Jade came out of the bunker. Her mother said that it would be just like the games of hide-and-seek she used to play with Luke, but there were going to be a lot more distractions out here, a lot more things to worry about.

_ "You just do it, kid,_ Han had told her. _ "Don't worry about me or the rest of the team. We'll do our job. There's nothin' out here for you but that net. Don't even think about Mara Jade."_  
"Shmi, you okay? Here they come!" Isaly called from behind the tree.

She set her jaw and didn't answer.

* * *

Palpatine's mouth curved upward in an expression of smug self-satisfaction that mimicked a smile but lacked the essential humanity. The effect was both chilling and infuriating. He raised his arm to indicate the segmented viewport behind him. Then, slowly, he lowered himself into the throne, yellow eyes fixed on Ani and Luke.

"It would seem that your policy is about to backfire," he said with mock-sadness.

"I've heard that one before," Luke replied, but he could feel his discipline weakening. The Dark Side rolled off of the Emperor in waves and grew into a living entity that permeated the room. Its tentacles wrapped themselves around the Jedi, whispering of another, easier way—one that would solve their current problems with the tremendously gratifying bonus of being able to watch the grotesque features of the monster in that throne crumple as his arrogant countenance twisted into one of pain and horror. It was a fate he deserved—richly—for all that he had done to the galaxy, to Luke's family, to his brother.

Vader had offered it to him once. The Dark Lord wouldn't stop him now. It would be simple. He squared his shoulders, drawing in a breath.

_No,_ he told it, feeling the writhing appendages draw back again. _I won this battle in Cloud City._

"Come, boy, see for yourself," Palpatine spoke again.

Against his will, Luke found himself moving closer to the throne. He didn't look back at Ani, but he knew that his brother was fighting the same compulsion. The nearer he came to the frigidly malevolent presence of the Emperor, the stronger the pull of his aggressive feelings became.

_Emotion, yet peace.  
Ignorance, yet knowledge.  
Passion, yet serenity.  
Chaos, yet harmony.  
Death, yet the Force. _

Forcing himself to walk past the Emperor and peer out the viewport, he stared out at the mounting space battle. He'd never seen one from this type of vantage point before. From the cockpit of an X-Wing, it was easier to take. There was only himself and the target in front of him—then the next one, and the next. He had the familiar, comforting chatter of his wing-mates on the ship-to-ship comm. He never saw the odds against the Rebellion illustrated so graphically. He never had to stand by helplessly and watch as friends and comrades winked out of existence in quiet, distant flashes of light. He'd never been within arms' reach of the Emperor, the cause of all this destruction, with a lightsaber easily within reach.

_I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father._

_Jedi are the guardians of peace in the galaxy.  
Jedi use their powers to defend and to protect.  
Jedi respect all life, in any form.  
Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy.  
Jedi seek to improve themselves through knowledge and training._

Palpatine's grating voice broke into his recitation, continuing to goad him. He recognized what the Sith Lord was doing. His goal was to disrupt both Luke's focus and his resolve, undermining his connection to the Force by sowing doubts and distractions, demoralizing with word pictures of the Rebellion's demise. They weren't engaged in a lightsaber duel yet, but another kind of battle had been taking place from the moment that the Kenobi brothers entered this room. This was _ Dun Möch_, the domination of spirit. He knew that recognition of an enemy's tactic was the first step in countering it, but knowing didn't make him want less to wring the monster's neck until the dry, crackling voice was silenced once and for all.

"From here you will witness the final destruction of the Alliance, and the end of your _insignificant_ Rebellion," Palpatine entoned.

Furiously, Luke spun to face the throne. His breath came fast and he stared at the lightsaber which still lay on the arm of the chair. The spindly fingers of the Emperor reached out to caress the hilt. Swallowing, Luke ripped his gaze away and sought Ani, who was still rooted to the spot where the two brothers had stood a few moments earlier.

"You know what he's doing, don't you, brother?" he asked softly, leaving all of his urgings, all of his arguments against the Dark Side, all of the promises that they had made to one another unspoken. Still, the weight of those things hung in the air, pulling on Luke as a counterbalance to the dark energy that he could feel squeezing away his Jedi calm, his resolve, and even his reasoning mind.

"Yes," Luke nodded, but his voice was ragged even in his own ears.

Palpatine laughed. "You still want this, don't you? The hate is swelling in you now. Take your Jedi weapon. Use it. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it. Give in to your anger. With each passing moment, you make yourself more my servant!"

"No!" Luke shook his head. No matter what he wanted, no matter what he felt, he wasn't here to kill the Emperor. He was here to help his brother turn Anakin Skywalker back from the Dark Side. Han and Leia would get the shield down in time. They were _expecting_ a trap. The fleet would hold out; they would take out the battle station, and when the Death Star went, Palpatine would go with it. In all probability, he and Ani would die as well. Luke had faced death before, and although he never went looking for it, he didn't fear it. If he couldn't avoid it, then at least he wanted his death here to mean something.

"It is unavoidable. It is your destiny. You, like your uncle, are now mine!"

"You're mistaken again, your highness," Ani said, quietly moving to stand beside Vader. "You were never his, were you, Uncle Anakin?"

Vader swiveled his head to look at Ani, then turned back to his Master without saying anything. Luke could feel the conflict in him rising again, coming to critical mass as the tide of battle outside swelled. He knew as well as the Kenobis did that this would be the final stand for all of them. He wouldn't—couldn't—face down the Emperor alone. Although he might have had the power to win, his own fears held him in check. The part of him that couldn't bear to see Ani and Luke destroyed now waged its own internal war with the creature of the Dark Side that Palpatine had created. He could trust them—help them now—or he could remain the Emperor's weapon of choice and help him turn them, hoping that then he might be able to keep them under his thumb. It all came down to whether or not he could allow Anakin Skywalker's final act of selflessness to die here.

"What do you think would become of Lord Vader if you succeed, young fool?" Palpatine sneered suddenly. "After so many years, what he is cannot be changed. The darkness which he once feared is now what sustains him. Do you think you can erase what has been done?"

"No," Ani shook his head.

"Your efforts are futile. Anakin Skywalker is no more than a child's memory," Palpatine declared.

"Really," Ani said in a tone of stark disbelief.

"What is lost cannot be regained," said the Emperor firmly.

"You're the one who convinced him he'd lost everything. But everyone in this room knows you can't be trusted. You're a liar, Your Highness, and my uncle knows it," Ani said with a mirthless smile. He turned to Vader again, speaking in a quiet, sincere tone that held a new finality. "Many things _have_ changed since that night, Uncle. One thing hasn't. You never lost me. That's all I can promise. But it's more than this monster has ever given you."


	237. Seeing Without Knowing

Jareth also had a job to do, but he couldn't resist the urge to steal at least one peek as the battle began. He opened one eye and grinned at the sight of Princess Leia, who, with lightsaber flashing and whirling, was backing Mara Jade straight through the clearing toward himself and Shmi. Mara seemed to be in control of the engagement, with her new green blade's slashes and parries steadily forcing Leia to give ground, and the assembled Imperial forces all hesitated, unsure whether or not to interfere as the two of them battled their way across the open grass. He saw Han and the rest of the strike team being led out of the bunker, but then quickly squeezed his eyes shut again and focused all of his attention on the stones that were weighing down the Ewoks' net.

After seeing Master Yoda lift Luke's X-Wing out of the swamp mud, he knew that he would be able to move them, but he still had to be able to feel them in the Force, to put all of his mind on the way that they were connected, to each other and to him, in order for moving them to become as simple and natural as raising his arm. It helped that he didn't have to lift or hold anything in the air, just push all the rocks far enough off the net that it would close and take Mara with it into the trees.

Concentration became more difficult when the Ewoks' battle horn sounded and all of their warriors either dropped out of the trees or jumped out of their hidden trenches. The Imperials finally lost their indecision, and the disruptive racket marred his focus while the confusion of the battle muddied the currents of the Force. The stones, which had been so easy to find and feel in the familiar energy field before became lost in the chaos of so many people all intent on harming one another.

"Jareth, now!" Isaly yelled suddenly.

"I'm trying!" he cried, opening his eyes again to stare down at the net where Mara Jade was now standing. Maybe if he could _see_ what he was doing, it would be easier to find the rocks. Mara's lightsaber was arching through the air as Leia sprang back out of the way, but the red-haired woman spun around, now aware that a counter-trap had been laid for her. Isaly ran out from behind the tree and launched herself at Mara's knees, bowling the other woman over.

"Mommy!" he heard Shmi cry, then saw her smaller body sailing downward toward the pair already grappling at the bottom of the net. His hair stood on end, and the rush of protectiveness toward her brought a surge of clarity. He pushed aside the commotion of the fighting around them and found the calm center that Ani had taught him to seek within himself. As he did, the weights on the net rolled away, and the heavy vines snapped closed. The whole thing whooshed upward, trapping Mara, Isaly, and Shmi inside it. He closed his eyes, breathing a momentary sigh of relief. Then he heard Shmi screaming with outrage.

"Jareth! You idiot! Get me down from here!"

"Ouch!" Mara Jade added furiously. "Shmi, get your foot out of my ear!"  
"There are other places I could think of to put it!" Shmi snapped back.

Jareth scrubbed his face with his hand. "Isaly…?"

"I think we're okay," she called, though he couldn't quite figure out where she was in the tangle of body parts.

"What do I do now?" he asked.

"Just…hang out for now," she told him.

"Cute," Mara quipped. "This was your brilliant idea I suppose."

"Yep," Isaly retorted. "I could have just hidden behind the tree and shot you when you got close enough, but I thought this would be a lot more fun."

"Your family has quite a strange idea of fun," Mara sighed.

"I hadn't noticed."

"I don't believe this," Leia sighed, rubbing her eyes with her fingertips.

"HELLO?" Han shouted from over by the bunker, where it looked like he was trying to get the door open again. "Anybody feel like helping me?! The redhead is not part of the family yet. Okay…me neither…legally speaking. But I'm closer!"

* * *

"It is too late for such promises," Vader replied heavily.

Ani closed his eyes slowly, struggling against his own disappointment. The Jedi way was to hold no expectations but rather to accept whatever occurred as the will of the Force. It was a difficult tenet to balance when compassion and the leading of his feelings compelled him to draw out the good he knew remained in Vader. Ultimately, he acknowledged his frustration and regret, but then allowed himself to move past them. This battle was far from over. The tumult of his uncle's feelings took on a new intensity. His hatred for Palpatine clashed against the rising humanity of Anakin Skywalker, who strained within him to reach for the promise that Ani held out to him.

He could feel the cost of the words as Vader spoke them, the toll they took on his spirit, but he also knew that he couldn't expect such a profound shift in his uncle's long-ingrained mindset to happen simply because he pointed a finger at Palpatine. The two of them were tied together in a web of deceit and mutual lies that stretched back to the end of the Clone Wars. Whether Vader hated the Emperor or not, he wouldn't be swayed so easily while Palpatine sat not ten feet away. The influence of the Dark Side was rank in this room, and Vader, who had now spent more than two decades immersed in hate and anger, was more susceptible than Ani or Luke. Yet the longer this took, the more that Sidious could push them all, and the more dangerous things became.

"You see?" Palpatine cackled. "You have lost. And now, as you can see, my young apprentice, your fleet has failed. Your friends on the Endor moon will not survive. The Alliance will die…as will your friends. Now. Witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battlestation!"

Ani clenched his teeth, feeling his control over his hatred for this creature finally beginning to crack. He had sworn not to take revenge—not to attack the Emperor in anger—and he resolutely held to that vow, but he began to picture Obi Wan and Padme, along with his young sons, dying in a blaze of agony as the flagship fell. His wife and daughter on Endor, Jareth who was as much a son to him now as Anakin Skywalker had once been to his father—Han and Leia—no—if they died, it would not be for nothing.

The Emperor triggered a com switch on the arm of his throne, giving his station commander permission to fire at will. Ani realized that his hands were balled into fists at his sides and slowly, deliberately uncurled them. His gaze moved to his brother, who was staring at the Emperor with rage and fury of his own. He recognized those feelings, even shared them, and the images he caught from Luke's thoughts struck like physical blows. Beru and Owen. Biggs. The destruction of Alderaan and the agony of grief that it caused their sister—the burning flagship that mirrored his own fears—Han and Leia—Mara Jade—

"Luke—" he began raggedly.

Palpatine cut him off. "Good. I can feel your anger. I am defenseless. Take your weapon! Strike me down with all your hatred, and your journey towards the dark side will be complete."

Luke whirled away from him, staring out the window again with a rigidly determined posture, but a moment later, he spun again, arm outstretched for the lightsaber which lay waiting on the arm of the Emperor's throne.

"No—!" Ani raised his hand, calling his own weapon from the other side of the throne, but he froze in shocked disbelief when Vader's red blade came up to block his brother's green one. The two lightsabers sparked and clashed on contact and their wielders battled their way from the Emperor's chair to the top of the steps. "Uncle, don't—what are you—?"

Ani started forward, torn between the smugly grinning visage of the Emperor and the two combatants. He could stop the whole thing, a voice whispered in his mind, but he shook it off, angling himself toward Luke's exposed left side. He didn't want to fight Vader again, but he wouldn't stand by and allow Luke to face an enemy alone, especially not now. His brother's feelings hot and charged with rage; it gave him focus, but Ani knew what cost such focus would soon bring. Vader's emotions confused him, but it was difficult to analyze them while he studied the duel and waited for an opening in which to aid Luke's attack. They reached the stairs and Luke drove a hard kick into Vader's midsection, sending him sailing to the floor below. Palpatine began to laugh with delight, but finally Luke hesitated, and with the distance between them to provide a momentary lull in the confrontation, Ani began to make sense of the jumble of shock, outrage, fear, and sudden determination that Vader had become in the Force.

"Good. Use your aggressive feelings, boy! Let the hate flow through you," Palpatine goaded.

Ani shook his head again, trying to block out the distraction. Vader mounted the stairs again, moving menacingly toward his brother, and realization struck. "Luke, it's not him!"

"What—?" realizing that he had been provoked, Luke had already switched off his lightsaber. He turned to face his brother, then cast a confused glance between Palpatine and Vader, who was still advancing on them from the stairs.

"Palpatine is—controlling him!" Ani explained urgently. "Controlling his mechnos with the Force. Like he's some kind of puppet!"

As he finished the sentence, Vader reached the top of the dais again and swung at Luke with a heavy overhand blow. Luke's lightsaber arm flashed back up, the blade igniting just in time to fend off the attack, and his voice cracked as he called back, "Well, what am I supposed to _do_ Ani?!"

"Help him!"

"Him?! What about me!" Luke cried as the pair moved down the steps with their blades locked. Reaching the floor, he leapt onto a nearby platform and then used the Force to propel himself into a backflip onto the relative safety of the catwalk above them.

Gritting his teeth, Ani spun toward the throne and leveled his own weapon at the Emperor, who looked back at him with an expression of calm disdain. "Stop this!"

"You must stop them, boy," Palpatine replied. "You must choose. Vader or your brother."

"I won't play your game, Sidious," Ani shook his head, then he glanced nervously toward Luke as the hum of Vader's lightsaber took on a new, ominous note, and he saw the red blade collide with the metal plating where his brother stood, triggering a shower of sparks.

In that moment of distraction, he felt a hard, cold wave of Force energy slam into his body, throwing him across the dais and down the steps. He lost his grip on his saberstaff and the whole room began to spin as he tumbled backward, head over feet, and finally crashed to the ground where he skidded several more feet before coming to a stop.

Wincing in pain, he struggled to sit up again and saw the Emperor's black robed form drifting toward him with a maniacal grin on his face.

"Luke…Uncle Anakin…?"


	238. Save The Stars and Heal the Scars

As Han came running out of the bunker again, arms waving, Isaly saw Leia's lightsaber come spinning at them from the other side of the clearing. With an accuracy that could only have been Force-aided, the blade gently nicked the bottom of it, then boomeranged back into Leia's waiting hand. The strain on the broken webbing quickly split the net open, spilling all three reluctant captives onto the ground.

"Shmi, run!" she ordered, then grabbed Mara Jade's arm and half-hauled the other woman into the safety of the brush. All of them reached it and ducked for cover just as the bunker exploded. The shock wave from the blast knocked the wind out of her for a few moments, but she recovered in time to watch the shield generator go up in a spectacular fount of molten flame.

She expected some sort of resistance from Mara Jade after that, but the young woman had been oddly dazed since around the same time that Han and Leia had managed to get the bunker door open. Now, rather than put up a fight, she turned a strange, vacant expression on Isaly, and her body went rigid.

"What's wrong with Mara, Mom?" Shmi asked, biting her lip.

"I don't know," Isaly shook her head, looking around for Jareth and Leia. "I guess it's probably—"

"Isaly, get back!" Jareth warned, springing toward them from behind a nearby stand of bushes as Mara suddenly clutched at either side of her head and screamed…

* * *

By cushioning his fall with the Force, Luke was able to land relatively unharmed. He rolled under the Emperor's dais and carefully got to his feet in the low-ceilinged enclave beneath the platform. If Ani was right, Vader wouldn't follow him down here. Palpatine would be too distracted with trying to fight Ani to be able to effectively control the Dark Lord, and if he'd _needed_ to do so in the first place, then despite the Dark Lord's rather noncommittal response to Ani's last overture of friendship, the brothers had to be quite close to reaching Anakin Skywalker.

Still, he wasn't ready to take chances just yet. Scanning the shadowy environment, he quickly moved into most remote corner and crouched with his arms around his knees. He thought crazily of the hide-and-seek games he used to play with Shmi and forced back the edge of hysteria that suddenly pushed its way to the forefront of his mind. Overhead, the too-familiar clash of lightsabers signaled another battle going on, and he tightened his arms around himself, willing his thoughts and feelings to stillness. He knew that Ani couldn't defeat the Emperor alone, and he could feel the Force churning as a storm of destiny began. The clash of their presences and the power they wielded reverberated through Luke the echo of a thunderclap, but the dark energy that filled this place continued to grow. He wanted, desperately, to go to his brother's aid, but a whisper in the Force told him to stay where he was. He drew in a slow breath, waiting.

"You cannot hide forever, Luke," Vader's booming mechanical voice sounded in the darkness.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. After a moment's hesitation, he called back, "What are you doing, Uncle Anakin? I know you don't want to fight me. Your thoughts betray you. I feel the good in you. The conflict."

"There is no conflict," insisted Vader as the back of his cape became visible from Luke's hiding spot.

Luke held the silence for a long moment, and then eased himself to his feet, making a decision. "Then why did the Emperor have to force you to defend him a few moments ago?"

Vader turned to face him, moving closer with his lightsaber still raised. "Give yourself to the Dark Side. It is the only way to save your family. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for your twin sister."

"Of course they are," Luke replied, carefully approaching him. "That's what being a part of a family means. It's your family, too, you know. You once promised that you would care for Ani as if he was your own son. Are you going to break your word?"

Vader stared at him silently. Luke took another step forward, holding out his hands in the universal gesture of peace. He could feel his uncle's inner turmoil cresting as the Force-storm of Ani and Sidious neared its peak above them. Both of them sensed that the young Jedi Knight was weakening. Finally, Luke decided that the time for waiting was over.

"Uncle Anakin, I have to help my brother," he said quietly. "Haven't you been a puppet long enough?"

In the Force, he could almost see the Dark Lord crumble. He took a step back and, without fanfare, the red blade sank into its hilt. Luke knew that Ani would have pressed Vader to come with him, but he wasn't sure that his own relationship with Anakin Skywalker was strong enough to sway him that far, and his time was short. He slid past the black armored figure and raced out from under the platform again.

Then he stopped short, gaping at the sight that met his eyes. In the center of the room were two shadows. One, slimmer than the other, wielded a bar of blue and green fire which logic insisted was only Ani's lightstaff, but both Luke's physical senses and what he felt in the Force insisted was something more. It blazed so fast and hot in his brother's hands now that there seemed to be dozens of blades slashing in every conceivable direction at once. The thing he fought, the larger shadow, had at its center a meter-long bar of blood-red flame which Luke knew well as the weapon of the Sith, but he couldn't make his mind connect the weapon with the heinous old man who had drawn them all here. The blade danced back and forth within that writhing shadow, and he understood now that the tentacles he felt earlier had not simply been independent manifestations of the Dark Side; they were…somehow…part of the being with whom his brother was now locked in deadly combat. The shadow which could only be the Emperor seemed to grow and shrink in a sickly pulsating cycle as it tried to engulf Ani, who continually pushed it back as they wheeled and flipped, crashed together and came apart again, spinning and whirling in and out of one another's reach. The blades wove nets of light in the darkness, sparking and squealing as their killing exchanges crackled with more and more kinetic force, until they were moving with such speed that even Luke's Jedi trained eyes could no longer follow them.

With or without his physical senses, he could feel each turn of the blades in the Force. He'd felt it surge and churn before, but never to this extent, and never in such a way that every contact between two entities within it could remain so crisply, painfully distinct. The amount of energy that each of them was drawing on was frightening, but he could already see that his brother couldn't sustain the fight long enough. The Force itself was darkening, feeding on Palpatine's bloodlust and malice, feeding on the hatred that Ani still struggled to control lest it consume him the way it once had Anakin Skywalker.

Finally, the dark tendrils coiled themselves around him, and the shadow swallowed him up until only dance of the lightsaber blades was visible as evidence of the raging conflict. Luke ran toward them, following the battle across the throne room and onto the gangway above the Death Star's reactor core. Stunningly, by the time they reached it Ani had gained the upper hand, raining down furious Force-empowered blows on the Emperor with his mechanical hands, until at last the red blade tumbled from Sidious grip and spun down into the abyss. Palaptine shrank back against the guard rail and fell to the floor at Ani's feet, his hands raised in a show of helplessness. Standing over him, Ani pushed his blue blade forward until it came within a hairsbreadth of the desperately heaving throat.

"Yes," Palpatine croaked, and Luke froze again, letting his own weapon fall to his side as the Force screamed a warning. "Kill me."

"Ani, no!" Luke shouted, abruptly realizing that Vader was also standing beside him.

"Take your revenge, young Kenobi," Palpatine urged. "This is what you came for. What you were _born_ for."

Ani shook his head, struggling to contain the murderous desire that coursed through him, spewing out into the black currents of the Force around them. "No."

"You want to. I can _feel_ your anger. Your hatred," Palpatine hissed, and Luke cast a worried glance at Vader, who was edging close to the pair. He could easily see that the Sith Lord was using Ani's feelings against him, drawing on them to replenish his own power while he also employed them as a bait to pull his adversary into his web, but how could Luke help without striking Sidious down himself?

"Anakin, don't listen to him. Don't give in to your anger now, don't let him win. Everything our family has fought for will be for nothing," he said softly.

Slowly, painfully, he felt the tide of his brother's emotions begin to shift. Ani shook his head again, more firmly this time, and he backed away. The blue blade shrank back into its hilt, and he moved to stand beside Luke. The younger brother closed his eyes, breathing an immense sigh of relief, and then opened them again to meet the elder's eyes.

"It's over," Ani said, as both of them tossed their weapons aside. "I won't kill you in cold blood."

"You've failed, Your Highness," Luke added. "You won't turn brother against brother this time."

"Young fools," Palpatine's voice was a hoarse whisper. "Did you really think you could defeat me so easily?"

There was another shrill call of warning from the Force, and Ani stepped forward, seemingly aware of what was coming. In the same instant, Palpatine sprang to his feet again, the motion so blindingly fast that Luke hadn't even grasped what was happening until the streams of blue energy--_Force lightning_ he realized as the dim memory of some long ago memory suddenly connected itself to the nightmare in front of him/i--began to shoot from the Emperor's fingertips.

Ani raised his hands to deflect it, but the contact ignited his hands in an explosive rain of hot sparks and thick gray smoke. He screamed, staggering backwards, and Luke made a desperate bid to step between him and the powerful current. The Emperor drew more heavily on the Force, driving him to ground as waves of sizzling, yet somehow stunningly cold fire surged through his body. Ani half rolled on top of him, trying to shield him from the attack, but it did little good as the current merely passed through one brother and into the other. The terrible onslaught raged on until Luke lost all sense of his surroundings or of anything other than each new, fresh wave of death as it coursed through him. He would have expected that, at some point, his body would go numb from the effect of the cold, but it every jolt was as explicitly agonizing as the first—

Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the lightning stopped again. Dazed, he raised his head, and was half convinced that he was hallucinating as he took in the sight of Darth Vader holding Palpatine's body high over his head. Ani rolled off of him with a weak sigh of relief and struggled toward Vader as the Emperor's lightning began to arc toward backward to strike him.

"Uncle Anakin…!" he managed before he staggered to his knees again.

Luke forced himself to his own knees and then to his feet, grabbing Ani's arm as he half-walked and half threw himself toward Skywalker and the Emperor. Both Kenobis reached them as Anakin pitched Sidious over the guard rail. For a moment, Luke watched as their enemy plummeted down into the core, too stunned to move. Then, he grabbed the other two men by the shoulders and dragged them backward as the lightning triggered an explosion in the core. His knees buckled and all three landed heavily on the floor.

"Now it's over," Anakin wheezed, the breather now clicking and whirring as it struggled to function despite the electrical damage.

"It took you long enough, Uncle," Ani gasped, his head rolling to one side in exhaustion.

"We have to get out of here," Luke told them.

"Leave me," Anakin urged.

"Oh, no," Luke shook his head. "We don't do that in this family."

"I won't…make it," Anakin insisted, and Luke felt an ominous weight settle on his chest as he realized that it might be true.

"Uncle," Ani grabbed Luke's arm and pulled himself roughly into a sitting position. "We all go or we all stay. That's the Kenobi way."

---

__Yes, he's alive at this point. Yes, his injuries are less severe than they were in canon. No, I am not answering any further questions, regarding Vader or Obi-Wan or anyone else. Patience, my young Jedi friends.__


	239. Return of the Jedi

Wicket and several of the other Ewok warriors fashioned a litter to take Mara Jade's unconscious body back to the village. Getting them to agree to keep her there took a lot of arguing, and in the end they had to have Threepio play god again, which didn't do much to endear the furry little guys to Shmi. Han thought it was kind of a shame that she hadn't taken to them a little more. Even though they'd all gotten off to a bad start, the furballs had grown on him, and he had to admit that the Alliance wouldn't have been able to pull off this crazy plan without them.

Now, she stood at the edge of the clearing where her mother and Jareth were keeping an eye on the way they handled and restrained Mara. She had her arms crossed, and as Han walked up beside her, he noted a particularly dangerous scowl. Doing his best to restrain the tired smile that came unbidden to his lips, he slipped his hand onto her shoulder and then dropped to one knee, giving her a once-over for injuries.

He saw none, but he took another minute to study her face before finally asking, "You okay, kid?"

"I don't like those creepy little fuzzies," she said sullenly.

"Besides that," Han asked.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"They're not so bad, you know. The fuzzies," he remarked casually.

"What?" she stared.

"They're kinda cute, y'know?" he shrugged teasingly.

"Han. They're teddy bears with teeth! And they _eat_ people?!" she sighed in exasperation. "Who _cares_ if they're cute?!"

"What are you, jealous, kid?" he grinned.

"No!" she huffed. "Look. They didn't even want to help Mara Jade."

"They're afraid she won't be so happy when she wakes up, that's all," Han said. "Anyway, I thought you didn't like Mara Jade."

"I _don't_!" she insisted. "But she's hurt. It doesn't matter if I like her or not. I think Prune-face did something to her."

"What, from the Death Star?" he frowned.

"Yes," she nodded firmly.

"Well," Han glanced away. "That Forcey stuff…I dunno, kid. I still don't get all that."

She smiled indulgently. "It's okay, Master. Just trust me this time."

"Okay," he laughed.

Then, without warning, she sprang toward him and threw her arms around his neck, almost bowling him over with the fierceness of the unexpected hug. "I missed you, Han."

He hesitated, feeling suddenly awkward as a million potential responses passed through his mind. None of them seemed right or even natural, but after a second he closed his eyes and return the hug, leaning his cheek against her hair as he whispered, "It's okay, kid. I'm back now. It's okay."

She held onto him for another minute, and he gradually felt some of the tension ease its way out of her small frame. Then she released him, letting out a long breath as she stepped back and looked over her shoulder toward Isaly. The Ewoks looked as if they were done securing Mara, and Han new that Isaly and Jareth planned to go back to the village and keep an eye on her. Shmi turned back to him and bit her lip, looking torn. Han guessed she'd gotten pretty used to sticking by her mother since he'd been gone, and he figured that was only right.

He looked at her solemnly for a second, then reached up to tug one of her braids. "Go with your mom for now, okay? Keep an eye on Mara till I get there."

"Are you sure?" she frowned.

"Hey, listen, if anything goes wrong, you know your mother ain't gonna shoot," he winked.

"I don't wanna shoot Mara!" she protested.

"I ain't sayin' you have to, kid," he shook his head, not bothering to mention how recently she had been intent upon doing that very thing. She was a Kenobi, after all. She was supposed to be crazy. "Just be ready in case."

She considered this for a few moments, then nodded firmly. "Yes, Master."

He watched her run off toward Isaly with a slightly shaking smile. Then he realized what he was doing and shook his head at his own behavior, climbing to his feet again. He ran a hand through his hair and walked back to Leia, who was trying awkwardly to bandage her arm.  
"Lemme do it," he said, quietly taking the makeshift dressing from her. He lowered himself to the ground again, tying the bandage as gently as he could.

"Thanks for the rescue back there," he smiled, indicating her wounded arm. She'd taken a blaster shot just under her shoulder and then still been able to take out the stormtrooper who cornered them outside the bunker.

She returned the smile and ran her fingers lightly over the side of his face. "Always."

He looked at her again, starting to draw in a breath, but before he could compose his thoughts, a flash of light drew his attention, and he turned, eyes widening as the bright blue sky of Endor erupted with a massive burst of white light.

"Lando…" Han whispered, mostly to himself. Then another thought struck and he quickly turned back to Leia. "I'm sure the boys weren't on that thing."

She was still staring up at the sky, a far away expression on her face, and after a moment's pause, she slowly shook her head. "They weren't. I can feel it."

He watched her, feeling a tightening in his chest as he truly began to consider what she was saying and what it meant for them. He loved Leia—and even her insane family, with its habit of absorbing every stray it came across and growing by leaps and bounds as they all traversed the galaxy. He had felt like one of them for some time, and after what they all pulled to get him out of Jabba's palace, he could admit it. The Jedi thing, though—the Force tricks and the way she and her brothers, especially Luke, could _feel_ each other across the vast distances that often separated them—still made him uneasy. He guessed it always would.

He wasn't the only one, after all. Mom had never had the Jedi training, and Isaly didn't have the Force talents at all. They made it work. Once, Isaly had told him that he would get used to it; he didn't know if that was true or not. Probably, if he was going to get used it, he would already have been able to, but after all this time, he was ready to say that it didn't matter anyway.

Leia frowned at him, sensing that something was up. "What's wrong?"

"Listen," Han began, swallowing nervously. "I know your family ain't here eavesdropping or anything, but…well, I'm already on one knee, and you gotta admit this is a pretty damn inconvenient location. Artoo and Nobby're over there anyway. One of 'em's gotta be recording by now."

"What?" she squinted at him.

He ducked his head. "Uh…I ain't got a ring or anything right now, either."

"What are you talking about?" Leia stared at him.

He let out an exasperated sigh and looked away. "This ain't comin' out right."

Suddenly, he felt her tense. She gasped softly and reached out to touch his face again, guiding his eyes back to hers. "Han…?"

"I…um…" he started again, clearing his throat. "I—wanna get married."

In answer, she leaned forward and kissed him. When their lips parted again, he stared at her in amazement. The smile was the only answer he really needed, but Leia nodded and kissed him again.

"Yes," she said as they finally drew apart again.

* * *

  
Even as he felt the shuttle touch down on the forest moon, Anakin Skywalker knew that he was dying. For the first time he could remember, he felt no fear. The pain was lessening too, though he no longer had the concentration he needed to use the blocking techniques that Ani had shown him on the _Executor_. Soon, he knew that he would be beyond pain and cold forever, and the surcease would be welcome. Palpatine had been right about one thing. There was no kind of life left for him here. The only weight he felt now was the weight of guilt—for the galaxy, for the friends and comrades that he had betrayed, and chiefly for the suffering that he had wrought in the life of the young man beside him, whom had indeed sworn to care for as his own son.

"I got a message to the Fleet," Luke's voice sounded watery and far away, as if it was coming to him from somewhere above a bacta tank in which he was now suspended. Anakin turned toward the sound and saw the younger brother ducking into the shuttle's main cabin from the cockpit. "Dad's coming down."

"…hates…flying…" Anakin protested weakly.

"It doesn't matter, Uncle," Ani said.

There was another distant clatter. At first, he couldn't determine what it was, but as the sound grew nearer he realized that it was footsteps. Someone else had run up the shuttle's boarding ramp and was now entering the cabin. Three someones, he corrected himself. Two of them were human; the third was a squat little droid with a very familiar dome-shaped head.

"Luke, Ani, are you—oh, no…" Leia's voice.

Artoo let out a long, low whistle.

The third figure hung back behind them. It had to be Solo, but Anakin's mask was malfunctioning, and his vision kept flickering too much for him to tell for sure. His connection to the Force felt muzzy, and it grew weaker as he lost the ability to focus. That would soon change, though…

"Is Isaly with you?" Ani's tone was urgent.

"She went back to the village," Leia explained. "Mara Jade was hurt. The kids are with her; I'll contact Shmi."

"Tell them to hurry," Ani replied. Then Anakin felt his nephew's fingers close around his, and Ani let out an involuntary cry of pain. "Uncle, listen to me. Dad's _coming_. Just hold on to my hand. Don't let go, understand?"

Slowly, Anakin nodded. He knew that he owed Obi Wan far more than that, but for the moment, it was all that he could give. The mention of the children sparked another thought in his mind, and he struggled to bring it to clarity.

"Obi-Wan…and Anakin…" he said, fighting to haul himself upright.

"What?" Ani asked, startled.

"Lightsabers," explained Anakin.

"The…Qui-Gon's you mean? Your old one?" Ani reached out with his free hand to steady him by grabbing his shoulder. The gesture made him stiffen with the pain of his damaged hands, and Luke quickly moved to help.

"Where, Uncle?" he asked, dropping to the floor on Anakin's other side.

"Move the cape," directed Anakin wearily.

He managed to hold himself up until Luke had found the weapons, then he sank wearily back down again. He felt himself phasing in and out of physical awareness. His consciousness drifted into union with the Force, and the galaxy expanded while his body's reality shrank, becoming only a tiny sliver of a much larger existence. Ani's hand on his anchored him to it, and snatches of conversation drew him back from time to time, but he knew that once he surrendered his grip on those frail tethers, the suit and the body it imprisoned would have no power to hold him.

"…I'm sorry, Ani…"

"…Mommy, you have to _try_…"

"…gotten here sooner, maybe…"

"…doesn't want…"

"…until Mom and Dad…"

"Anakin."

With the last of his will, he dragged himself back and turned his head to focus on the face of his former teacher. He forced his arm to move, felt it rise, and finally, felt Obi Wan clasp his hand. "Forgive me."

Obi Wan's grip tightened, and he felt another hand cover theirs. Padme's face wavered into view, and he thought he saw her smile. "We forgive you, Ani. Go on, your mother's waiting."

He uttered a relieved sigh, but he wasn't ready to surrender yet. There was one final thing he needed, but he knew that Ani's hands were too damaged to be able to him with it. Quietly, he turned to the younger brother, who now stood solemnly at their father's right.

"Luke…help me take…this mask off…"

Luke hesitated for a moment, then moved closer and leaned in to help him remove the pressurized mask. Without it's pressurization, there was a painful rush of air from the mechanism that now passed for his lungs. It was designed to allow him to survive for a brief period of time if the suit malfunctioned, but the whole system had taken electrical damage. Normally, the suffocating weight on his chest would have been terrifying, but he already knew that he had taken his last breath.

The grief he read in Luke's expression surprised him, and although Ani's tears did not, he felt a resurgence of pain at the knowledge that he had caused them. The young man smiled, though, saying nothing, because everything that needed to be said between them had already passed. Anakin squeezed his fingers again, and finally turned back to Obi Wan. As he moved his head, he glimpsed other faces. Some he recognized—Shmi and her young friend from Ecarua; Isaly; Master Yoda, whose presence, and the fact that he hadn't noticed it before gave him a start; Bail Organa. Others he didn't, though the sorrowful faces of the young blonde boys on either side of Padme told him all he needed to know about who they were. Then his vision began to fade and he strained to focus on his friend and mentor again.

"Master," he whispered. "I…don't hate you."

"I know, Anakin," Obi Wan replied tearfully. "I love you."


	240. Until Our Next Hello

The whole family helped build Anakin's funeral pyre. Obi Wan knew that Ani would have liked to do it himself, but he found that idea neither healthy nor particularly feasible since his son's hands and arms had been damaged by Palpatine's Force lightning. He thought it rather fitting that all of them should be involved, since the victory belonged to no one person. By tacit understanding, the assembled group allowed Ani to light it, even though he had to have Luke's help to get his fingers to open and close around the torch by then.

Watching them together gave Obi Wan a bittersweet satisfaction, even as the rising flames filled him both with relief and a sense of immeasurable loss. He watched the fire grow, consuming the prison in which his friend and brother had spent the last half of his life, and he was immensely glad to see the hateful armor disappear. Even after Anakin's eyes closed for the last time, he had been struck with the odd sense that his old apprentice wouldn't—couldn't—be truly free again until the armor was destroyed.

Although he knew it was irrational, he found that he couldn't leave until the fire burnt itself out. Eventually, the rest of the group filtered away, respectfully giving him and Padme privacy to say their final farewell. Most of them went to the victory celebration in the Ewok village. Yoda wanted to take Mara Jade back up to the Fleet, where he would be better able to watch over her. Luke volunteered to fly them up, and surprisingly, he managed to convince Ani to come with him and have his hands looked at. Once they left, Obi Wan and Padme stood leaning on one another in silence until the bright orange glow of the fire faded, dwindling to a faint but insistent red smolder of still-active embers.

"How are you doing?" Padme asked him softly.

He drew in a breath, considering his reply, and then shook his head in mystification. "I don't know. I think I should feel worse than I do. I miss him. I wish…a lot of things. Too many. But, I'm glad. He would've been miserable. And I think it would have broken Ani's heart. You don't spend almost thirty years immersed in the Dark Side and come out again unscathed. He never would have fully been our Anakin again. I…know it would have broken mine."

"I think you're right," she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "But you know something else?"

"Mm?" he glanced down at her, arching an eyebrow in a silent emphasis to his question.

"I have a feeling we'll see Anakin again."

"Oh, my love…" Obi Wan chuckled softly. "I don't doubt it. I don't doubt it at all."

* * *

After the initial joyous welcomes they received, Ani felt a bit out of place at the victory celebration. As Padme's son, he knew how to conduct himself and play a part at social gatherings, but as soon as it seemed socially appropriate, he withdrew, watching from the edge of the trees as his friends and family savored their moment of triumph. Luke left him alone for a while, but eventually, he drifted over and leaned against the tree beside him.

"You all right?" he asked.

"No, but I will be," Ani smiled.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Which part?" Ani asked ironically.

Luke shrugged. "I dunno. Any part?"

Ani drew in a breath and frowned. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."

"Well, I was there. That's the point of a team," Luke replied.

"I know…I just…it scares me."

"Do you think I was lying when I told Uncle Anakin that we get our greatest strength from each other, Ani?" asked Luke, giving him a look that was suddenly far more wizened than the elder brother thought he had the right to be.

He shook his head. "I know you weren't."

"We're not perfect. The minute we start thinking we are, we're dangerously close to the Dark Side. You don't have to stand alone as long as you're still willing to stand. That's what Uncle never understood," Luke said gently.

Ani gave him an ironic smile. "How'd you get so smart?"

"Good teachers," Luke shrugged. Then he turned and looked over his shoulder as Leia came up behind him. She slipped her arms around him, giving him an affectionate squeeze.

"Mom and Dad are coming," she told them.

Luke turned and started off with her, then paused and looked back at Ani. Leia hesitated, turning around again when they didn't follow.

"You coming, Ani?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be along in a minute," he promised.

"Well, don't stand here by yourself all night," Leia told him with a faint edge of sterness.

"Oh, I'm not alone," Ani replied, glancing toward the trees. The twins followed his gaze and all three Kenobi children smiled as the spirits of Qui-Gon Jinn, Mace Windu, and Anakin Skywalker shimmered into sight. After a moment or two, Mace and Qui-Gon stepped back, slowly fading out again. The twins took the hint and drifted back to the party with a joint wave, leaving Ani alone with his namesake.

"So," he began slowly. "What happens now?"

"You can go home if you want," Anakin said. "Back to your farm. The war isn't over, but not everyone has to stay on the front lines."

Ani nodded. "I'm going to take Jareth to see his mother. Then we'll go back. Me and Isaly and the boys, anyway. Shmi wants to stay with Han and Leia for a while. But I meant…what happens now…to you?"

"The Force is returning to a place of balance," Anakin replied. "Master Windu and Qui-Gon won't be around as much. Their tasks are complete. I…have a great deal of atonement to make."

"So I'll see you again?" Ani asked.

"Oh, yes, nephew. You're not rid of me yet," Anakin promised.

"Good," quipped Ani. "Because it would have been really shoddy of you to just pop in once or twice and then never be heard from again, you know."

"Have you ever known me to do anything the easy way, Ani?" Anakin asked.

"You have a point, Uncle," Ani laughed.

Anakin chuckled as well. Then, his expression shifted, becoming serious. "Thank you, Anakin. You are…without question, the son of Padme and Obi Wan Kenobi."

"You would have done no less for them, Uncle. Or for their son. You owe me nothing," Ani inclined his head.

"I love you," Anakin said softly.

"Always."

~ Finis

* * *

  
End note:

Here it is, after more than two years. The final chapter of One Path. I would like to thank everyone who has stuck with the story for so long, especially to those readers who have loyally stuck it out through my writer's block and personal difficulties over the years. To those of you who have taken the time to leave thoughtful feedback, both positive and negative, I can't express how much your comments have meant, especially at those times when I wondered why I was continuing with this. Also, of course, my collaborative partner and fellow Evil Genius, Aruna7.

I would like to address recent comments about Anakin/Vader's death in One Path. I realize that many people may have hoped that he would survive, but in our opinion, the merciful choice was to end his suffering and let him become one with the Force. We made a point of discussing how unhappy he was with life in the suit and how much would have to be done in order for him to have anything approaching an existence independent of it. Also, after such a long time immersed in the teachings and philosophy of the Sith, it would have been unrealistic to expect that he would have been able, emotionally, to make a successful transition into life outside the Emperor's grasp. He was tired, and frankly, except for the Kenobis, no one in the galaxy would have trusted or welcomed him. Our goal from the outset was to keep this story true to the intent and spirit of Star Wars. I won't apologize for maintaining the story's integrity, and I hope that whether the ending makes you happy or not, you will have found this story to be a journey worth taking.

I know that there are some questions left unanswered here, most notably the fate of our Mara Jade. I had considered writing an epilogue of sorts to close things up, but ultimately, I feel that things are better left the way they are. Aruna and I do plan for there to be a sequel series to One Path entitled _The Kenobi Way_, and I want there to be some surprises in store for those of you who decide to brave the waters of this 'verse when it moves beyond the film saga.

For the present, I have to say that, while I love the GFFA and the universe of One Path, I have decided to take a hiatus to focus on my original work. I will be compiling and moving all of the author's notes and responses to specific reader feedback over the next few weeks, as well as a list of the existing "missing scenes", One Path music videos, and other things of interest. Currently I plan to begin work on _The Kenobi Way_ in January of 2010. I have no idea when the series will end up being posted, and while I know that some may be disapointed, I really feel that this is the best thing for me and for the story. I want to be able to give it the care and attention that it--and you as the audience--deserve.

Until then, may the Force be with you.

-Lionchilde


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